Last Summer: A Novel Page 16

  “When did your marriage sour?” she asks.

  “There wasn’t any one specific moment. You start to pick up on things. She didn’t look at me the same way anymore. She found fault with the most mundane things I did. She resented me when I went away and didn’t want to be around me when I was home.”

  Ella thinks of her marriage. She and Damien rarely argue. Their heated discussion on the phone was unusual for them, but then, their relationship has been tense since November. From what she can remember of the six months prior to her accident, they seemed fine. She can’t recall anything abnormal. She still felt an excited rush when he came home from work, and they could barely keep their hands off one another when they’d spent time away. But where do they stand now that she has this secret about her and Nathan? Is it even a secret? Ella would bet Damien knows or he wouldn’t have asked her to ditch the interview.

  “I’m sure she hated everything about me,” Nathan says, still talking. “When I tried to be the person she wanted, it wasn’t enough. I was the idiot who didn’t see what was really happening with her. She was afraid of being alone.”

  “Alone in the remote wilderness where you lived, or alone without you and your support?”

  “Both.”

  “What happened?”

  “I came home from shooting an episode to find she’d moved out with Carson.”

  Nathan looks so devastated. She can’t resist touching him and reaches a hand over to his back, offering comfort. She feels the heat of him through his shirt and it sends a ripple up her arm, warming inside her chest. She aches for his loss.

  “When was this?” she asks gently.

  “Two months before Carson died.”

  “How old was he?”

  “Nine.”

  Nathan swallows roughly. He hangs his head and grips the back of his neck.

  “Let’s get back to Steph,” Ella says quietly, giving him a chance to regroup. “Yesterday you mentioned she found being married to you—what’s the word you used? Taxing?”

  He nods.

  “But she was afraid of being left alone?”

  “She worried whenever I left the house. I’d go out to buy groceries and she worried. I’d take a walk and she worried. She worried most when I left to film a challenge on my show.”

  “She thought you’d injure or kill yourself.”

  He nods. “What I did was dangerous. I should have listened to her and stopped a long time ago.” Remorse is a leaden weight in his voice.

  “Can you tell me about Carson?” she asks cautiously, steering the conversation back to his son. He knows they have to go there, to his dark place. She hopes he’s ready. If not, she may have to backtrack again and try a different angle. Revisit the topic of his son later this evening.

  Nathan tosses back the remainder of his bourbon and leaves the glass on the table. Ella’s inclined to offer him a refill, but she doesn’t want to disturb the moment.

  “Carson was a great kid,” he says thickly. “He was adventurous like me. You would have liked him.” He rubs his face, stares for a moment into the fire between his fingers, then drops his hands. “Every so often, I’d take Carson on location with me. He’d hang with the set crew and trail Jeff everywhere. Jeff was one of my cameramen. Then, when we’d get home, Carson would recreate the challenges he saw on my episodes, on a much smaller scale.”

  “Can you give me an example?”

  Nathan thinks for a moment, then his face lights up. “He once filled a dirt pit with water and drove his motorized toy jeep through the mud. He’d seen me drive a Renegade through a river. He’d do stuff like that. Make a mess in the yard. Steph would have to hose him off before she allowed him back into the house.”

  Ella shares his smile. “Carson had an imagination.”

  His smile turns sad. “A big one.”

  “You were proud of him.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And Stephanie?”

  “She feared Carson would turn out like me, daring and reckless. She knew right away we were wired the same. Carson was always getting into or doing something she considered dangerous. I didn’t mind. I had a great relationship with my dad. I wanted Carson to have that with me.

  “Carson lived to have fun, but he lived hard. Steph was always cleaning scrapes, wrapping wrists, or icing a knee. She told me more than once he was going to get himself killed. I’d laugh it off and tell her to chill. He’s a boy. Let him have his fun. She didn’t like that answer. She left and she took my son. She thought that without her and Carson, I’d consider changing my ways so I wouldn’t be such a bad influence. It’s ironic, you know? The same woman who was hoping for the most publicity possible at our wedding so I could get another TV gig was now asking me to stop doing what I do.”

