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  They came closer and Jack averted his eyes. Though he hadn’t heard a word, he felt like an intruder.

  “There he is,” Spencer called out in Jack’s direction. The orderly settled Jack in the adjacent examination area and didn’t pull the curtain when Jack gave him a wave and a friendly smile.

  “Funny seeing you again,” Jack joked. “Thought you might have had enough male bonding for one day.”

  Spencer’s brows knitted together for just a flash. It was long enough for Jack to fear that he’d offended him, but not long enough to think of a remedy. Chest-tightening dread exploded like a bomb without any warning. The last thing he wanted to do was offend Spencer.

  But then an easy smile curled Spencer’s lips and Jack was even more surprised with the amount of relief that washed over him—relief closely followed by a touch of panic over just how relieved he’d felt. What the hell was going on? Was he starting to feel something for this guy? He tried to recoup his signature nonchalant aura. “I mean, what else could we possibly talk about?”

  Rory stepped toward Jack, sucking her bottom lip just slightly. He wondered if that was something she did when she was feeling nervous or serious. She placed her hand on his stretcher in the space next to his good shoulder. He sensed the impression of her fingers as they squeezed the thin mattress, affirming her sentiment. She crouched next to him. “Thank you,” she said simply.

  Jack thought to make another joke, but stopped himself from minimizing her heartfelt words. He smiled weakly into her soft brown eyes. It was hard to look at her. His need to be worthy of her kindness weighed on him like an anchor. But Jack was also a little confused by her words of appreciation. He hadn’t done anything to deserve them. Still, he nodded, and she seemed satisfied with that.

  “What’s the verdict on your shoulder?” Spencer asked from behind her.

  “Won’t be swinging a golf club anytime soon,” Jack answered, relaxing within the lightness of his tone.

  Spencer responded with a hearty laugh. “Yeah, what a shame.”

  Jack laughed too and now it was Rory’s turn to look confused. It made Jack feel oddly satisfied to enjoy a private joke with Spencer. He let the moment dangle in the air just long enough to realize it was rude to leave Rory out.

  “I hate golf. It’s the lowest form of self-absorption,” Jack explained.

  Rory pursed her lips and crinkled her brow. “Why?” she asked, and Jack found himself smiling. No one had ever called him out on his blatant prejudice about the sport of American business nobility. But then again, Rory wasn’t the kind of woman he was used to chatting with. In his experience, smoky eyes rarely registered more than a question about his bank account when he tossed that line over top-shelf martinis. He’d get a raised eyebrow, perhaps, or a tilt of the head, but no real interest as to the reason. But Rory stared back at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

  Jack couldn’t help but smile even wider at her. “Because I could easily name ten better ways to use that land than for a bunch of VIPs to run around after a ball. Do you know how many affordable homes you could build on one hundred acres?”

  Rory quirked her lip and looked at him quizzically. “Hmm. You’re an interesting dude, Jack Rothman.”

  “Not really,” Jack whispered. “Just sounding interesting doesn’t count.”

  The attending doctor came in and drew the curtain between the two men. Rory disappeared behind the swishing fabric, and Jack felt an inexplicable disappointment. He listened in as the doctor talked to Spencer about his ankle. Jack offered a silent prayer that the damage wouldn’t be permanent. In the short time he’d gotten to know Spencer, it had been perfectly clear just how important climbing was to him. Jack understood what it meant to be kept from something that brought you happiness, to feel stunted, restricted.

  The doctor promised X-rays with a goofy chuckle. “Just to count how many bones he has left,” he said. The joke fell like a stone to the bottom of a well.

  Spencer’s voice was tight. “I can hardly even feel my foot. It’s all just a clusterfuck of pain.”

  “We’ll see what we’re dealing with soon enough. Try to relax. They’ll be here to take you down to Radiology within the hour.”

  Then swish again, as the curtain parted for Doctor One-liner to push his brand of bedside manner on Jack. He prescribed a local anesthetic and talked about gently massaging his shoulder back into place.

