at him for letting her go so easily. Mad at herself for being stupid enough to believe he would ever hurt her. A mistake that ruined everything, and even though it wasn’t his fault, he was the one who came away tarnished. No, he hadn’t cheated, people whispered, but one day he probably would. A man not to be trusted, a party boy.
By the time she got the real story, Tobin was gone. Far gone — on a surf trip to Australia where the rumormongers had him shacked up with a different surfer girl every night. A man that good-looking wouldn’t be lonely for long. Not on a ski slope, not on a beach, not on the other side of the world.
Every muscle in her body wanted to follow him and haul him home, but she’d stopped just short of booking a flight.
Where’s your pride, girl?
Her sister’s words had been a slap in the face.
Damn pride. That and an awful, gnawing doubt. Even if he hadn’t cheated on her this time, one day, he just might. Life was a game to Tobin; why wouldn’t he want to play around?
You can’t trust a man like him,
her mother said.
Why can’t you find someone like his brother?
her dad had thrown in.
Her eyes stung and salty and she lay stiff as a log, trying to hold it all in.
She didn’t want his brother. She didn’t want any of the dull, straitlaced men she’d tried dating over the years. She wanted him.
Still wanted him, deep down in her heart.
“Maybe it was a good thing.” Tobin shrugged, settling onto his back again. He tried to make it sound light, but she could hear the defeat in his words. “If you were ready to believe I’d be interested in anyone else, then maybe we weren’t ready to get married.”
God, the truth hurt.
“Your dad was right,” he added, and when she looked, she saw that the face that wasn’t capable of anything but joy was suddenly lined with sorrow.
Her dad called him a no-good bum and a lot of other things right before he started throwing chairs to chase Tobin away.
Tobin, who’d never let her down. Who never would have.
And here was the proof. Of all the people in the world to come to her rescue, it was Tobin here in the jungle, promising to find a way out.
He rolled away, and all she could see was the hard wall of his back. When he spoke, it was in a choked whisper.
“Good night, Cara.”
Chapter Eleven
Cara didn’t sleep a wink. The previous nights, the unfamiliar jungle noise had kept her up, but now it was worse, as if each of the rain-forest dwellers had taken on one of her emotions. The haunting hoots of an owl echoed her regrets. The resonating song of the cricket amplified her shame. And the sweet calls of songbirds embodied everything she could have had, but lost.
Tobin was awfully quiet on his side of the bed, but leave it to the big lug, he started the next morning fresh and chipper and sunny as ever. He stretched and smiled and ducked under the mosquito net to splash water on his face.
“Morning,” he called, as if he knew it was going to be the world’s greatest day. The man always woke up like that. “Gotta pee!”
Always ready with a smile and a funny line. That was Tobin.
He pulled on his shorts and headed out the door, where he was immediately intercepted by a host of giggling children.
“Morning!” he said.
“Buenos días,
to you, and you, and you.”
His fan club erupted into happy sounds. Typical Tobin, spreading the gospel of simple joy and happiness wherever he went.
Maybe she could learn a little from him.
Cara stretched out under the sheet, contemplating the thatched roof. Then she frowned. What was that, pressing on her leg?
She lifted her head to check…and nearly passed out.
Two beady eyes watched her closely, and a forked tongue darted out.
Every muscle in her body twitched, fighting the instinct to flee.
The head was flat and evil, the eyes black. Glittering scales on a body as thick as her arm. A diamond pattern rippled and blurred as she focused on the eyes.
Oh
By the time she got the real story, Tobin was gone. Far gone — on a surf trip to Australia where the rumormongers had him shacked up with a different surfer girl every night. A man that good-looking wouldn’t be lonely for long. Not on a ski slope, not on a beach, not on the other side of the world.
Every muscle in her body wanted to follow him and haul him home, but she’d stopped just short of booking a flight.
Where’s your pride, girl?
Her sister’s words had been a slap in the face.
Damn pride. That and an awful, gnawing doubt. Even if he hadn’t cheated on her this time, one day, he just might. Life was a game to Tobin; why wouldn’t he want to play around?
You can’t trust a man like him,
her mother said.
Why can’t you find someone like his brother?
her dad had thrown in.
Her eyes stung and salty and she lay stiff as a log, trying to hold it all in.
She didn’t want his brother. She didn’t want any of the dull, straitlaced men she’d tried dating over the years. She wanted him.
Still wanted him, deep down in her heart.
“Maybe it was a good thing.” Tobin shrugged, settling onto his back again. He tried to make it sound light, but she could hear the defeat in his words. “If you were ready to believe I’d be interested in anyone else, then maybe we weren’t ready to get married.”
God, the truth hurt.
“Your dad was right,” he added, and when she looked, she saw that the face that wasn’t capable of anything but joy was suddenly lined with sorrow.
Her dad called him a no-good bum and a lot of other things right before he started throwing chairs to chase Tobin away.
Tobin, who’d never let her down. Who never would have.
And here was the proof. Of all the people in the world to come to her rescue, it was Tobin here in the jungle, promising to find a way out.
He rolled away, and all she could see was the hard wall of his back. When he spoke, it was in a choked whisper.
“Good night, Cara.”
Chapter Eleven
Cara didn’t sleep a wink. The previous nights, the unfamiliar jungle noise had kept her up, but now it was worse, as if each of the rain-forest dwellers had taken on one of her emotions. The haunting hoots of an owl echoed her regrets. The resonating song of the cricket amplified her shame. And the sweet calls of songbirds embodied everything she could have had, but lost.
Tobin was awfully quiet on his side of the bed, but leave it to the big lug, he started the next morning fresh and chipper and sunny as ever. He stretched and smiled and ducked under the mosquito net to splash water on his face.
“Morning,” he called, as if he knew it was going to be the world’s greatest day. The man always woke up like that. “Gotta pee!”
Always ready with a smile and a funny line. That was Tobin.
He pulled on his shorts and headed out the door, where he was immediately intercepted by a host of giggling children.
“Morning!” he said.
“Buenos días,
to you, and you, and you.”
His fan club erupted into happy sounds. Typical Tobin, spreading the gospel of simple joy and happiness wherever he went.
Maybe she could learn a little from him.
Cara stretched out under the sheet, contemplating the thatched roof. Then she frowned. What was that, pressing on her leg?
She lifted her head to check…and nearly passed out.
Two beady eyes watched her closely, and a forked tongue darted out.
Every muscle in her body twitched, fighting the instinct to flee.
The head was flat and evil, the eyes black. Glittering scales on a body as thick as her arm. A diamond pattern rippled and blurred as she focused on the eyes.
Oh
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