  “So did you? Change your ways, that is?”

  He shakes his head. “The opposite. After they left, I’d free-fall past the safety threshold. I’d wait until the last possible moment to pull my chute. I’d take my motorbike off-trail without any idea of the terrain in front of me. I did stupid, stupid shit. Luck’s the only reason I’m alive.”

  “I highly doubt that. I’m sure skill has a lot to do with it. But that makes me wonder.” She takes a breath before asking, “Were you trying to kill yourself?”

  “I was trying to feel alive. I felt dead after Steph took Carson away. Worse after he died.”

  “Is that why you canceled the series? Why not just take a hiatus?”

  The timer in the kitchen dings. Nathan blinks and Ella startles. She pushes out a breath and scoots away from Nathan. So absorbed in his story, she hadn’t noticed that she’d inched closer to him, close enough that their thighs were touching.

  Nathan glances in the direction of the kitchen.

  “We should take a break,” Ella suggests.

  “Yeah,” he says, standing.

  Ella is glad he agreed because she needs one, too.

  She collapses against the couch cushions, her gaze trailing Nathan as he moves to the kitchen, her mind on Simon. What would he have been like as a kid? Would he have been adventurous and rebellious? Or would he have been more studious and reserved?

  She wishes she’d had the chance to find out.

  CHAPTER 20

  They indulge in a meal of savory venison stew. Their discussion earlier affected Nathan more than Ella anticipated. Seventeen months after his son’s death and Nathan still has a difficult time talking about him. In one sitting, anyway. Ella fears that bringing up his son again tonight and delving into his reasons for canceling his series might entice Nathan to retreat. He’ll clam up, shut down, even run. Everything he’s been doing since Carson’s death. Dashing her hopes to get an invite to Alaska. She’s going to need it if she wants to get more time with him.

  So she compliments the meal and flatters his sense of fashion. She strokes his ego and teasingly comments on his arrogance.

  “You think I’m cocky?”

  “No.” She laughs the word. “You’re exceedingly self-confident.”

  “See? You said it. I’m cocky.”

  She laughs again, shaking her head. “No, there’s a difference. A falsely inflated ego—”

  “Falsely?” he blisters.

  She holds up a hand, trying not to laugh more. “Don’t interrupt me. A falsely inflated ego is not the same as genuine self-confidence. A solid belief in your abilities. Absolute trust in your skills. When you have that, which you do, yeah, you go out and test your limits. Here’s where you’re different from those idiots in the YouTube videos riding their dirt bikes off someone’s roof. I know you told me that you pushed your limits after Stephanie left, but on-screen, you seem to have a solid concept of your limits. You know when to pull back. You know when to cut off a challenge midstunt because it’ll get you killed. Remember that prime-time game-show host you had on your show? What was his name?” She rapidly snaps her fingers and points at Nathan. “Thad Fillmore.”

  Nathan’s lip curls. “That
guy’s an ass. He almost got us killed.”

  “Right. The challenge was to drive a jeep across a wide crocodile-infested riverbed. But it wasn’t the crocs that had you worried. It was the weather. You kept squinting at the sky, which couldn’t have been bluer had you painted it.”

  “You noticed that?” Nathan remarks, impressed.

  “I studied you while I watched. Anyway . . .” She waves a hand to get back on point. “Thad badgered you to get on with the challenge, but you kept stalling. I had to replay the segment a few times because you were muttering something about a change in the air. It smelled different to you. You told Thad you were concerned about a flash flood. Thad laughed and pointed at the sky. He called you a phony—”

  A short, sarcastic laugh pops from Nathan. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “Your editor was kind enough to bleep out his more colorful language. But Thad got in your face. I thought for sure you’d punch him. I was disappointed when you didn’t.” She grins.

  “I wanted to.”

  “But you didn’t. You kept your cool.”

  He smirks. “Feel free to add self-restraint to my growing list of attributes.”