  Jack nodded and the doctor continued, describing the sling that he’d be given, after which he’d be free to go. “If you don’t have anyone coming to pick you up, you can arrange for a cab at the nurses’ station.”

  Jack started to speak, but was cut off by the sudden swish of the curtain.

  “We’ll take you home, Jack. If you can wait for Spencer’s cast, that is.” Rory didn’t even apologize for the interruption. Her warm smile said that she didn’t even see why she should.

  Jack might have been taken aback by the intrusion—they put the curtain there for a reason, after all—but those shiny eyes said her intentions were nothing but golden and pure and who the hell could be mad at that?

  So Jack wasn’t mad, but he had his pride: “Thanks, Rory, but I really don’t want to take you two out of your way. I’ll take a cab and…” Jack patted his pants and cursed his luck.

  Rory eyed him and smiled softly. “You lost your keys, huh? Looks like you’re taking a ride home with us up the parkway after all.” She pulled the curtain far enough for him to see Spencer nod in agreement.

  “No way we’re leaving you here at this time of night without being able to get into your place. We’ve got a guest room, plenty of space. You’ll figure it out tomorrow.” Spencer seemed quite casual about it, inviting a guy he barely knew to stay over. It was bighearted of him, of them both. It wasn’t often Jack got to see real life big hearts up close. He stared at them as if they were aliens offering blood grafts.

  “Unless you can get someone else here to pick you up, I’m not taking no for an answer,” Rory said with her hand on her hip. Jack had seen her do that a few times now, always with the same result. That hip must have secret powers. No one seemed to be able to resist her when she put it to use. He found a smile and gave himself over to her.

  “Thanks.” It was all Jack could manage. Rory shrugged and nodded. Jack caught the curtain as she started to close it again. “Really, thank you.”

  She placed her hand on Spencer’s shoulder and he caressed her fingers. With a quirked lip, he tossed a congenial nod toward Jack. “After what the two of us went through, dude, that’s the least we can do.”

  Jack couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of their invitation. In the back of his mind he wondered if he deserved it; he wondered what he would have done without them.

  * * *

  “For such a small injury, they sure give you enough drugs to put you on your ass,” Jack slurred, bumping his head on the door frame of Rory’s tiny Honda. He sunk into the plush velour backseat and circled the palm of his free hand over the surface, trying to get a handle on the light-headed feeling that was threatening to overwhelm him. His injured shoulder throbbed distantly under the haze of narcotics while his arm hung in a sling across his diaphragm. All he wanted to do was sleep, for an eternity if he could.

  “Is there someone we should call? Someone who might be worried about you?” Rory asked as she helped Spencer into the car.

  Jack grimaced. He’d have to call his father eventually. Just not tonight. “I just want to put this day to bed. I’ll face the world tomorrow.”

  Rory turned toward him with a look of understanding. “Don’t worry. Our place is the perfect hideout.” She put the car in drive. “And I make great pancakes. A few of those and you’ll feel like you can do anything.”

  Jack smiled. “Not exactly modest is she, Spencer?” As soon as the words came out he wondered if he’d been too forward and shook his head at how impish he sounded.

  “Modest? Rory?” Spencer said with a chuckle. “Nah, never modest
.”

  Rory poked him in the ribs. “Just because you’re hurt, don’t think that you can’t get it.”

  Spencer acquiesced with a wink tossed to the backseat. “Okay, okay. Sorry, baby. You are the picture of modesty.”

  Rory threw back her head with exaggeration. “Oh yes, and don’t you forget that, mister.” She shot him a surly grin.

  Jack sat back, amused with their jaunty back-and-forth. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander over them. Together they made a good-looking couple, paired perfectly in so many ways. Spencer was tall and muscular at around 6’2” and Rory’s shiny reddish-brown bangs fell just short of his chin.

