Defying Gravity (Landing in Love Book 1)

by Jennifer W Smith

  “You’re right. I sometimes park in Rye’s pull-off areas after a long day to listen to the waves, stargaze, and unwind. I love living near the ocean. I don’t take my commute along Ocean Road for granted.”

  “Where do you commute from?”

  “I have a condo in Portsmouth. Most mornings I take the highway to work, but several times a week in the evening I’ll pull off one of the beach exits, open the windows, and you know, reconnect.”

  “Sure do. I spend countless hours inside airports, planes, and hotel rooms. I often end up on Plum Island beach to sit and read, or walk, or drink a cup of coffee with the windows cracked in the dead of winter.”

  They fell silent for several moments, each lost in their own musings. She resisted her growing yearning for the man who stood near her. Hmm, he doesn’t date people from the gym or women related to his athletes. That could easily change after Dylan’s basketball season—at least until the following season. Finding a new gym could be arranged. Maybe I’m reading into his thoughtfulness. Or maybe he could have feelings for me? He kissed me, after all.

  “So you moved from Denver?”

  He nodded.

  “New Bridgeport is a big change,” she prodded, getting the sense he was a very private person.

  He picked at the label on the bottle, brows suddenly drawn together. “Yeah, I needed a fresh start. After college I opened my own business—fitness and sports related. My company was successful, and before I knew it I had franchises.” He took a long sip of beer and stared out the window. “I dated—a lot. No one seriously, mostly women from the gym. Some worked there and some were members. Anyway, one woman, a member, wanted to take our casual hook-ups to the next level.” He held up one palm. “That’s the best way to describe it. I tried to break it off gently, saying the workload was too much. I didn’t want a relationship, and things weren’t working out between us.” He took another swallow; the scene seemed to replay in his memory.

  She remained silent, allowing him to tell her all he wished, unjudged.

  “But she went ballistic. Started following me, catching me on dates with other women. She would storm into a restaurant, or a sporting event, or the gym and make a big scene. I contemplated getting a restraining order before I received an official notice. She accused me of sexual harassment, but it was thrown out of court.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered sincerely. She felt completely surprised and humbled he shared such a personal story with her.

  Shifting position, he sat beside her. He gazed into her eyes, his voice weary. “Of course she lied, and the court dismissed the charges. But afterward every woman in the gym had a suspicious look on her face, silently asking, “What if it’s true?” Or “That’s what you get for sleeping around.” The scandal never fully blew over. Suddenly women I asked out avoided me, and the ones I’d previously dated gave me the cold shoulder. At first, I told myself it didn’t matter, but everything I worked so hard to build felt…tainted. I don’t want to make those mistakes again. I’m done with empty relationships. Next time, when I meet the right girl, I want it to be forever.”

  Olivia hung on his every word. Meet the right girl and last forever! That sounded dreamy. Still, she wondered why he was here. Would he reveal his secret feelings for her? Could she be the right girl?

  “Do you think two people as different as a Viking savage and an English gentlewoman could have a lifelong relationship?” he asked.

  The novel. He asked about the romance novel. Does he think of us as a couple so different from each other?

  She wet her lips. “I think it’s possible. If two people are right for each other, they should be able to work through their differences and whatever life sends their way.”

  “Hmm, it’s something to think about.” He stood. “It’s getting late, and you should get some sleep.”

  She stood up too quickly and swayed. He wrapped his arm around her waist, steadying her. She surmised her continued wooziness was caused more by his strong, capable arm wrapped protectively around her than the concussion. The confessions from his vulnerable past had deepened their relationship—their friendship. Her tense fingers clutched the blanket around her shoulders, but she was ready to let go and reach for him. He stirred new and exciting emotions within her, setting her heart adrift, waiting to be recaptured by him. She waited with anticipation for him to lower those firm lips and kiss her senseless.

  A rush went through her as his hand rose up her spine and moved to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. He tilted his head, eyes never leaving hers. When his mouth parted, her heart began to hammer.

  She was ready for his kiss, open to the possibilities of being the right girl and their love lasting forever…

  But instead he said, “I’ll check in on you tomorrow.” He slipped past her, crossing the room to drop his beer bottle into the recycle bin. He collected his jacket, along with the sweatshirt she’d set beside it, and left.

  She stared at the door. “He didn’t kiss me,” she whispered to the silent room. “I think this concussion has rattled my brain!”

  Jacob

  Jacob walked two blocks to his Porsche. Though the temperature barely reached thirty, he carried his jacket and sweatshirt, the cold air refreshing on his heated neck. He wondered why he told her about his painful and private past. He never spoke of it. Yet she was easy to talk to, a great listener, compassionate, with no judgment in her gorgeous eyes.

  When he slid into the car, he chucked the clothing onto the passenger seat and slammed the door. He gripped the stirring wheel. Shit! I almost kissed her again! Women he dated were edgy, athletic, hardcore…not romantic, lighthearted, genuine sweethearts.

  He didn’t trust himself. I can’t go there tomorrow. I’ll just call and check in on her. The more time he spent with her, the more he liked her. The accidental touches had revved his engines. The memory of their kiss was burned in his brain, like an addictive drug he desperately wanted more of.

  But he’d been through enough in his past. This new partnership at the Athletic Club couldn’t be going better. A personal goal, he was coaching a team and found purpose mentoring others. He couldn’t risk screwing it up with her. “There are plenty of fish in the sea,” he muttered.

