Freefall by Jill Sorenson Page A

hazardous.
    After washing her face, brushing her teeth and fixing her hair, she felt human again. Hungry, actually.
    She joined the others around the campfire. Ron was serving cinnamon oatmeal. Accepting a bowl, she took a seat by Jay, careful to give him the good side of her face. Mornings-after could be awkward. Some guys acted evasive or avoided eye contact. Others lingered too long or talked too much.
    Jay didn’t talk at all. Nor did he avoid eye contact. He stared at her openly, as if enthralled by her presence.
    “Did you sleep well?” she asked, smiling a little.
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “Caleb snores.”
    Laughing, she tested a spoonful of oatmeal. She’d hardly eaten yesterday, and she was starving.
    “How about you?”
    “I miss my bed,” she said.
    Faith didn’t understand why Hope liked roughing it so much. Maybe her sister was a masochist. For the past ten years, she’d been punishing herself.
    Faith dealt with loss in a different way. She was more of a hedonist. Hope wallowed in martyrdom; Faith chose to carpe diem. She wanted to forget her troubles and be carefree. While Hope tried to rule the wilderness and save everyone within a hundred-mile radius, Faith stayed on top of her appearance and any men in her vicinity.
    It wasn’t that she didn’t have deep feelings. She just preferred to skim over the surface and keep things light.
    A helicopter rose over a nearby mountaintop, flying so close that the sound of the whipping blade drowned out conversation. Jay went still beside her, frowning at the intrusion. The stubble on his jaw was black as pitch, which made his dyed hair appear even more incongruent.
    The helicopter disappeared, but a strange tension remained. As they broke down camp and loaded the raft, Jay continued to glance up at the sky.
    “Friends of yours?” she asked him.
    He took the question seriously. “No.”
    “It was a joke.”
    “Oh.” Picking up her bag, he carried it to the raft for her. “I enjoyed your company last night.”
    “I could tell.”
    The corner of his mouth tipped up. She liked the way he responded to her, and not just in the physical sense. Men had found her cute and funny before, but his attention felt different. He seemed surprised by her.
    She vowed to catch him off guard again, to delight him with her daring. “Are you going to take care of me out on the water today?”
    “Of course,” he said.
    “Then maybe I’ll take care of you later.”
    His eyes darkened at the suggestion. Smiling, she joined the other rafters. He watched her strip down to her bikini top and shorts, looking as if he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and carry her into the woods, caveman-style.
    She’d forgotten how much fun it was to flirt with a hot guy.
    Rafting, however, dampened her enthusiasm. It was still chilly when they headed downriver, and her scrawny arm muscles were sore from paddling. She’d much rather be lounging poolside with a cocktail in Las Vegas. Maybe next summer, when she brought her sister there on vacation, she could squeeze in a visit with Jay.
    Faith rejected the idea as soon as it popped into her head. She had nothing against booty calls, but scheduling one a year in advance, with a guy she’d just met, wasn’t her style. Pleasuring him in the woods was as far as her plans needed to go.
    She moistened her lips in anticipation.
    An hour later, Faith was clinging to the raft for dear life, her steamy fantasy doused by ice-cold rapids. They entered the first stretch of a section Ron called “the slickies.” Underwater whirlpools, which appeared deceptively flat and slick, lurked at frequent intervals, ready to spin the boat backward.
    The dips and drops were worse. The front of the boat caught air, only to slam down with an epic splash.
    After they made it to a relatively calm area, Ron pulled over to “scout ahead.” He jumped out of the raft and scrambled up a tall rock, studying the next bend of the river. While he was busy, his radio