  She was a sturdy woman who looked like she could keep up with any of Spencer’s adventures up the mountain. Jack had to wonder if she shared his passion for climbing. The thought interested him—two people sharing something that made their heart skip a beat. Something other than sex, that is. The concept was foreign to Jack, having saved all his thrills aboard his little racing skiff for himself. Sex, on the other hand, he shared readily. He was far more selective about who he invited onto his baby girl than who he invited into his bed.

  They spent an hour making their way to Spencer and Rory’s fifties-style ranch house at the base of the Shawangunk Ridge. Rory might not be modest about her pancakes, but the home she kept with Spencer was quietly unassuming, nestled against a sea of black at the end of a sleepy looking cul-de-sac.

  At the door Rory shrugged with a sudden insecurity that caught Jack by surprise. “I didn’t know we were having company, so…” Her keys jangled as she tried to slip the right one into the lock.

  Jack stopped her from finishing. “You don’t need to… I mean, I’m really grateful that you invited me to stay with you guys.” Suddenly he was the one sounding humbled.

  Behind them, Spencer hobbled up the path with his crutches. “Babe, I’m sure Jack won’t mind sharing the room with your piles and piles of books.”

  “I’ve kind of made the guest bedroom into my study cave,” Rory explained. “But right now it’s finals on my summer semester so the whole place is kind of a disaster.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” Jack said, trying his best to put her at ease. She’d left the lights on inside in her haste to leave, along with a gang of books and papers everywhere.

  “I have a big test at the end of the week,” Rory said. She went about scurrying after the mess.

  Jack was curious. “What are you studying?”

  “Working on my master’s in psychology.”

  “Rory wants to make a difference in the world.” Spencer said with a proud nod.

  “Nothing wrong with that.” Jack smiled, and shifted uncomfortably in place.

  “Oh, jeez. What am I thinking? I’m sure you want to get out of those disgusting clothes.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean your clothes are disgusting, they aren’t…they’re nice…or they were…just that you were stuck in that god-awful tunnel.”

  “As you can see, we are really accustomed to guests,” Spencer joked. He put his arm around Rory like he knew she needed the reassurance. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll lend you a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt for the night.”

  Jack didn’t have the heart to tell him he usually slept nude. The fact was, he usually slept nude because he usually wasn’t alone. “Thanks, but I really need a shower.”

  Rory looked mortified. “Of course you do. And you must be starving. Both of you.”

  “Don’t go to any trouble for me,” Jack interjected. “I’m sure I could get a pizza delivered or something.”

  “Not this late,” Spencer interrupted. “Sorry, man. You are officially in the sticks up here. Nothing stays open past ten o’clock.”

  “I’ll whip up something while you’re in the shower.” Rory dodged to the kitchen, calling out from inside the fridge. “I’ve got some veggies and…hmmm…some chorizo sausage.” She popped up over the counter. “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

  Jack shook his head, tilting it as he spoke through a half grin. “I’ve been called lots of things, but never that.”

  Rory giggled and sighed in amusement. “Tell me then, Jack. Of all the things people call you, what do you answer to?”

  Jack felt the telltale rumble low in his chest drawing him toward the hunt. His nostrils flared just slightly, like a wolf on a scent. She was flirting, even if she hadn’t intended to be taken seriously. Jack was more than familiar with the subtlety of women. He licked his lips and a smoldering smile appeared like a reflex. Jack was a hunter, all right. But Rory wasn’t on the menu for tonight, or ever for that matter. He’d have to put the wolf back in its cage.

  “Just call me hungry. Whatever you make, I’m sure it will be delicious.” He pointed a thumb toward Spencer. “This guy couldn’t stop talking about your good cooking.”

  Spencer was looking at them quizzically, his eyes darting back and forth from one to the other. “Yeah, she’s a great cook. Listen, the bathroom is down the hall, second door on the left. There ought to be some fresh towels on the shelf in there.”

