They fell into an easy camaraderie. Somehow, she understood he held secrets so deep and dark they may never come to light. She didn't care. She sensed on a gut-level instinct he had more honor than most men his age.
After dinner, they'd found themselves alone, talking outside. She'd asked a bunch of questions, wanting to get to know him, but he only gave one-word answers. Tension tightened his frame, and she realized he grew more and more distant. Fragments of the conversation drifted past her memory.
"DON'T YOU LIKE TO talk about yourself?" she asked curiously. This man, who her twin sister pronounced extremely fuckable, seemed so much more than his shaved head, tats, and leather wristbands. Secrets danced in his eyes. She also sensed they were painful. Another reason he didn't like to talk?
"No," he answered. "I don't talk about the past. Just today."
His answer fascinated her. A deep connection flowed between them, as if they'd met in another life and time and were just now picking up where they left off. "So I won't ask you any other questions. We'll just be friends."
The need and suspicion mingled in those gorgeous blue eyes. "Friends? I bet one day you'll ask me stuff. Get mad at me for not sharing. Girls do that."
She smiled. She wasn't like most girls. "Pinky promise, then. We won't discuss either of our pasts unless you want to. No questions." She liked the idea of having a clean slate with this man. Someone who didn't judge her on previous actions or performance, but accepted her for the woman she was at the moment.
He crinkled his brow. "Pinky promise?"
She sighed with impatience. "You know a better way? A swear is a swear."
He reached his hand out tentatively. Their pinkies twisted and locked. Pure energy rushed between them, but it was like a nice, heady buzz that made her feel good in her tummy. "Pinky swear," he said gruffly.
"Pinky swear," she repeated.
And then the best part of all happened. For the first time since they'd met, he smiled at her. Her heart lifted and filled up, and Gen knew she'd be happy around that smile all the time. Finally, she had a guy to tell her secrets to and with whom she could be safe, laugh, and just enjoy the moment.
YEARS LATER, IZZY STILL drove her crazy questioning why she wouldn't fuck him. Even Kate, Kennedy, and Arilyn--her closest girlfriends--wondered aloud why they'd never hooked up. Gen noticed the general attraction, but she was able to glimpse the big picture. Wolfe couldn't hold on to a relationship. He loved sex and teased her with details of his greatest escapades while she groaned and covered her face, screaming "TMI!" But it was just about the physical. When it came to emotional commitment, he checked out, and Gen realized what they had was so much deeper and more meaningful than a quickie affair.
She studied him in his navy blue board shorts and wondered why their relationship was so easy, even from the start. Maybe because she let him be who he wanted and lifted the threat of painstaking questions. They were able to accept each other on their own terms. Maybe because she allowed him to show her who he was now without expectations of who he had been. And she bet it had been very, very bad.
He poised on the end of the deck in full masculine glory and cocked a brow. Her tummy tumbled, then steadied. She was used to it and never analyzed the sensation. He was an attractive male and she'd have to be dead not to have a physical reaction. The occasional attraction was easily dealt with when she thought of losing their friendship. "Coming in?"
"No."
"Thought you grew up in the country. Come on, Gen. I hate when you act like a girl."
She stuck out her tongue and snagged another beer. Then she plopped her butt onto a fat rock and stretched her legs out. "I am a girl, you idiot. There are bugs and fish and things in there. No way."
"You disappoint me."
He got ready to dive and her inner devil ignited to life after months of being on vacation. "Better watch the spider crawling up your leg."
"What!" He hopped from foot to foot in a clumsy dance, reaching down and swiping his legs in a parody of comedy. Then he toppled into the water.
She laughed so hard she thought she'd crack a rib, especially when he surfaced and spit water out of his mouth. "Oh, that was priceless," she gasped out. His fear of spiders always charmed her. He was big and bad and avoided nothing, except the eight-legged crawly creatures. Reminded her of Indiana Jones and snakes. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."
His gaze narrowed. "You know payback is a bitch, right?"
Gen gulped for air. "I left my groom at the altar. Surely that will be enough for the day?"
