One Breathless Night(21)

“How horrible.”

“You’d think so, but it was just the opposite. It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me. To anyone I’d ever known. The rush was so intense, I’d have done it again in a heartbeat, even knowing the odds.”

“Wow. That’s...”

“Weird,” he said. “I know. But before you ask, there were no flying monkeys or wicked witches.”

Jenna sat up. She pulled the duvet over to cover her bottom half, but left her top half bare. God, her breasts were beautiful.

“No, you goof. It’s extraordinary. A real life-altering event.”

“Yep. It definitely did that. It’s one of those things that no one can understand. Like, I could try to imagine what it feels like to win the Super Bowl, but I’ll never know. Or stand on the moon. There aren’t many people who survive being picked up like that, and the few who do, don’t remember any of it.”

“Do you all meet once a year or something?”

He shook his head. “Nope. But I think about it every time I go out chasing. Sometimes I’ll tell bits and pieces to students and journalists, but rarely, and I make the story about someone else.”

“Why?”

“Honestly, sometimes it’s hard to keep to myself. But it’s tricky. Reckless kids, amateur storm chasers, a lot people would only focus on the high, view it as an awesome once-in-a-lifetime experience they want a taste of. They don’t understand the incredible danger involved or that I’m extremely lucky to have survived. I don’t want anyone to get hurt trying to catch a ride.”

“That makes sense, but holy cow, Rick. I’m just... I mean, being swept up in a tornado!”

“Don’t tell me you’re catching the bug.”

“Me? Oh, hell, no. I don’t even ride roller coasters,” she said with such conviction he laughed. “But I can see how it shaped your life. God, no wonder you chase them. How could you not?”

Again, she’d floored him by her insight and her ability to appreciate something that extended beyond her own world. He’d admit it. He’d been somewhat reluctant to tell her the story because he was afraid she wouldn’t get it and he’d be disappointed. “One thing for sure. I’ll never forget what it was like to fly. To tear up the sky. I could barely breathe, but the atmospheric pressure wasn’t what stole my breath away.”

“I can’t even imagine,” she said. “I mean, how are you going to top that, right?”

The air left his lungs and his thoughts stopped. Once again, Jenna had hit the nail on the head. He couldn’t top it. Although God knows, he sure kept trying.

He made up his mind right then and there. “I’m not leaving tonight,” he said. “I’ll catch tomorrow’s flight. If you’ll stay with me. What do you say?”

She kissed him first, and then smiled. “What do you think?”





11

JENNA HAD ALWAYS liked her apartment. It was small, a bit pricey, but she’d been lucky. The place was close to school and had practically fallen into her lap. Her friend Ally had given her a heads-up about the vacancy three years ago.

Another great thing about the place? Rent included snow removal. She’d arrived home late Sunday evening and almost wept with gratitude when she saw that a nice clear path led right up to her front stairs. She was even able to pick up her mail with no problem. Outside the complex, huge piles of dirty snow left by the plows sat everywhere. Boston had been hit hard, and so had most of the suburbs.

Jenna supposed she and Rick should consider themselves fortunate. He’d grabbed the last seat on that afternoon flight out of Logan. And she’d managed to make it home in a little more than two hours.

Halfway to her bedroom, Jenna stopped to check if the small potted fern sitting on the counter needed water, and in just those few seconds she totally forgot why she was going to her bedroom in the first place. For heaven’s sake, it was only Tuesday. And this wasn’t the first time she’d blanked like that.

Rick.

Thoughts of him, the memory of his touch, how urgently she wanted to remember every last detail. If all that nonsense didn’t stop, she’d have to pick up her long-abandoned journal. She wondered if teenage girls even kept those anymore. No, they just put everything out there on Facebook and Twitter.

Not her. She wanted to write about the crucial details. The way he used his eyebrows. With one lift, a certain kind of lift, he could make her bust out laughing. When he furrowed his brows he looked positively Byronic, and made her embarrassingly hot.

Oh, God. She really was the ultimate sap.

