Defying Gravity (Landing in Love Book 1)

by Jennifer W Smith

  “Not everyone else goes flying off with strangers to strange cities. God only knows what situations you could get yourself into.”

  “Mom, I’m careful. I travel in groups with people I trust. I don’t take unnecessary risks. Besides, business people do it all the time—they fly more than I do.” For the first time she noticed true apprehension in her mother’s eyes. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “I’m your mother, dear, I’ll always worry about you.” Cecilia straightened her posture and placed her phone in her purse.

  The two fell silent.

  In a few moments, Olivia asked, “How’d the banquet go?”

  “I was recognized, of course…” Cecilia dominated the ensuing conversation until the nurse returned with the discharge papers. Jacob arrived as Tina handed Olivia the paperwork.

  The trio left after the discharge was official. Beside Jacob’s Porsche, Mrs. Ward kissed her daughter good-bye. “I’ll call you tomorrow. If you want to come stay with us we can come get you.”

  “Thanks, Mom, but it’ll probably be quieter at my place.” They both knew it was an excuse, but her mother didn’t press.

  Olivia slithered into the reeking car, noting that he had wiped down the dash and rug surfaces as best he could. He slipped behind the wheel and didn’t mention the rank odor.

  The dreaded encounter—Jacob meeting her mother—had gone as expected. Olivia had tried to persuade him to leave before Cecilia showed up, but he wouldn’t leave her side. She was grateful he drove her home and didn’t comment on what transpired.

  His continued helpfulness and kindness put her heart at a disadvantage. At times he was as attentive as a lover, but then he’d bark at her. So he gets a little heated when it comes to my interference at the practices. No big deal—it can be worked out. If only he were interested in me in the romantic sense—I could fall for a guy like him. It seemed they were becoming friends, attraction aside. Friends was a good start.

  At her apartment, Olivia urgently wanted to scour her mouth and get into the shower to wash away the sweat from the gym, the stench of puke, and any remaining hospital germs.

  “Thanks, Jacob. I’m going to head right into the bathroom.” She unzipped his borrowed sweatshirt and started to hand it over. “Actually, I’ll wash this for you.”

  “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll toss it in when I get home. I’ll wait out here while you shower in case you need anything.” He tossed the sweatshirt on a wooden chair. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he headed to the sofa. “Leave the door cracked,” he called over his shoulder. He dropped wearily against the cushions and propped his long legs on the coffee table.

  Head throbbing, she didn’t have the strength to argue with him. She headed to her bedroom, gathered some clean clothes, and entered the hallway bathroom. He didn’t look up from his device when she glanced his way. She cracked the door, feeling weird about it. After hanging her robe and pajamas on the inside door hook, she turned on the shower faucet. While the water warmed, she brushed her teeth, twice. She disrobed, dropping her gym clothes in a pile. Stepping into the steaming water helped her relax a bit, though her pulse raced as she pictured Jacob Dodge sitting in the next room.

  You are a hard one to figure out.

  Vomiting in his car had been a definite low point, and yet he’d held her hand and comforted her. He showed a gentler side, compassionate and caring—not only with her. She noticed it when he spoke with the boys individually during and after practice. He cared what happened to them on and off the court. He encouraged them to study hard, get good grades, and do their homework.

  She turned off the shower, dressed, and then detangled her abundant hair. Exhausted, she swung the door open.

  Jacob rose, tucking his phone into his pocket.

  “All clean. Think I’m going to turn in. Thanks for driving me and staying…” She struggled to finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to watch over me.

  “Yeah, well, it was the least I could do. So remember, no television, computer—nothing that requires thinking. Doctor’s orders.”

  “Got it.” She nodded and inched her way toward the door.

  He followed. “Okay, get some rest.” He paused at the threshold. “Call me if you need anything, like if Dylan needs a ride or you need me to pick something up for you. Anything.”

  “I think I’ll manage, thanks.”

  “Okay. Good night.”