He grunted. "Maybe. Maybe not." He dove under in one smooth move and did a few laps. She sat back and took pleasure in the view without guilt. Lean muscles cut through the water with grace and speed. A bee circled lazily, hummed, then dove for a bright purple flower. The vivid blue sky reminded her of Wolfe's eyes. "How's the hospital?"
"Good." She took another swig and thought of David. Seemed all detours led to her fiance. Ex-fiance. Since he ran the surgical unit and she was under his direction, her career may also be in jeopardy. "Busy."
"You haven't liked your job in a long time, have you?"
She swiveled her head back. A flare of temper hit. "It's more than a job. It's my entire life. College, med school, internship. Days, nights, weekends. I never faltered, never questioned, never lost focus. I stopped asking myself if I liked it a long time ago. I just live it."
He swam back and forth as if he didn't have a care in the world. And he didn't. She was the one who'd blown her life up and took off. "Why?" he asked.
She blinked. "Why? What type of question is that? Because if you want to be a recognized surgeon, you have to work yourself so hard there's only pieces of you left. Then you get to slowly put them back together."
He floated in seemingly utter content. "Just doesn't make sense to me. If I didn't like working at Purity, I'd leave. Do something else. Ever think you've been so obsessed with the prize you never stopped to think if you'd like doing it?"
She choked on her beer and on the bitter taste of outrage. How dare he question her motives. She'd been working to succeed in the medical field since she'd first practiced first aid on her dolls. When her brother, Lance, declared his intention to study medicine, she'd been pissed off he stole her career. Ambition, work, and achievement of goals made sense. Working to save a human life and strive for greatness made her worthy. Yet her best friend treated it like a side job, just casually picked from a litter of careers as if it meant nothing.
"My prize is saving a life. Yours is a nice experience sleeping away from home."
She hated her bitchiness, but he never lost the smoothness
of his strokes. "Ouch. We have a spa and a chapel. Surely that makes up for the shallowness."
"Why are you trying to piss me off? This is my life's work. You just don't quit something because it's too hard or you're not enjoying it anymore."
"Have you ever given up on something you didn't like?"
The question threw her off. She guzzled half her beer, took another, and popped off the cap. "Yeah, gymnastics. I had no coordination. Mom had dreams of an Olympic run. I fell off the balance beam once and cried for an hour. So I quit."
"How many lessons did you suffer through?"
Gen frowned. "Well, I finished up the term, of course. Then I never signed back up."
"Ever stop a book halfway if you don't like it?"
She shuddered with horror. "Are you kidding? If I start it, I finish it. I don't know how people sleep not knowing the ending."
"What if you order something at a restaurant and hate it? Do you send it back?"
"If it's cooked properly and I just dislike the flavor? Of course not. I clean the plate; it's my fault for choosing it."
"Hmm, interesting."
She glared at his back as he moved from a float to a steady backstroke. "What's interesting? And what's with the asinine questions?"
"You take your choices seriously."
Gen tilted her chin up. "Of course. Choices mean consequences. Not following through is a type of failure."
"Or maybe it's just a good old-fashioned mistake you need to fix. Not every path in the road needs to be followed. Sometimes it's smarter to quit and go home."
His words burned through her, rising up and swallowing her whole until she shook with pent-up frustration and rage. "That means failure."
"No. Just a wrong turn."
His gentle voice scraped at her like spits of gravel. She practically shook with fury. When her father abandoned them, she'd made the decision to do everything right and never make trouble. She had--and her father came back. Her once-splintered family healed. Being good paid. Following the rules gave rewards. Wolfe didn't know what he was talking about. She jumped up from the rock, put her beer down, and walked to the edge of the dock. Her finger jabbed in the air. "Who are you to dump all this psychobabble on me? You're just as driven in work as I am. You detest failure, laziness, and mediocrity."
His laugh splintered the wooded silence. The sun began to sink slowly over the hill. Shadows danced from the swaying trees. "Yeah, I do. You look mad."