Defying Gravity (Landing in Love Book 1)

by Jennifer W Smith

  Chapter Three

  Jacob

  Jacob drove past the National Wildlife Refuge sign and the uninhabited ticketing stand on Plum Island. The eleven-mile barrier island offered prime real estate to clusters of beach houses on half the island; the other half was environmentally protected. On the reserve, the lone road led to a beach point. Along the way, he could access several nature trails. This narrow strip of road was deserted in winter months except for the occasional bird watcher eager to photograph the Canadian birds that had migrated south.

  He parked among four other vehicles. Hardly any snow remained, except in shady spots or the mounds from clearing the parking lot. Stepping from his Porsche, Jacob zipped his warm, wind-resistant hoodie. He stretched, the midmorning sunshine warm on his face. He cautiously rotated his right shoulder, wincing. The old sports injury was never forgiving. Starting off at a comfortable jog, he inhaled the cool air, filling his lungs to capacity. On the exhale, he released the stress he seemed to constantly hold. This week, between Christmas and the New Year, would be quiet at the Athletic Club. This gave him time to finalize his schedule for the incoming recreational basketball team he’d been assigned to.

  Nearing the mile mark, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He twisted his head, cranking his neck, before slowing to a stop. A woman was precariously bent in half, intertwined with some bare sticks of shrubbery, her shapely behind in full view.

  “Miss? Are you all right?”

  The woman teetered at the sound of his booming voice. “Oh!” she cried, almost losing her balance, drawing her arms back to steady her folded form.

  He approached, trying to avoid the patches of remnant snow and muddy ditches.

  Still bent over, she mumbled, “I accidently dropped my phone in these pucker bushes, but I can’t reach it.”

  “Here, let me help.” He marched up behind her as she unfolded and stepped back. Her sneaker landed on a muddy patch, and she lost her balance and toppled backwards into his arms. An unladylike howl rent from her lips. He instinctually caught her, but his palms inadvertently landed, and were filled by, her heaving breasts. He swiftly righted her, slipping his hands from her thin layer of clothing to steady her at the elbow.

  Nice view of her ass and then a stop at second base. Maybe my luck is changing.

  She spun, yanking her sweatshirt closed.

  Shit. Nope.

  “Ohmygosh, you’re the god—I mean guy—from the gym.”

  Okay, this is a small town, but what are the chances of running into the same girl I stupidly flirted with last month?

  In the past, his love life had been a revolving door. He’d been focused on building his business, his brand, not building a relationship. Moving to this town and forging a partnership with a premier East Coast multi-sports and fitness complex was his new goal in life. There was no way any woman was going to derail him this time.

  “Olivia Ward, right?” It irked him that he easily recalled her name. Usually by the time he memorized a name and a face, it was time to move on to the next girl. He didn’t consider himself callous with regard to women, just uncommitted. During his college days when he played basketball, he couldn’t make time for a girlfriend. The game was his passion. Still was. And yet he distinctly remembered her, though he wasn’t ready to admit she’d crossed his mind on several occasions.

  “Sorry about the…ah.” He cupped his palms, causing her cheeks to flush. Ridiculously cute.

  She loosened her death grip on the fabric. “No worries. And yes, I’m Olivia. Ah…I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

  His glance flitted away. I didn’t expect her to remember my name. Though a multitude of women had pleasurably sighed it. Clearing his throat, he said, “Jacob, Jacob Dodge.”

  “Oh right, how could I forget? I meet a lot of people.” She chuckled and confessed, “Sometimes I’m such an airhead.”

  She must have realized she was babbling, and her demeanor shifted. Rounding her shoulders and clearing her throat, she said, “Yeah, so my phone. Funny story. I got warm while I was running, so I unzipped my hoodie. When I did, my earbuds unplugged from my phone. I realize I should have stopped jogging before I reconnected the plug because I wasn’t paying attention when I tripped on a pothole. That’s when I accidently launched my phone over there.”

