“I’m fine, Mom,” he said.
“Your breakfast is ready,” she called, crossing the front yard to the driveway. “I’m leaving now, so don’t let it get cold. And be careful! You don’t want to do too much. You’ll exhaust yourself and fall, and I won’t be here to help you.”
Jamie raised his hand in farewell as she backed her car onto the street, and drove away. He sighed and closed the mailbox. He’d been home for almost two months, and as his injuries healed and he grew stronger, the walls of his childhood home closed in more tightly around him. His mother worried and fussed over him like he was still a child. His dad had explained to him the fear and anxiety she’d experienced when they’d learned he’d been injured in Syria, but Jamie wished she’d relax, just a little. He was home now, however reluctantly.
Thank God they were leaving in a couple of days for their annual cruise with the McCaffertys. This year they were cruising through the Hawaiian Islands for two weeks. His mother had wanted to cancel the trip, insisting he couldn’t be left alone, but Jamie and his dad had convinced her he would be fine. He was twenty-six years old, and had been taking care of himself for almost eight years. Knowing his mother, she’d make sure the cupboards and fridge were stocked with enough food and beer to last him a month. She’d probably already contacted the neighbors and put them on notice to provide assistance while she was gone, just in case.
He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He loved Glacier Creek, but there wasn’t a whole lot going on in the way of excitement. Even hanging out with his old high school buddies at The Drop Zone, one of his favorite pubs, was a major undertaking. The leg cast, which extended from his toes to mid-thigh on his right leg, made it impossible to drive, so he was pretty much at the mercy of his parents if he wanted to go out anywhere. They’d only be gone for two weeks, but Jamie would be housebound for the duration. He could already feel the itch of cabin fever crawling across his skin.
He glanced at the house across the street, and the empty driveway. Even his best friend, Dylan, who had joined the local smoke jumper crew as a wildland firefighter, was off battling a blaze somewhere in Idaho. Jamie hadn’t seen him in a couple of years, but decided as soon as Dylan returned, he’d get back in touch with him.
As teenagers, they’d sworn one day they would start their own extreme adventure company, along with their third friend, Lucas Talbot. There was nothing they had enjoyed more than pushing themselves to the limit. As adults, they’d each found a career doing just that, but in ways they hadn’t imagined when they’d been kids. He missed Dylan and Lucas. Too much time had passed since the three of them had been together.
His thoughts turned briefly to Dylan’s sister, Rachel, as they always did when he looked at the McCafferty house. Man, he’d been crazy about her as a kid, but time and biology had conspired against him. Seven years his senior, she hadn’t been remotely interested in a scrawny, prepubescent boy. By the time he’d grown up, filled out, and became a man, she’d found herself some rich playboy named Deke Narducci, aka the Deke-wad, and married him.
And that had been that.
He’d been out of the running before he’d even had a chance to compete.
Jamie hadn’t seen Rachel in years, which was probably for the best. She’d been his first serious crush. He still experienced a bittersweet pang of longing and regret whenever he thought of her. She’d been so beautiful, so confident, and so energetic in everything she’d done, that watching her had been like staring too long at the sun. She’d dazzled him. Whenever she’d come home from college, Jamie had found a reason to spend more time at the McCafferty house than he did his own. Dylan had been disgusted by Jamie’s obvious infatuation with Rachel, and teased him mercilessly. Jamie hadn’t cared. The abuse had been worth the reward of seeing Rachel, of simply circling in her orbit. She’d been so full of life, big dreams, and big plans that he’d been in awe of her.
Tucking the bundle of mail into the waistband of his shorts, Jamie adjusted his crutches and turned to go back into the house, when a car turned onto the street. He wouldn’t have paused to watch except it was a sweet little Porsche Carrera GT in a gleaming shade of silver. Low-slung and sexy as hell, Jamie would have given his left nut to take it for a spin. Even as he wondered why a sleek set of wheels like that would have any business driving down Pinewood Avenue, it turned into the McCafferty driveway.
Jamie’s mouth nearly fell open. Had Dylan’s dad finally succumbed to a midlife crisis? A car like that was easily worth six figures. Unable to resist, he swung his crutches in the direction of the car, and then stopped short as the driver’s door opened, and a woman climbed out.