  “Cool. Thanks.” Jack took the hint and headed off to the bathroom. Seemed like Jack wasn’t the only one who had picked up on the energy in the air. He grumbled a curse to himself on the way down the hall and promised to make it at least until tomorrow without trying to charm the pants off someone.

  * * *

  Spencer situated himself on one of the counter stools facing the kitchen. His face was full of curiosity. “What was that?”

  Rory flipped her hair out of her face and frowned back at him. “Huh? What was what?”

  He pointed in the direction of the hall bath, where the water was beating onto the floor of the tub in a distant hiss. “That.”

  “Spence. You’re not making yourself any clearer.”

  Spencer shook his head. “OK, maybe it was just me, but…nah, forget it.”

  Rory shrugged. “Forgotten.” She leaned over and kissed him sweetly on the lips.

  Then Rory started slicing a zucchini. Spencer picked up a carrot and began to peel it. He was careful to get all the rough skin off for her before handing it over. They were both silent until she took it from him, her thumb lingering on his hand with a soft circular stroke.

  “I know how horrible it must have been for you in that tunnel…the water. I would have been there sooner…I just didn’t know. I feel terrible.”

  “Don’t do that. You’re the only reason we got out when we did.”

  “I’m just glad you weren’t alone.” Rory glanced down the hall. “He’s not such a prick after all, huh?”

  Spencer had to smile at that. “No, he isn’t. I got to know him some while we were down there.”

  “I guess you would have. Does he have a boyfriend?”

  “Boyfriend?” Spencer tried his best to seem shocked by the question.

  “Yeah, a boyfriend.” Rory shifted her hand onto her hip. “Don’t tell me you think he’s straight.”

  “The subject didn’t come up, exactly.” He cocked his head and narrowed his gaze, as interested as ever. “What makes you think he’s gay?”

  “For one, his eyes like to linger in all the wrong places when you aren’t looking.”

  Spencer shook his head. “You’re bullshitting me.”

  Rory giggled. “Your gaydar is nonexistent.” Spencer was quiet in response to her jibes and she smiled warmly into his unease. “That doesn’t bother you, does it? That he was checking you out?”

  Spencer flew his hands into the air in a gross dismissal of the entire subject. “You’re crazy. He isn’t gay.”

  “I’ll ask him.”

  “You will not.”

  “I won’t be all obvious or anything. I just want to know which one of us is right.”

  “Right about what?” Jack said from the edge of the living room. He was clutching a towel around his waist as best he could with his free hand, the other arm tucked awkwardly into his sling. Spencer swallowed and wonder
ed if the hairs standing up on the back of his neck were a result of being caught talking about Jack or the punishment for staring at his six-pack.

  A pause hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken words on all their lips. Spencer shook it off, cutting the silence with a nervous rap on the counter. “Dude, I’m sorry. We didn’t get you the pajamas.” He started to get up, but Rory was quicker.

  “Babe, don’t. I’ll get them.” She was off to the bedroom and Spencer was left with a tanned, half-naked Jack Rothman staring back at him.

  “How’s your ankle?”

  “Hurts like fuck. Your shoulder?”

  “Nothing a few big-ass pills can’t fix.”

  Spencer tried to find a place to put his eyes. They kept drifting back to the slackened fabric at the darkening trail of hair below Jack’s navel. He actually felt his cheeks burn when Jack caught the line of his gaze. Looking away now would only confirm his guilt. Either way, he was screwed.

  “I kind of doubt that was what you wanted to ask me, though.”

  Spencer looked up at Jack’s smoky grin and immediately turned away in embarrassment. He gazed out the window at fireflies blinking in the night. “Uh, it was nothing.” Shifting gears, he pointed. “Over that foothill is the base of my ridge.”

  Jack sauntered nearer and tucked his head toward the window. Spencer cut his eyes in his direction, unable to resist another peek. Under his breath he cursed in aggravation at his feeble willpower.