  He tried not to grin at her animated reenactment of the launch and followed her gaze toward the thorny bush, where the phone stuck out of a tiny snowbank. He moved around her and easily reached it. After wiping the wet screen on his sweatshirt, he handed the phone to her.

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” The little beauty mark under her left eye held his attention until the breeze tugged at the loose strands of her hair. The majority of thick strands were secured in a high ponytail, but being entangled in the bushes had sent the ponytail listing to the right. A twig protruded among the escaped locks. He reached to remove it.

  The closer he reached, the wider and darker her eyes became. With a pluck, he held up the twig, along with his other hand in defense. “I’m assuming you didn’t want this in your hair.”

  Slapping her palm over her mouth, she muffled her laughter, her eyes twinkling and refracting light, keeping his undivided attention.

  Despite his seriousness, he nearly laughed too.

  “Thank you for helping me. Maybe I’ll see you around the gym.” She sidestepped him, heading in the direction he had jogged from.

  “I look forward to it,” he called to her retreating form, grateful she didn’t turn around to see him roll his eyes. What possessed me to say that? She’s a member of the Athletic Club. Forget about her. He turned and jogged away in the opposite direction, putting as much distance between them as he could, even though he’d love to jog along behind her for the view. Increasing his speed, he sucked cold air into his lungs and forced his mind to concentrate on the outdoors. It was impossible to forget the feel of her breasts in his palms. Fisting his hands, he wished he still held them.

  I need a cold shower. Forget her. He focused on the new basketball program and how he wanted to structure his team. Ideally his daily runs were meant as a physical and mental break from work, but today there had been a shift in his paradigm.

  Olivia

  Olivia approached the parking lot and stepped quickly toward her two-door Volkswagen Beetle convertible. She had returned to her vehicle, not listening to music, but pondering her awkward encounter with the sexy god who’d felt her up. When she recognized the man who caught her, her knees had melted and her breasts tingled. The intensity in his gaze had made her legs turn to noodles. When he leaned forward, raising his hand to her face, she imagined he was moving in to kiss her—not pluck a stick out of her hair. Under the wrong impression, she had leaned forward. Noticing the twig in his hand, mortification sizzled through her. She froze, silently cursing the situation, and prayed she hadn’t puckered her lips in the moment.

  How humiliating! He must think I’m a total imbecile. And why did he continue to flirt? She mimicked his voice, “I look forward to it.” As if. What a Casanova!

  Standing at the driver’s side door, she reached into her sweatshirt pocket for her car keys. Empty. Cringing, she reached into the other pocket. Empty. She tried the door. Locked up tight against the cold. After scouring the ground around the driver’s side, she searched the lot for other joggers or bird enthusiasts. Not one person in sight.

  “Okay, I’ll just find a ride home and get my spare key,” she said aloud in a calm voice. Glancing at her phone, she scrunched her nose in dismay. Tess had started a yoga class less than ten minutes ago—a ninety minute class. I shouldn’t have opted out of the class for a run. Dad would be teaching too. Piper had returned to campus. Mom? No—anyone but her mother, who would give her a tongue-lashing. She dialed one friend. No answer. Then she dialed another. By the time the third voicemail picked up, Jacob jogged into view.

  His expression concerned, he asked, “Is everything all right?�
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  She considered making up a story. I’m waiting for a friend? I’m checking out the birds? But in the end she wasn’t a fibbing person. And anyway, what did she care if he thought she was a moron? She grinned sheepishly. “It seems I’ve lost my car keys somewhere along the road. I’ve been calling around for a ride, but no one’s answering. I guess I’ll call for an Uber.”

  “Maybe they fell out of your pocket where you dropped your phone. I’ll drive you there to search for them if you’d like.”

  There seemed to be no judgment on his handsome face, just concern. Was his offer to help her genuine? “Umm. I shouldn’t get into a car with a stranger.”

  “We’re not strangers. We’ve already met twice, and your best friend works for me. Besides, you were planning to get into an Uber.”

  Yep, he thinks I’m a moron. “Okay, that’s nice of you. Thank you.”

  “Anything for a damsel in distress.”

