Kane (Arizona Vengeance 8)

“Really?” I ask, blinking in surprise.

“I think so,” she replies hesitantly. “Do you want to write this book?”

I don’t answer. Instead, I focus on the fire and watch the flames leap and lick at the air, tiny sparks floating upward to disappear into the night.

Clarke didn’t ask exactly the right question.

She should have asked, “What is it you want to do?”

Drawing in a breath, I shift toward her and admit something I haven’t to Kane. I’ve danced, bobbed, and weaved around the issue, but I haven’t been able to reveal a very important truth.

I know my expression is as miserable as I feel. “I miss being on the road. I miss seeing new sights every day. Meeting strangers, hiking trails, and going to sleep exhausted but eager for an early dawn.”

“Whoa,” Clarke whispers, pulling her chin inward in surprise because within that admission was the incredible guilt I feel over missing that life. I have a great new life with Kane. What he has given me in the form of love, security, friendship, and protection, not to mention an entire new family with the Vengeance, far outweighs being a nomad.

I shake my head. “But that life is over,” I say assertively, not sure if I’m trying to convince myself or Clarke. “It’s okay if I miss it, because I love my new life even more.”

Clarke doesn’t respond right away, and I can tell she’s not buying into my overly logical assessment of the situation. After a moment of reflection, she says, “It’s okay to miss something. It doesn’t mean you’re disloyal to the thing you have in its place.”

“But what if I miss it so much I might be willing to let go of that thing in its place?” I wail miserably.

Clarke’s eyes bug out. “Are you thinking that?”

“No,” I exclaim. “No, no, no. That just popped out of my mouth.”

“There’s probably an element of truth in it then,” she gently suggests.

My gaze drops to my beer bottle, and I start picking at the label as I consider that. And I believe she’s right. My desire to be back out on the road has nothing to do with my feelings for Kane. In fact, my perfect world would be for him to walk away from hockey to travel the world with me. But that’s not feasible, nor is it fair to wish it, because he loves his chosen career as much as I love mine.

“You know, I didn’t realize how much fear Matthew had been holding over me,” I murmur, lifting my gaze back up to Clarke. “I had been so content to give up traveling, to fall in love with Kane and bask in the security he offered, that my traveling days just seemed behind me.”

“But now that Matthew is behind bars—” Clarke suggests.

“My fear is gone, and I realize it was clouding a lot of my feelings. And now they’re resurfacing, and I don’t know what to do with them.”

Clarke tips her bottle back, drains the rest of her beer, and pushes out of her chair. She moves to the small cooler resting in between us, then squats to get another bottle. “Want one?” she asks.

I nod and take a fresh drink, tipping the other back and finishing it off. Setting it on the ground, I remind myself it will go into the recycling bin as we leave tomorrow.

When she settles back in her chair, she says, “Surely there’s a compromise that lets both of you have what you want?”

“Yeah. Of course, there is.” Kane and I had talked about it some. “He’s offered to travel with me over the summer months. And I can take some short trips for maybe a week at a time around the U.S. that are an appropriate driving distance while he’s at away games. We’d have some time apart, but it would be doable.”

Clarke frowns. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Not sure that’s enough for me,” I admit painfully. “Part of what is unique about what I do is the fact I can go weeks, sometimes months, living out of a small van with just my dog, my smarts, and a few provisions. It’s a challenge, and every day, week, and month that goes by that I make it, I experience tremendous victory.”

“It fulfills you,” she murmurs.

“Yes.” My eyes go back to the fire. “But Kane fulfills me, too. In the same way… probably more.”

“If more, then what’s the conundrum?” she asks. “Seems like an easy choice.”

“You’d think,” I agree with a wry laugh. “But what if… what if I’m missing something great? What if that next best adventure is waiting for me around the corner? Maybe just one more for the book. And then I could let it go.”

Clarke has become a good friend in a short time, and she pulls no punches. “But what if you go on a long adventure, and then come back and try to start a life with Kane, but you continue to wonder if there’s an even better adventure waiting for you? I mean… how do you know this would be the last?”