Lance.
<>
Lance’s tearful television interviews brought so many phone calls, he had pages of tips, sightings, and psychic visions to go over at the end of each day. He tossed the visions. He never believed in that crap and there were too many other leads to follow up on without wasting his time on somebody’s stupid dreams.
After four reports from people claiming they’d seen Cara at the mall in Spokane, he decided to go there himself. The PI was checking out another lead in Portland. Lance had to find Cara soon or he’d be broke again.
And he hated being broke.
<>
The next day, Cara was startled by the sound of a ringing phone. It was Nick’s Aunt Sophia calling to check on him. Cara had no one who cared enough to check on her, no one to grieve for her if she’d died in that cabin. No one. Everyone in her family was gone except her husband, and he and his ‘honey’ would probably dance on her grave.
Two days later the power came on. Cara was delighted. Power meant hot, running water. “I’m taking a hot shower,” she announced to Nick.
“The hell you are. You can’t get your leg wet until after the stitches come out.”
“Then you take them out.”
“Wuss! If you want them out, take them out yourself.”
“Please, Nick. I haven’t had a shower in so long, I can’t stand myself. We’re out of clean clothes, too.”
“Okay, I’ll start the laundry when you finish your shower, then it’s my turn.”
She grinned and wrinkled her nose. “You are getting kind of ripe.”
His eyes twinkled. “Save a girl’s life and she insults you.” He wrapped her leg in plastic wrap and topped it off with tape. “Don’t stay in there too long or the tape will come loose.”
“Will you wash my back?”
His eyebrows lifted and a smile split his face. “Will you wash mine?”
Heat crept up Cara’s neck and into her face. “Never mind.”
“We could shower together. Conserve hot water.”
Cara rolled her eyes and pushed him out of the bathroom. Funny how she felt more comfortable with Nick than she ever had with Lance. The more time she spent away from her husband, the more she realized that what she’d felt for him had been physical attraction, not love. He was the first man who’d ever told her she was pretty, the first man who said he loved her. The only man she’d ever had sex with.
As she stepped under the hot water, she wondered what it would be like to make love with Nick, to have those big, rough hands on her body and his lips on hers. The ache she felt at the bottom of her belly had nothing to do with her earthquake injuries. She wanted more than friendship with this guy, but she was still married. Still tied to a man she despised.
The hot water felt soothing, especially on her sore shoulder. Her right arm moved without hurting now, except when she tried to reach up. She felt better every day. The wound in her leg had healed nicely according to Nick, but just thinking about someone punching a needle into her flesh to sew it together made her sick to her stomach.
Nick pounded on the bathroom door. “Hey, save some of that hot water for me.”
After a final rinse, Cara turned off the water. She dried off the best she could, wrapped the wet towel around herself, and called Nick to take the plastic wrap off her leg.
“Take it off yourself.”
“I can’t look at it.”
He said something under his breath and pulled the tape off. “Looks okay.”
“How many stitches?”
He looked up with a cocky little smile. “Count ’em yourself.”
She shot him a look meant to wither, but all it did was make him laugh.
The only thing she could find to put on was one of Nick’s long-sleeved work shirts. She rolled the sleeves above her hands. The long tails covered her behind, but just barely. She covered her legs with a blanket. Not even a clean pair of socks in his dresser drawers.
She needed clothes, but how? If she called someone to send clothes from California, Lance could
<>
Lance’s tearful television interviews brought so many phone calls, he had pages of tips, sightings, and psychic visions to go over at the end of each day. He tossed the visions. He never believed in that crap and there were too many other leads to follow up on without wasting his time on somebody’s stupid dreams.
After four reports from people claiming they’d seen Cara at the mall in Spokane, he decided to go there himself. The PI was checking out another lead in Portland. Lance had to find Cara soon or he’d be broke again.
And he hated being broke.
<>
The next day, Cara was startled by the sound of a ringing phone. It was Nick’s Aunt Sophia calling to check on him. Cara had no one who cared enough to check on her, no one to grieve for her if she’d died in that cabin. No one. Everyone in her family was gone except her husband, and he and his ‘honey’ would probably dance on her grave.
Two days later the power came on. Cara was delighted. Power meant hot, running water. “I’m taking a hot shower,” she announced to Nick.
“The hell you are. You can’t get your leg wet until after the stitches come out.”
“Then you take them out.”
“Wuss! If you want them out, take them out yourself.”
“Please, Nick. I haven’t had a shower in so long, I can’t stand myself. We’re out of clean clothes, too.”
“Okay, I’ll start the laundry when you finish your shower, then it’s my turn.”
She grinned and wrinkled her nose. “You are getting kind of ripe.”
His eyes twinkled. “Save a girl’s life and she insults you.” He wrapped her leg in plastic wrap and topped it off with tape. “Don’t stay in there too long or the tape will come loose.”
“Will you wash my back?”
His eyebrows lifted and a smile split his face. “Will you wash mine?”
Heat crept up Cara’s neck and into her face. “Never mind.”
“We could shower together. Conserve hot water.”
Cara rolled her eyes and pushed him out of the bathroom. Funny how she felt more comfortable with Nick than she ever had with Lance. The more time she spent away from her husband, the more she realized that what she’d felt for him had been physical attraction, not love. He was the first man who’d ever told her she was pretty, the first man who said he loved her. The only man she’d ever had sex with.
As she stepped under the hot water, she wondered what it would be like to make love with Nick, to have those big, rough hands on her body and his lips on hers. The ache she felt at the bottom of her belly had nothing to do with her earthquake injuries. She wanted more than friendship with this guy, but she was still married. Still tied to a man she despised.
The hot water felt soothing, especially on her sore shoulder. Her right arm moved without hurting now, except when she tried to reach up. She felt better every day. The wound in her leg had healed nicely according to Nick, but just thinking about someone punching a needle into her flesh to sew it together made her sick to her stomach.
Nick pounded on the bathroom door. “Hey, save some of that hot water for me.”
After a final rinse, Cara turned off the water. She dried off the best she could, wrapped the wet towel around herself, and called Nick to take the plastic wrap off her leg.
“Take it off yourself.”
“I can’t look at it.”
He said something under his breath and pulled the tape off. “Looks okay.”
“How many stitches?”
He looked up with a cocky little smile. “Count ’em yourself.”
She shot him a look meant to wither, but all it did was make him laugh.
The only thing she could find to put on was one of Nick’s long-sleeved work shirts. She rolled the sleeves above her hands. The long tails covered her behind, but just barely. She covered her legs with a blanket. Not even a clean pair of socks in his dresser drawers.
She needed clothes, but how? If she called someone to send clothes from California, Lance could
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