  “Good night.” She engaged the deadbolt behind him. When she turned, she spotted his sweatshirt. She grinned. Maybe he’ll return for it.

  Chapter Eight

  Olivia

  The worst thing about having a concussion was the boredom. Seated by the second story window in her apartment, Olivia sipped her tea, watching the hustle and bustle of New Bridgeport pedestrians as they walked their dogs and jogged. The fit moms’ stroller brigade rolled along the brick sidewalks.

  First thing this morning she’d called her supervisor to inform him she wouldn’t be flying this week. Then she tossed Jacob’s sweatshirt into the wash. She phoned Tess, filling her in on what had happened and chuckled at her wildly concerned response.

  Ten minutes earlier while she was making tea, her mother called to briefly check in on how she felt, making sure she followed doctor’s orders. Luckily, talking wasn’t on the brain rest list, but Olivia ended the call when Mom began lecturing her on the lasting results from a concussion if the brain didn’t properly reset. Yeah, Mom, I read the paperwork.

  Settling against the pillow, Olivia brought her warm mug to her lips. The door buzzer rang, rousing her from people watching. She set her mug on the counter as she passed by and answered the intercom. “Yes?”

  “Good morning.”

  “Jacob?”

  “Can I come up?”

  Huh. Why is he here? She pressed the door release at his request. Clad in comfortable clothing, she clapped her hands in prayer, thankful she had put on a bra and brushed her teeth. Though makeup was hardly a priority, she reached into her purse and swiped on some lip gloss. A second later, he knocked. She shook out her hair before opening the door.

  “Back so soon?” Her attempt at being cheerful was hard to maintain when she feasted her eyes on him.

  He entered, walking straight out of a magazine, hunky in fitted jeans and a stylishly cut jacket. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

  She wiped the corner of her mouth. Good. No drool. He looked exceptional and smelled yummy too.

  “Umm, I’m okay. Kinda bored. It took me a while to fall asleep, but once I did, I slept until seven. I have a slight headache, although I took meds an hour ago.” Rambling when nervous was another of her unfortunate traits. She swirled a lock of hair around her finger. We’re friends—why be nervous?

  He tucked his hands into his jean pockets and nodded, but he didn’t say anything.

  “You’re sweet to come and check on me. Or did you come by to pick up your sweatshirt? You left without it last night. I ran it through the wash. Let me go put it into the dryer.” He followed her across the room. Next to the bathroom a closet housed a stackable, apartment-sized washer and dryer. She tossed the small load into the dryer, mindful that he watched her.

  “Want some coffee?”

  “Listen.” He rubbed his neck, a gesture she’d noticed before, which seemed an attempt to relieve the stress trapped there. “I shouldn’t have left you last night. I almost called after I’d gone, but I didn’t want to wake you. I could hardly sleep.” He crossed his arms. “I really feel terrible about what happened.”

  Deeply touched, she placed a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. It was an accident. As you’ve seen, I’m kinda prone to accidents.” His tender touches, passionate care, and worried expression left her heart in turmoil.

  He shrugged, flexing the muscles beneath her fingers, discernable under his thin jacket.

  “I cleared my schedule today, so I’ll be here for you. I can stay the night if you need me to.”

  She removed her h
and from his sleeve and slapped it against her chest, astounded by his concern. “That’s not necessary. I don’t feel dizzy or anything. I’ll be fine by the end of the week.” Lightheartedly, she added, “In fact, I could probably return to work in a few days.”

  Brows drawing close, he cried hoarsely, “No! Absolutely not.” He placed his hand on her back and guided her to the sofa. “You should be resting.”

  “I am not your concern—”

  “Of course you’re my concern. It rips my gut knowing I hurt you.” The intensity in his voice filled the air; he altered it, but still it strained. “I was annoyed, angry. I chucked the ball in frustration, and it resulted in…I don’t usually lose my cool.”

  As she studied him, his eyes transformed, becoming intimate and warm. Careful. You wouldn’t want to cross that line—again. He’d made it crystal clear he didn’t want her in his life in the romantic sense. Yet the longing she glimpsed in his gaze and the tension that gripped her when their bodies inadvertently touched made her wonder otherwise.