  “Aren’t you funny?” She wags a finger at him, enjoying their conversation entirely too much. “I think there were eight minutes left in the show when the camera finally panned in the direction you’d been looking the entire episode. It wasn’t the sky overhead that bothered you. It was the thunderclouds upriver. Sure enough, the last five minutes of the episode showed the river rising rapidly and overflowing while you, Thad, and your crew observed from higher ground. The best part of the episode was the close-up of Thad’s sheet-white face. It said it all. He would have drowned had you let him cross.”

  “I would have lost several of my crew that day. We were in a wide ravine. A quick escape would have been near to impossible.”

  “Don’t you see, though? You might operate at full throttle, but from your audience’s perspective, you never lose sight of the risks.”

  Nathan rests his forearms on the table, leaning forward. “What’s your point, Skye?”

  “My point is, Stephanie didn’t see the cautious side of you.” Whereas Ella does. She’s seeing a lot. There’s more to him than the thrill-seeking junkie with good looks. He is considerate and attentive, loves hard, and punishes himself just as hard. And Ella finds him entirely too fascinating and enticing than is professionally acceptable. But then, Nathan’s giving her what Damien’s withheld of late. Conversation—fun banter and deep reflection.

  “Are you going to put that in the article?” Nathan asks.

  “I think it’s worth showing readers, I mean . . . Steph, that you value life more than the next thrill.”

  He slowly nods. He doesn’t say it, but his expression tells Ella he appreciates her perspective. He’s just as fascinated with their discussion. So she takes the opportunity to point their conversation north.

  “Tell me about Alaska.”

  “Alaska.” He pushes back in his chair and a smile spreads across his face. “Off the Grid 2.0.”

  “You’re returning to television?” Blow her over. She didn’t see that coming.

  “No, nothing like that,” he clarifies. “I’m launching an elite adventure company, where the tours will be tailored to the traveler’s destination preference, skill set, and budget. Private tours. No cameras allowed except those my clients bring. I doubt I’ll ever do television again.” He shrugs.

  “I’m meeting with the owner of a heli-skiing outfit to broker a deal. I want discounts for my clients in exchange for exclusivity—I only do trips of that nature through them. In return, they get my endorsement and additional promotion on my site.”

  “Sounds like a great venture,” she says. “You leave tomorrow morning?”

  “Day after. I pack and prep tomorrow. Drop the dogs off at the kennel.”

  She lifts her chin and studies him. “So the recluse is going skiing. You haven’t completely given up on pushing your limits. Heli-skiing isn’t for the faint of heart.”

  “I’ll never give up skiing. I’ve eased up, though.”

  “Eased up? You realize you’re talking about being helicoptered onto a mountain, right?”

  “Yeah, I know. But I’m controlled and cautious.” He lifts a brow, his expression teasing.

  A phone rings. Nathan leans on his hip and pulls out his cell phone from his back pocket. He glances at the screen, frowns, then lifts his eyes to her. “Excuse me. I have to take this.”

  He gets up from the table, answering the phone as he closes the sliding glass door behind him. “Nathan Donovan,” Ella hears him answer before the door closes, cutting him off. He faces inside the house and she can see his frown deepen to a scowl.

  Ella pushes out a breath. Who’s the caller? Hopefully it’s nothing serious. Getting an invite to Alaska will be near impossible if this is bad news.

  Rising from the table, she clears their empty bowls and rinses them in the sink. It doesn’t take long for Nathan to come back inside. He slams the slider behind him. Energy rolls off him. Cheeks reddened either from the cold or anger, he taps his phone against his thigh, agitated.

  “What is it?” she asks.

  “Come with me.”

  “To Alaska?”

  He nods.

  “Yes. I’d love to,” she blurts, not giving him a chance to think twice. She grins. That was easy.

  Nathan tosses his phone on the counter. He approaches her, brushing his thumb across his lower lip, his expression pensive. He stops close enough that Ella is forced to look up at him. She can smell the cool evening air on him. It quickens her heartbeat, deepens her breathing.

  “I wasn’t planning on inviting you,” he says in a gruff tone.

