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“What’s this?”
“Have a look.” He picked up the wrapper from his drinking straw and began creasing it back and forth into an accordion as she opened the package. Tom’s version of fidgeting. Behind the breezy facade, he was nervous. It was somehow a heartening thought.
The envelope was full of maps, all of them marked with the familiar Adventure Cycling logo. She flipped quickly through the stack and saw several sections of the Atlantic Coast route, plus what looked like the full Southern Tier, crossing the country from Saint Augustine, Florida, to San Diego, California. There were a few maps from the Sierra Cascades route, too, which ran north-to-south along the Pacific Coast.
“I don’t understand.” But she did, almost. These maps would take someone all the way back to Oregon on a bike. Or two someones.
“The Atlantic Coast route crosses the TransAm here in Ashland. So I was thinking, you know, we don’t have to go to Yorktown at all. We could turn south and head home along the Southern.”
She stared at him, poised halfway across a tightrope. He wanted her to keep riding with him. That was good news. It was such good news, her heart was doing backflips. But she couldn’t forget that the “why” mattered, too. The “why” mattered a lot.
“You want a riding companion?” she asked.
“No.” He put a lot of force behind the word, but didn’t say more right away. She waited, and he raked his hand through his hair, disturbing the waves it had settled into. “I’m not going to knock our companionship deal, because it bought me time with you,” he said finally, meeting her eyes. “No matter what happens now, I wouldn’t change that for anything. But I don’t want to be your companion anymore.”
Where does that leave us? He didn’t want to go on as they were now, but he did want them to go on together. Had he figured out he loved her? Would it make any difference if he had? She wanted to ask, but she was afraid of the answers—she was terrified, actually—so instead she said, “I have to be back in the classroom in two weeks.”
“I know that. But I’ve been thinking. You told me you don’t have much interest in teaching these days. Would you be willing to give it up?”
“You want me to quit my job so I can ride back across the country with you?” The idea had so much appeal, she had to stomp it dead immediately. It was a fantasy. She recognized it at once, because it was her fantasy. She and Tom riding off into the sunset. And it would be good for a while. Who was she kidding? It would be fantastic. But sooner or later, reality would return and cut the legs out from under them. She wasn’t going to run from life with him. Was that what he was asking her to do?
He still hadn’t answered her question. She looked at him expectantly.
Tom sighed. “Sorry, I’m not doing this very well. You have to cut me some slack. I’ve never laid my heart out on the chopping block before. You’re a scary woman with a butcher knife in your hand.”
His heart?
He barreled ahead. “I have this idea for a business, something you and I could do together. I thought maybe we could run bike tours in Oregon. If we used local people for all the food, support, that sort of thing, it would create a few jobs. We could even do themed tours where we gave some insight into different aspects of the state, like a mountain biking tour with a sustainable forestry theme, or a winery tour where you learned about organic agriculture. Kind of a green thing.” He grimaced and swiped his hand across his mouth. “I don’t know if it will work. I’ve been thinking about what you said about penance. I thought—I thought it might be a way to give something back and move on with my life at the same time. But maybe it’s a bad idea.”
“It’s a good idea.” She reached for her margarita and knocked half of it back in one long swallow, hoping to still her shaking hands. It was a good idea. Also a seductive one. She could easily imagine leaving her lesson plans and paperwork behind to spend the days outdoors, showing people the wonders of the Oregon landscape, teaching them about the beauty all around them. Watching Tom tune up bikes for the clients while he chatted about his travels. The stories they would hear and tell. All the adventures they’d have. Maybe even a family someday, a kid kicking around the campsites and bringing her pinecones to look at. Tom teaching their child the names of all the trees.
It wouldn’t be the future she’d dreamed about when she’d been engaged before, but that future held zero appeal for her now. This would be the future she hadn’t even known that she was looking for before Tom. Not some cookie-cutter ideal, but a happily-ever-after that fit the two of them perfectly.
Could they have that together? Her heart said they could, if he wanted it, too, if he was ready to stop running and start living, if he loved her.
But he hadn’t said any of those things.
When she worked up the courage to look at him again, she found uncertainty in his eyes. She knew how he felt. She was still on the tightrope, after all, and it was scary up here with no net. “Are you saying you want me to be your business partner?”
His eyes cleared, and he shook his head, confident again. “No. I mean, yes, but no. If you don’t want to do the touring company, we’ll do something else. I don’t care what. I love you, Lexie. I should’ve said that firs
t, I guess.”
She nodded, eyes wide, afraid to breathe. Yes, he should have said that first. But she was glad he was saying it now. So glad, she had to remind herself to exhale.
“Sorry.” He drained his margarita and cleared his throat. “Let me start over. I love you. I want you. I can’t stand the idea of riding into Yorktown tomorrow and saying goodbye. I want us to be together, all the time, from here on out. Was that better?”
He smiled tentatively, and she blinked away tears. Tom reached across the table to wipe her damp cheek with his thumb. Happiness had struck her dumb.
That was okay, because Tom still had more to say. “I’ve been trying to find the middle ground, Lex. I talked to my mother, just for a few minutes the other day. Taryn set it up. Mom sounded … She sounded like she’d been hoping to hear my voice for five years, actually. She sounded completely overjoyed.” He smiled again, wider this time. “She wants to meet you.”
Lexie found her voice again. “You want me to meet your mother?” She slumped back in the chair. “Oh my God.” And then she sat up straight, electrified by a sudden thought. I want us to be together, all the time, from here on out. That wasn’t—no. Was it? Shaking her head, she said, “I’m sorry. I’m a little confused. Tell me you didn’t just ask me to marry you.”
Tom laughed, a short, slightly desperate sound. “No. But I would if I had the faintest hope you’d say yes. I figure it’ll take me until at least Texas to prove I can be something other than a melancholy hermit. For what it’s worth, when we switch from the Southern to the Sierra Cascades route, we won’t be too far from Vegas. If you’re willing.”
She stared at him openmouthed. Tom wanted to marry her. They’d been riding along, sleeping in separate tents, and he’d been mending fences with his family and formulating business plans and intending to marry her. Of all the high-handed, arrogant—“Were you ever going to tell me?”
“I’m telling you now.”
