Adventures In Parenthood

“I was in a reindeer race.”

“You rode a reindeer?” His eyebrows shot up. It was fun to surprise him.

“You don’t ride reindeer. Well, maybe Norwegian cowboys do, but in a reindeer race you wear short skis and the reindeer yank you down an iced-over trail. It’s like a standing bobsled ride. Very intense. I’ve got the ice rash and bruises to prove it.” She shifted to one hip, unzipped her shorts and showed him the spot.

“Ouch.” A complicated look came into his eyes—sympathy, amusement and a wisp of sexual interest.

“The footage is on my blog if you want to see.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Scout would agree. She bailed on me a hundred yards in.”

“Your cat was with you?”

“We don’t call her Adventure Cat for nothing. She loves to move.”

“And swim, right? Unusual for a cat.”

“Scout is totally intrepid. I found her on a hike in Yosemite, not far from the highway. She was sick. Someone had dumped her. She was terrified, hissing at this goofy retriever who’d cornered her.”

Dixon smiled.

“I nursed her back to health, and she’s been glued to my side ever since. My readers love Scout stories.”

“So what’s your blog like?” The amusement in his eyes made her wonder if Howard had mocked her career to him. Not that it mattered. She knew the value of her work.

“There are tons of outdoor recreation blogs. My niche is women. My tag line is ordinary girl on an extraordinary journey. The idea is to show women they don’t need to limit themselves. I talk about the scary parts and the mistakes, as well as the thrills and triumphs.”

“Yeah?”

“Take the reindeer race. I shrieked and fell, but I kept going anyway. That’s important for fans to see. Another time, I got lost in a Marrakesh marketplace, which is a very hinky place for a woman to be alone at night. I kind of panicked.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Maybe, but the point is that I shared that with my readers. If an ordinary girl like me can do it, anyone can.”

“You don’t seem ordinary to me.”

Pleasure sang in her veins at his praise. “Your brother thinks I’m crazy.”

Dixon didn’t react to that, making her surer she was right about Howard’s opinion. “You’ve tapped into a market if you can make a living at it,” he said.

“I make enough from web ads to live on, but travel costs have eaten up my savings. But I got great news today. My meeting in L.A. was with ALT Outdoors.”

“That’s a big outfit.”

“I know. And they’re close to offering me a sponsorship, which I really need.”

“Yeah?”

“If I can’t afford to travel, I might as well hang up my kayak. An old blog is a dead blog. I need ALT to stay in business.” She crossed her fingers, her stomach churning over all that was at stake. “They’re looking to reach my demographic—single females, 18–35—so it’ll benefit them, too.”

“When will you know?”

“ALT’s sending a camera crew with me for an adventure race in Utah next month. I’ll use their gear and talk about it on camera.”

“Do you have to win the race to get the nod?”

“We have to at least place. Last year, Neil and I took sixth. It’s a challenging race, but not brutal.”

“So you dumped the boyfriend you brought to the party? Rafe?”

“What? Wait. Neil and I aren’t together. Neil’s gay.” She stared at him. She could tell by his tone he hadn’t thought much of Rafe. “What makes you think I dumped Rafe?”

“Did you?”

“We broke up, yes. And it was my idea.” Not that it was his business. “Why do you ask?”

He colored. “I don’t know. You were different around him.”

“How?”

“Subdued. Preoccupied, I guess. You kept tracking him.”

“Hmm.” So her concern had been noticeable. That trip had showed her they wouldn’t work as a couple. An hour into the visit, Aubrey was having a blast with the girls when Rafe sent her a text from across the room: How much longer? He’d endured the visit for her sake, but he had no interest in her family, not even after a year of being a couple.

Rafe had never said he wanted to get serious, but they’d been so good together, had so much in common, she’d assumed that was where they were headed. She’d spun a cotton-candy story in her head—a sweet and fluffy cloud that melted to nothing the instant her tongue touched it. She’d felt like a fool.

“How’d he take it?” Dixon asked.

“Fine. We’re friends.” Aubrey, on the other hand, had been devastated. She hadn’t realized how attached to him she’d been. It took her months to recover, scaring her so much she’d vowed to think long and hard before she got involved with another man.

Dixon watched her, reading between lines she’d prefer to stay invisible.

“What about you?” she asked. “What happened to the girl you brought to that one birthday party. She was a reporter. Bobbi? No. Tommi. I liked her.”

“Tommi. Yeah.” His eyes went soft.

She’d been pretty—dramatic features, dark hair—and mouthy and lively and ambitious. She’d figured Dixon would go for someone more settled, mature, sedate. Boring?

That wasn’t fair, but it was kinda what she’d thought.

“So what happened?” she asked him.

“She wanted to work for a bigger paper. She’s in Chicago now.” His eyes flicked away. He’d been hurt by the breakup.

“You wanted her to stay?”