  “Too late. I’m tagging along. You can’t change your mind.”

  “I won’t. I want you to come. I’ve been enjoying our time together. You?”

  “Professionally speaking? It’s been an adventure.”

  He smiles easily, the right side of his mouth pulling up a little higher than the left. “And personally?”

  Warmth inches up her neck. She can imagine the blush he sees and wishes she could stop it.

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  He smiles, pleased. “Let’s call it a night then. We can wrap this up in Alaska.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” she says, shifting back into business mode. “I have to get up early in the morning and do some shopping. I didn’t pack for Alaska.”

  “I’ll join you. I have to pick up a few items at Alpine Mountaineering in town.” He touches her hair, moving aside a wisp that had fallen over her eye. “Check out of your hotel in the morning. Stay here tomorrow night.”

  “With you?” Her face heats.

  “Ah, no,” he says with a nervous laugh. “I have a guest room. We’re flying out of Reno first thing. It’ll save us time in the morning to drive straight there from here.”

  “What flight? I’ll book my ticket.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Nathan,” she says. “This is business. Luxe Avenue will foot my bill. I’ll give you my credit card number.”

  “No way, I want the miles.” He flashes an impish grin, but Ella gives him a look. “Fine. I’ll email the bill to your editor. The magazine can reimburse me. Agreed?”

  Ella relaxes a little. “Okay.”

  “Good. Then it’s settled. I’ll meet up with you in town tomorrow morning.”

  “Indeed.” Though she does wonder exactly what they settled.

  CHAPTER 21

  “Too thick.” Nathan takes the liberty of removing the pair of socks Ella added to her shopping basket.

  “News flash. I get cold easily.” She tosses the socks back in her basket.

  As planned, she checked out of her hotel after breakfast. Nathan texted the location of Alpine Mountaineering, adding that he’d meet her there.

  Nathan wears another one of his button-down flannels under a hu
nter-green jacket. A beat-up vintage Northstar-at-Tahoe cap is on his head. Oakley aviators hang from the collar of his heather-gray undershirt. His rugged handsomeness, his subtle aloe-soap-and-pine scent, and his nearness—most especially his nearness—keep drawing her eye. She can’t seem to get her fill of him.

  Nathan replaces the socks, dropping a different pair in the basket.

  “Aren’t those a little thin for where we’re going?” she observes.

  “They’ll be fine. Believe it or not, they’re designed to keep your feet warmer and allow them to breathe. You’ll sweat in those others, then that sweat will chill in the Alaskan climate and your toes will freeze.”

  “If you say so.” She skims the label of the pair he selected.

  “We had an in-depth discussion about socks last summer.”

  “Did we? Sounds fascinating.”

  “It was a surprisingly thorough conversation. We covered the need for ventilation zones and stretch recovery. Don’t you hate it when the elastic fails?”

  “We’re talking about socks, right?” She eyes him as she digs through the discount sock bin.

  “Absolutely. Socks bunched at the ankle is the worst sort of inconvenience midhike.”

  “The horror.” She gives him an exaggerated shiver. “What about seams? Were you one of those kids who wouldn’t put on his shoes until the sock seams laid exactly right over your toes?”

  “That was me to a T. Good news, though. These socks have no seams.” He dangles another pair in front of her face. She snatches them and drops them in her basket.

  “Tell me, Nathan,” she begins, moving on to the coatrack. Her quilted coat and the hiking jacket she doesn’t remember leaving at Nathan’s house won’t cut it in Alaska’s Pacific coast windchill. “What else did we talk about?”

  He removes his jacket and hooks it over his arm. Thinks for a moment. “Your brother. How’s his app coming along?”

  “Come Over Rover? Great. He’s found an investor.” She pushes aside coats on the rack. Selecting one at random, she shows Nathan.

  “Try it on,” he suggests, and she does. The thick blue parka, lined with sheep’s wool with a faux trimmed hood, fits well. Flipping up the hood, she extends her arms and turns full circle. “Well?” she asks.