  “I’m no damsel. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’m a flight attendant. I fly all over North and South America—and I manage just fine,” she huffed.

  “Okay. The strong, independent type. I get it. But everyone needs a little help now and again,” he said, grinning. Yanking the keys from his pocket, he crossed the lot to his 911 Carrera. He clicked the key fob and opened the passenger door.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat after her idiotic outburst, she slid into the plush leather seat. It hugged her body like a second skin. “Wow, this is fancy.” If only Dylan could see me! Her little brother had a poster of this exact same car, only in red, tacked to his bedroom wall.

  Smirking, Jacob rounded the hood and slipped in beside her. The engine purred to life. He avoided the potholes until he pulled over at the mile marker. He turned off the car, and said, “I’ll help you look.”

  After ten minutes of searching, he asked, “Do you have a spare set of keys?”

  She nodded.

  “If I bring you home, is there anyone there who can you let you in?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she blurted. She gauged his interest in her comment. He rewarded her with a slight nod and a gleam in his eye. “Or a roommate,” she added. “But the guys upstairs work from home and can buzz me in. I have a hideaway key inside.”

  “Great. I mean, it’s smart to keep a hideaway key, just in case.” He rubbed his hands together, perhaps to ward off the cold. “Shall I take you then?”

  At his mercy, she agreed. They got back into the car. Strapping her seatbelt on, she said, “I appreciate your help. I don’t live far from the Athletic Club. I could even walk. Are you heading there today?” She reveled in watching his profile as he drove, his attention on the road. The scenic drive along the Merrimack River normally held her interest, but not today. Not much could compare to the vision of the man next to her. In the confines of the vehicle, the smell of leather and spicy man combined into an intoxicating potion.

  “Yeah, I’ll head in after lunch. I have paperwork and marketing things that need to be taken care off.”

  Within ten minutes, at her instruction, he parked the Porsche in front of Good Blends, the local ecofriendly smoothie establishment. “I live above this shop.”

  “I’ve stopped here many times. They have a great variety of green smoothies.” He turned off the engine and glanced at the time. “Are you hungry? I’ll get us something for lunch.”

  Olivia smoothed her flyaway strands and nodded.

  “Let’s go in,” he said, and he climbed from the car.

  Before he could open her door, she flipped down the visor to fix her messy hair in the mirror.

  “Hey, I should be buying you lunch for helping me. If you give me a minute I’ll run upstairs and get some money.”

  “No”—he waved away her offer—“I got it.”

  Inside Good Blends, the young girls working behind the counter eyed Olivia’s companion. Two of the three rushed the register to take his order.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’ll take the Green Goblin,” he said to the girl who had spoken up first. He waited for Olivia to make a selection.

  “I’ll have the same.”

  Jacob was friendly, gifting one of the teenagers his sexy smile while he paid. When the girl handed him the smoothies she blatantly batted her eyelashes at him.

  Olivia collected and sipped the thick dark green concoction, turning away from the fawning teen. Flirt with someone your own age. She strolled toward the door, but Jacob tapped her shoulder and pointed to a small table with a pair of chairs. As she sat, she couldn’t figure out why he wasted his time assisting her. He still has to drive me back to Plum Island.

  “It’s delicious. Thanks.”

  “Sure. So…” He dropped into the modern plastic seat across from her. “I’m surprised I haven’t run into you here. It’s close to the Athletic Club, and I’ve jogged here dozens of times in the last six months.”

  “Yeah. I come here all the time. This place is convenient on the days I fly out. I don’t like to fly with a lot of food in my stomach.” What she didn’t reveal was that a heavy breakfast made her feel bloated, and her uniform was already on the tight side these days.

  “Do you have a favorite destination? Can you choose which flights you want to work?” He leaned, an arm casually slung along the chair’s back.

  “Yes, thankfully. After working for Venture Airlines for five years, I can choose my overnights. I love how every city has its own culture. I kinda have a thing for baking, so I’m always on the hunt for a great bakery. Of course, New York has hundreds. But San Diego has an adorable cupcake shop I visit every month. As for a favorite destination, I don’t really have just one.”