Dear Diary.

Ugh. Somebody shoot her now.

On the plus side, it didn’t matter at all what she wrote about him. From this moment on, he was more fiction than fact. He certainly wasn’t going to be a part of her future.

Ah, it was laundry. No wonder she’d done her best to forget that. But there was the basket, ready with clothes in it. She should have washed them straightaway, but yesterday she’d been in a daze, and today had gone by in a flash. She needed to go back to her routine, like preparing her meals the same way she prepared her lesson plans. It would be a little tricky because Payton had been woven into the fabric of her life, but her motivation was strong. And lists and routines made her happy.

But oh, how she missed that magical apartment.

Although her dinner tonight was going to be just as sumptuous as any meal she’d had at the smart apartment. She’d defrosted meatballs she’d made three weeks ago, so she’d heat those along with some bottled marinara sauce. She’d even bought whole wheat Italian sub rolls and decent mozzarella cheese.

Yeah. No difference at all.

It was already dark out at five thirty. The temptation to do the same thing as yesterday—crawl into bed at around six o’clock and fantasize about Rick until she fell asleep—was strong, but no. ROWE was exactly what she needed to get on with her new life.

Routine, order, work, exercise.

Maybe use her journal to examine what had happened with Payton. If she hadn’t realized subconsciously that Payton wasn’t the right man for her, breaking up with him would have been infinitely more painful.

As she picked up the laundry basket, her gaze caught on a framed picture of herself and Payton from the long weekend they’d spent in New York. Not for the first time, she needed a moment to regain her bearings after discovering another piece of their lives that had been scattered around the apartment.

She’d started a box for the obvious things. Since he wouldn’t be spending the night there again, everything in his drawer had been simple. Same with the closet and the bathroom. Then things had become a little more difficult.

Books he’d left here versus books he’d given her. CDs that had found a place in her collection. The TV shows he’d marked for saving on her DVR, some of which she’d found herself enjoying even though it hadn’t started out that way. And some of them a joy to delete.

The phone rang, bringing her out of her reverie, but before she took the call, she put the photo of her and Payton facedown, wishing she had pictures of her and Rick together. Then she went to find her cell phone.

It was her mother. Oh, yeah. This would be an interesting conversation.

“Hi, Mom,” she said, leaving the basket on top of the washing machine before she went to the kitchen. She’d stored half a bottle of pinot in the fridge and half of that went into her glass.

“Happy New Year, honey. I haven’t heard from you since before you left for your party.”

Jenna sat in the comfy chair, the overstuffed beast that didn’t go with anything else in her mix of shaker and craftsman furnishings. Bless its ugly patchwork, the damn thing hugged her the moment she leaned back. “Ah, well, since I can’t figure out a way to ease into this, I’ll just go with the facts. The wedding’s off.”

There was a long silence. A really long one. That Jenna wasn’t going to interrupt. At least it gave her time to enjoy her wine.

“What on earth happened?” Her mother sounded calm enough, though Jenna knew it was a precarious perch.

“He kissed another woman at midnight.”

“Well, honey, that’s...”

“Don’t even bother finding a way to forgive that because there’s more.”

“Oh, God. I don’t know if you’ll be able to get the full deposit back on the dress. Or the banquet room.”

“Not the salient bits, Mom. Truly.”

“Okay, right,” she said, her voice sad. She liked Payton.

“Look, the particulars don’t matter. He wasn’t the man I thought he was, and I’m not willing to settle. The end.”

“You’ve been with him a long time. You told me he was exactly who you were looking for.”

Jenna held back a sigh. It wasn’t as if she wanted to keep secrets from her mother, but they were complete opposites when it came to men...no, to their definition of happiness. Jenna wasn’t ever going to be that woman stuck at home with no idea when or if her husband was coming home. Uncertain every month if the bills would be paid, if her children would have everything they needed to be whole, happy and successful. “I made a mistake,” she said. “I’m grateful it happened before the wedding. It’s much less complicated now.”