  “Like I said, it was an accident. I forgive you.” Lowering to the edge of the sofa, she wished his mood would change. A people-pleaser, she hated seeing him a wreck.

  Again his head stretched, rotating in a semicircle, another attempt at loosening his muscles. Lips pressed firmly, he sat, filling the space beside her, their thighs and knees touching.

  “I don’t know how to make it up to you. What can I do? What can I get you? Anything you want—name it.”

  “Um?”

  “I’ll keep you company. What can I do to alleviate your boredom?”

  “Doctor said no television, or scanning through social media, or even reading a paperback.” She couldn’t hold back her grin as she glanced at the coffee table where her latest romance novel laid. Modest bookcases and various decorative containers around the apartment were piled high with novels, all in the romance genre. “Would you mind reading aloud?”

  “Sure.” He seemed relieved, eager. “I can do that.” He stood and removed his jacket, collecting his phone from the pocket. This time he sat across from her in the chair.

  “I’ve been dying to find out what happens next in this novel.” She pointed to a book with a shirtless man holding a sword and a buxom woman longingly regarding the sexy hero while clutching his knee.

  “Is that a romance novel?” He grimaced.

  “You said anything I wanted,” she tested, giving him her slightly pouty bottom lip and innocent gaze. She was wounded, after all.

  “Don’t you have a magazine? Or I could read an article on my phone.”

  She settled against the cushions. “Nope. Shall I catch you up to speed on the opening? I’m only three chapters in—or you can start from the beginning.”

  With a groan, he leaned forward and picked up the novel. “One chapter. And no update or discussions about the story.” He grumbled, “This is ridiculous.”

  She responded with a tiny shrug. “All right.”

  He opened to the bookmarked page and cleared his throat. “Chapter four.”

  Two pages in, he paused, “Where does this take place?” Flipping the book, he scanned the story description.

  “It’s a Viking romance. Eleventh century. Rowena is taken captive in chapter one.”

  Without comment he continued reading. At the end of the chapter he stood, stretched, and poured them both a glass of water. “I’ll read another chapter if you’d like.”

  “Yes! Thanks for the water and for being an agreeable narrator.”

  He grinned. Easing into the chair, he chugged his glass of water. Finding his page, he announced, “Chapter five.”

  He concluded chapter five.

  She sighed. “How romantic. The way Erik changed all the rules to make her comfortable and happy despite how his men argued against it.”

  “What? This is corny. I can’t believe you read this stuff. You really think it’s plausible he’d give her his battle horse and guard her in the best part of the castle?” He twisted his lips. “She’s supposed to be a prisoner.”

  “An irresistible prisoner.”

  Jacob stood and stretched. “I’m going downstairs to get a smoothie for lunch. What kind do you want?”

  “Oh. I can make us something. I have sandwich stuff.”

  “I don’t eat sandwich stuff.”

  Right. Mr. Perfect Bod.

  “I can make us salads.” When he seemed to consider her words, she added, “It’s mindless work, no trouble.”

  “Okay. Thanks. I’ll have it in addition to a protein shake. You want one?”

  “No, a salad is fine for me.” She’d already started her diet, eating more fruits and veggies and eating less often.

  “I’ll be right back.” He swung into his jacket and left the apartment.

  Taking time to consider Jacob’s kindness and attentiveness toward her, she washed and chopped vegetables and placed them on small salad plates. She saw a different side of him; besides being confident and in control, he was sweet and caring. He would be everything and more in a boyfriend—and the one kiss they shared had altered her standard for life—sparking an eternal flame within her. And no matter her faults, he kept returning to spend more time with her.

