I hold my hand out, palm up. “Hand it over.”
“ARE YOU TWO okay?” I ask, and pat Daisy’s shoulder. She and Cici’s brother, Dan, are seated at a table in the corner of the bar, ready to talk.
“We’ll be fine,” Dan says with a smile.
“Thanks again, Addie.” Daisy offers me a watery smile and I turn to walk to the bar for a glass of wine.
It’s five o’clock somewhere, for God sake. It’s that or go to the gym to work off some of this energy. But when I look up, there’s Jake leaning against the bar, watching me with worried eyes.
It seems he worries about me a lot.
“This is a nice surprise,” I say with a smile and immediately wrap my arms around him, hugging him tight. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d steal you away for lunch.” His voice is soft in my ear, immediately soothing me. “What do you think?”
“Well, I’m not really hungry, but I’d love to get out of here for a while. Somewhere with not a lot of people.” But I don’t want to have sex either. Geez, how do I say that?
“I know a place,” he replies with a soft smile. He drags his knuckles down my cheek. “I hate it when your eyes are sad.”
“Not here,” I say simply and shake my head. “Let’s not do this here.”
“Okay.” He takes my hand in his and links his fingers, squeezing mine in the way that I love, and gives me a reassuring smile. “Let’s go.”
As we pass through the dining room, I see Riley talking with Cami.
“She okay?” Riley asks.
“I think so,” I reply with a nod. “I’m going to take the afternoon off. I’ll be back for the dinner shift.”
“No problem.” Cami nods. “We have this covered.”
Jake leads me out to this car, gets me settled, then walks around to the driver’s side and gets in. We pull away from the restaurant.
“We have to stop by your place,” he says quietly as he maneuvers through traffic.
“Why?”
He glances down at my heels, my brown slacks, and my teal blouse. “Because you’ll need something more casual and better shoes.”
“Will my workout clothes work?”
“Perfect.”
I CHANGED INTO my gym clothes and shoes, but brought my work things with me because I am going back to work today. No playing hooky twice in the same month.
Or twice in the same year.
The drive out of Portland has been quiet and perfect. Exactly what I needed to clear my head.
How does he always know what I need?
He pulls off I-84 just about thirty minutes out of the city, then pulls into a parking lot.
“Have you seen Multnomah Falls before?”
“I’m from here,” I reply with a laugh. “But I haven’t been here since I was a kid.”
“I come here all the time. Usually in the off-season, in the middle of the week.”
“Less people,” I agree. “Well, it’s not the off-season, but it is the middle of the week, so it shouldn’t be bad.”
He nods and takes my hand as we start down the path to the falls. They are magnificent, cascading from hundreds of feet up. The cold mist from the falling water makes it cooler up here, but I barely notice as I take in the scenery.
“It’s so green,” I breathe.
“Smells good too,” he adds, and leads me up a path to get a better view. There aren’t many people up here today, which is nice. “Do you know the legend behind the falls?”
“There’s a legend?”
“Of course there is.” He chuckles and points out a tree limb to step over. “According to Native American lore, it was created to win the heart of a princess who wanted a private place to bathe.”
“Of course it’s about a princess,” I reply sarcastically. “And some dude who wanted to get her naked. But the story I heard as a kid said that the princess threw herself from the falls as a sacrificial act to end a plague killing her tribe and her lover.”
“It’s supposed to be a romantic story, not a tragic one,” he says, barely panting as we climb the few hundred feet up to the bridge that spans the falls, so we can get an even better view.
I’m panting like a whore in church.
Wait. Do whores in church pant?
“I run three times a week,” I complain. “How is it that I’m out of breath from this and you’re not?”
“Because I’m an awesome example of a man, and you’re lucky to have me here?”
“I don’t think that’s why.”
God, he’s funny.
“It could be why.”
“Or, you’re lucky when it comes to genetics and you’re just in really good shape.”
“It’s the swimming,” he says simply, shrugging one shoulder. “I’m not an Olympian or anything, but it’s good for the lungs.”
“Huh.” I grin as I remember our own private time in his pool. That was fun. We reach the bridge, and when we’re in the middle, staring up at the most beautiful waterfall I’ve ever seen, I lean against the railing. Jake moves up behind me, presses his chest to my back, and cages me in, his hands resting on the stone bridge on either side of me.
“It’s so beautiful,” I say.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers in my ear. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”