Jill Shalvis - Chance Encounter

He nodded and made an abrupt about-face, going back for the phone.

Ally was just peering over the cliff again when another car came ripping up the road, peeling to a stop behind the first car.

Brian and Jo came running.

Ally had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. “Get rope,” she told Jo. “Get the guy’s cell phone and call 911,” she yelled to Brian, and they both ran to help.

A sudden calm determination come over Ally then. Without hesitation, she carefully and slowly went over the side of the cliff. “Chance!” she called, moving down an inch at a time, searching for foot and hand-holds.

He shook his head as if clearing it, and looked up. There was a cut on his forehead, and mud over most of him. When he saw her coming down after him, he lost whatever color he had left. “Ally, no.”

Ten more feet. Nine. She wasn’t going to stop now. From above, both Jo and Brian reappeared.

“My God!” Jo cried. “Ally, stop- Wait!”

She couldn’t now, she was committed. And halfway there. Brian came over the edge as well, and started his way down to help her.

Again Chance shook his head, looking a little green around the edges. But he was alert, and he reached up to start the climb.

Ally kept moving toward him, heart in her throat. Hand over hand she went, reaching out carefully, trying not to think too hard about what she was doing, because if she did, she’d lose it. She grabbed at a rock, but it came loose, setting off a slide of rocks and debris. With a gasp, she flattened herself against the side of the mountain, cringing as both she and Chance, who had nearly met her now, took several hits.

“Watch out,” Jo yelled from above. “Watch out for-”

“I’m okay!” Terrified, but okay. The strenuous climb was taking every bit of concentration she had, so she jerked in surprise when suddenly Chance was at her side. She wanted to cry, wanted to grab him, wanted to shake him and make sure he never ever did anything heroic ever ever again, but he was looking at her with that same look right back and she couldn’t speak.

“You don’t have a rope on,” he said hoarsely, maneuvering sideways so he could curve an arm around her. “Ally, my God, if you let go-”

She both laughed and cried, but didn’t dare let go to touch him. “Believe me, I’m not letting go. Now tell me the same.”

His eyes were so dark, so intense. “I won’t fall.”

“Promise.” It was inane, but she needed to hear him, needed him to keep looking at her like that, always. “Promise me,” she repeated tightly.

“Promise.” He nudged her back up, refusing to go ahead, staying right behind her, one tensed arm on either side of her legs. Unable to help herself, she kept craning her neck to look back at him. His hands were cut, his every muscle straining with effort but whenever she looked at him he managed a grim smile and urged her along. “I’m okay,” he kept saying, but she couldn’t believe it. They came upon Brian, who looked Chance over as if he were on Search and Rescue duty before silently and efficiently starting the climb back up as well.

Then they were at the edge, climbing up and over, only to fall to the ground in exhaustion.

Chance went to his knees, weaving once before opening his arms, which Ally dove into without thought, clasping herself to his big, warm, filthy chest. Jo locked her arms around the both of them, and they all dragged Brian into the fray, squeezing hard.

“Okay, so maybe you’re ready for rock climbing,” Chance quipped, but the smile didn’t meet his eyes, which were strained and shadowed.

“That might have been more adventure than I ever planned on,” Ally admitted.

“That was too much for anyone.” He held her so tight she could barely draw air into her lungs, but breathing came in a distant second to being cradled against him.

He was bigger than life. He was brave and untamed. He was uninhibited and earthy, and his love for the outdoors was contagious.

But she was also madly in love with him and he didn’t love her back. He never would. She had to remember that.

“I vote that this was enough training for all of next year,” Jo said, trying to laugh, but her eyes filled. She couldn’t stop hugging everyone, and Ally knew the feeling.

She didn’t want to take her hands off Chance ever again.

Brian, clearly uncomfortable with all the emotion, turned away, but before he could walk, Chance stopped him. “In an emergency, I want to be with you, Slick. You’re one tough, sharp thinker. Consider yourself promoted to staff status.”

“You said I wasn’t old enough.”

“Not for ski patrol, but we’ll find something. You’re official, and as of right now, you’re on the payroll. Next time you risk your neck for me, you’re damn well going to get paid for it.”

Forgetting he didn’t like to be touched, forgetting he didn’t trust adults and that he was openly crying, Brian hugged Chance, a full-bodied, back-slapping hug between two men who weren’t afraid to show how they felt.

“Dammit, stop it,” Jo said, swiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve.

Ally found herself back in Chance’s arms, back in the place she felt the most alive. And the look in his eyes, the heated intensity, the passion, the longed-for affection…everything she could ever want was there.

Yet it wasn’t real.

“Ally-”

“I hear sirens,” she said, taking a step back out of his warm embrace, afraid to let him finish. She knew what she wanted him to say, but not like this. Not in the heat of the moment, surrounded by chaos. Not when it couldn’t last.

The paramedic and rescue unit arrived, as well as the sheriff, who cited the other driver for reckless driving. Chance was momentarily distracted by the paramedics wanting to treat a few nasty scratches. Then the rescue unit needed a report. Arrangements were made for the Jeep to be hauled back up, and finally, finally, the road was cleared and they were free to go.

“Ally.” Chance stopped her as she would have gotten into Jo’s car, and cupped her cheek in his hand. “You’re really okay?”

“Fine.” She sank into the car and tried not to give in to the tears she’d been fighting for an hour now.

He followed her in, clearly wondering what was wrong, but she avoided his direct gaze. She had to, or she’d lose it. For so long she’d wanted to see that look in his eyes, had hoped and dreamed for it. Now, in this situation, an emergency, with adrenaline flowing, and thrills aplenty, she had it.

And it wouldn’t-couldn’t-last.

Soon enough, he’d go back to looking at her as if she was a problem he didn’t know what to do with. A problem he wanted to go away. He sat right next to her in Jo’s little car, pressing his big body close to hers. She could feel the heat and strength of him, could feel his gaze like a caress.

“It was you,” he murmured. “You saved me.”

“No.” God, not his gratitude on top of everything else. That would make it all the harder to bear. “You would have made it without me.” Above all else, he was a survivor.

He stroked her jaw, then turned her to face him, his eyes both fierce and tender. “ You got 911 called, you said my name over and over, you kept me alert so I didn’t let go. You were the one, Ally.” He reached for her hands, bringing them up to his mouth, gently kissing the scrapes on her knuckles. Then he hauled her close, until she was tucked up against him, holding her as if she were his entire world.

He was trembling, and she stroked her hands up and down his back. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “You’re fine now.”

A rough laugh escaped him, and he squeezed her tighter. “Do you think I care about me? It’s you, Ally. It’s always been you.”