  Two months ago she had a date with a lawyer at a fancy restaurant. After she spilled red wine across the table and onto his expensive clothing, he hadn’t called her again. Before him, she had a few dates with a cute drummer from a local band. Not likely their relationship would go any further after a few nights of moderate drinking, but it seemed after she’d taken a tumble off the stage during a performance, interrupting their set and flashing her panties, he avoided her. Apparently she wasn’t prime dating material. Jacob seemed a consistent man in her life at the moment. If only there could be more to the relationship. It wasn’t in her personality to push circumstances. She liked making people happy, not uncomfortable.

  Jacob returned and set two smoothies on the counter. “I bought you one anyway—pineapple peach.”

  She nodded, suppressing a grin at his decision to override her objection. Man in charge.

  They pulled stools close to the counter and sat comfortably. He grinned at the plates loaded with leafy greens and vegetables.

  “This looks great.” He drizzled olive oil onto his salad and added a dash of salt.

  She sipped the smoothie. “Mmm, this is delicious. Thanks.”

  “Anything for my patient.” He chewed a forkful of greens.

  “So tell me more about you. Where did you grow up?” She reached for the olive oil.

  “I grew up in Colorado, an only child. My parents still live outside Denver.”

  “When did you start playing basketball?” She stabbed a red pepper.

  “Same as most kids, second grade. I played every sport until middle school, and that’s when my coach encouraged me to join an AAU basketball league. By sixth grade I was playing year ’round. By eighth grade we were winning every championship. I was scouted in high school and offered a full scholarship for college.”

  “Wow.” She gulped her smoothie. “Quite the superstar.”

  He shook his head. “No. It’s a team sport.”

  Aw, his humbleness tugged at her heart strings. Maybe he’s not as conceited as I first thought.

  “I got lucky having a coach who really influenced me. Truth is, I got caught up with some punks in sixth grade. They were bullying a few kids, one pretty badly. I just went along with it, even though I knew it wasn’t right. The kid who got mercilessly bullied took a bunch of pills and almost died. After that, I distanced myself from the gang, and that’s when the coach stepped in. He worked with me after school and helped me out of a bad situation. My focus on the game has always kept me striving for a successful life.”

  “And now you’re coaching,” she said, profoundly, her heart swelling with admiration. “You’re giving back.”

  “It means everything to me to mentor. I don’t know what kind of path I would have ended up on if it w
asn’t for my middle school coach. I still call him once in a while. He’s retired, living in Arizona.”

  “Aw, sweet.”

  Shrugging in apparent embarrassment, he took their empty plates to the sink. She mindlessly chewed on her straw, admiring his backside while he washed the dishes.

  Got to love a man who does dishes.

  He turned, leaning against the counter. “What now?”

  “I wonder if Erik will thwart Rowena’s escape,” she taunted.

  He ran his hand over his face.

  She pushed on. “Come on—you’re dying to find out what happens next. Admit it!”

  “I couldn’t care less.” He chuckled.

  At her raised brows, he relented. “Fine. One more chapter, and then I’ll read sports news.”

  “Deal.”

  By the time he finished reading several more chapters, the sky was darkening. She glanced at her phone, noting the time. Five. January days were distressingly short, and she leaned over to switch on a lamp.

  After gulping water, he smirked. “I can’t believe I’ve been reading this smut for three hours.”

  “The time flew by. Isn’t it good? I won’t think less of you if you like it.”

  He pursed his lips and tossed the novel onto the coffee table. Leaning forward, he rubbed his eyes and stretched his neck. “Are you hungry?”

  “A little. I can cook something.”

  “Oh no, you can’t do anything but rest your brain. Making a salad is one thing. I’ll order something from around the corner and go pick it up.”

  During dinner they discussed, in depth, the hero and maiden roles of the characters and the romantic struggles they endured as the captive fell in love with her captor.

  After dinner he cleared the takeout packages and washed the silverware. She collected a folded blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders before sitting on the bench window seat.

  Beer in hand, Jacob leaned against the window jamb and looked up beyond the streetlights and treetops. “Clear night.”

  “A perfect night to stargaze at the beach. There’s a lot less light pollution up the coast.” She grinned at the comforting vision, picturing them together in a romantic atmosphere.