  “How do you locate the bakeries? Google the area?”

  “Sometimes Googling works. But I talk to the passengers—they’re a wealth of information.” Nervous, she sucked down her smoothie in a matter of minutes. Fiddling with the straw, she said, “Tess mentioned you’re new to the area. How are you liking New Bridgeport?”

  “I haven’t had the opportunity to sightsee. I’ve been dedicated to the Athletic Club. What do you do for fun?”

  “In the summer, Tess and I love paddle-boarding. During the fall, it’s all about leaf-peeping and apple pie baking. This time of year is good for ordering takeout and watching movies.”

  She was a hopeless romantic whose bookshelves were stuffed with paperback novels. Her movie preferences ranged from sweet romances to steamy love stories. Before he could ask, she stood and hurriedly said, “I’ll go get my spare key.”

  He sat forward. “Oh.”

  “Wait here.” She recycled her cup and dashed out the door.

  When she returned to the sidewalk, Jacob leaned against his head-turning sports car, arms crossed over his hard chest. He smiled when he noticed her and moved to open the passenger door. She had redone her ponytail and applied lip gloss before leaving the apartment. His gaze lingered on her lips, and she wondered if he noticed.

  Returning to Plum Island, the ground-hugging car skirted the block, and they cruised along the river. As the marsh spread on either side of the road, she again expressed her gratitude. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I hope I haven’t taken up most of your day.”

  “No problem. Any friend of Tess is a friend of mine.” He pulled up next to her Beetle, but before he could put it in park, Olivia jumped out.

  “Thanks. Bye.” She was behind the wheel, the engine roaring to life, before he could respond. Of course he pulled out directly behind her and followed her down the one road leading off Plum Island. In the sunshine she could make him out in the rearview mirror, though she tried a thousand times not to look at him. He was nice to me because of Tess. Nothing more. If she went on instinct alone, however, there was no denying the fascination in his gaze when he regarded her. It made her nervous. I can’t get involved with a heartbreaker.

  Chapter Four

  Jacob

  December brought unusuall
y warm temperatures to New England, which made the frigid January weather that followed harder to accept. Inside the New Bridgeport Athletic Club teen boys gathered for their first basketball practice of the season, unaffected by the blustery day outside.

  The New Bridgeport Youth Basketball Association tryouts received a great turnout. Jacob was assigned to coach the ninth-grade boys team.

  Jacob called to the teenagers, “Okay, guys, bring it in.” He read names off the sign-in sheet, giving them each a t-shirt with a number attached. He marked numbers next to each name.

  Brady Fitzpatrick, 2. Sam Holden, 5. Logan Kelly, 12. He scanned the next line. Dylan Ward. Ward. The name gave him pause. He mused for a moment about the woman who’d showed up at the end of a yoga class and who’d tripped, sending her phone into a snowy shrub. Calamity Jane. “Ward.”

  A teenager on the taller side in the group stepped up. The kid had the same tawny hair, but his eyes were gray. Before tossing him a t-shirt, he asked, “Ward—any relation to Olivia Ward?”

  The kid exchanged glances with a friend before he said, “Yeah, she’s my sister.”

  Olivia’s image filled his vision—large hazel eyes, thick hair infused with shimmery gold strands, a body rounded in all the right places. Everything about her was luxurious. He tightened his jaw, appalled he even asked. Why is her name burned into my brain? Visions of her bent form and soft curves lingered, until he cleared his throat, forcing a mental mind shake. With a curt nod, he tossed Dylan Ward a shirt and jotted down number 11. He continued to work the roster, on edge but focused on the boys.

  While the boys filed into place, he glanced around the gym, not that he expected to see her. When his gaze reached his partner Rick, he frowned. The Athletic Club’s founder strolled in his direction, speaking with Olivia. The charming smile she bestowed upon Rick made Jacob scowl. Gripping the clipboard with unnecessary force, he cracked the plastic along the corner. He released the pressure and turned toward the court, unable to watch.