  He started the engine and drove out of town. When he reached the beach pull-off, he stepped out of his car. The freezing ocean wind blasted his face. He inhaled the salt and spray. He wanted to flush his feelings concerning Olivia, but thoughts of her were as constant as the waves. He repeated the mantra, “There are other fish in the sea…”

  Chapter Nine

  Olivia

  What a shame to have all this time off and not be able to bake. Olivia drummed her fingers on the counter, already feeling cooped up after one day. And it was only one o’clock. She phoned Tess.

  “Hey, Liv. How you feeling?”

  “Bored. What are you doing today?” She filled a small watering can at the sink.

  “Sorry, I’m on my way to Wildcat Mountain with Kyle. He invited me to go skiing.”

  “Kyle from the Athletic Club?” Turning off the faucet, she pictured them together.

  “Yeah, turns out we both have Sundays off. Actually, he’s gonna teach me to snowboard.” Tess chuckled. “I’ve always wanted to try it.”

  “Aw, sounds like fun. You’ll be great at it, I’m sure. Call me tonight and let me know how you did,” she said, as she watered her collection of succulents.

  “I will. You take it easy. And I’ll come by tomorrow between my classes.”

  “Oh, okay, Tess. Someone’s at my door. Talk to you later.” The buzzer had not sounded. Someone had physically knocked. Maybe it was the landlord or one of the other two tenants.

  “Yes? Hello?” She raised her voice.

  “It’s Jacob.”

  She opened the door but blocked his entrance, holding the water can up to her chest like a shield. Glancing around the empty hallway, she asked, “How did you get into the building?”

  “
Two guys said they lived on the third floor.”

  Figures! Leave it to the couple upstairs to let in a handsome stranger. Dragging her hand through her hair, she pursed her lips. “Don’t you need to work at the Athletic Club today?” He’d spent all day yesterday with her.

  “I’ve been there since five. Already put in eight hours.”

  “You don’t have to keep checking on me. I don’t need a babysitter. I can take care of myself.”

  “I know. Of course. But I’m here now.” He shifted at the annoyance in her voice and harsh declaration, defensively crossing his arms over his chest.

  She dropped her gaze, uncomfortable being the cause of someone else’s embarrassment, but his mixed messages were infuriating. I was convinced you were going to kiss me last night! If I can’t be with you, then I don’t want to be with you. No, not true. She enjoyed hanging around with him, but darn it, he was too stubborn to acknowledge his own desire. She eyed him. Persistent. And delicious—to look at and smell. “Well, I am bored to death.”

  The megawatt smile he flashed seemed to magically swing the door open. “Come on in.”

  “What have you been up to this morning?” He hung his jacket and waltzed around casually, like he’d been there a thousand times.

  “Watering my plants at the moment.” She gave the remaining five plants a drink, adding, “I’ve mostly been on the phone, catching up with some friends.” She returned to the kitchen, placing the can on top of the refrigerator. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thank you.”

  While he seemed to consider the artwork and décor of her apartment, she put a kettle of water on the stove. “Did you know Kyle and Tess went skiing today?”

  He chuckled. “Kyle’s been trying to get Tess’s attention for some time. I’m not surprised. They seem to have a lot in common.”

  “What do you mean?” She placed a teabag into a mug.

  Holding his palms up like measuring scales, he weighed their interests. “Both are fitness instructors at the Athletic Club. He’s a strength trainer. She’s a yoga guru.” He shifted his hands. “They’re both vegans and environmentalists. And they obviously love tattoos.”

  She didn’t know Kyle well, had only said a friendly hello in passing. Tess had never mentioned him. How can Jacob be more perceptive than me? It miffed her a little.

  Turning her back to him, she poured the hot water over the teabag. Tugging at the string, she mused. How am I going to deal with this sexy man today? It had been a long fitful night after he left her in emotional chaos last evening. Imagining herself marching up to him, wrapping her arms around his hard bod, and zealously kissing him made her laugh out loud.

  “What’s so funny?”

  She gulped, momentarily forgetting he was still in the room. “Nothing.” The tea burned her mouth as she drank it, but it kept her from saying something stupid.

  He seemed lost in thought for a moment before he returned his focus to her. “So…need any heavy lifting done? Errands run? Can I get you anything?”

  If he insisted…

  “I’d love Aunt Edie’s cookies.” The words were fueled with anguish and craving.

  His face lit up. “Done. Where do I buy them?”

  She didn’t want to reveal her glee. Keeping her eyes downcast, she replied, “No. You can’t by them. Aunt Edie was my actual aunt, and she left me the recipe. I’d make them myself but…”

  “Oh. I’m not much of a baker.”

  “It’s just following directions. I can supervise,” she offered innocently.

  “Ugh.” The hit to his masculinity made him glance at the oven, possibly calculating if it would be worth the trouble. “I don’t know.”

  At the sound of his disappointment and trepidation, she bit her nail to keep from laughing. With a tiny shrug, she sniffed, “Never mind. It’s too much to ask.” Acting disappointed, she sipped her tea.

  He regarded her before reluctantly asking, “Where do I start?” He moved to the sink and washed his hands.

  It seemed as if she had him wrapped around her finger, and yet he withheld his desire for her. Okay, Jacob, the ball is in your court.

  “Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.”

  He did her bidding.

  Slipping around the island counter carrying her mug, she got comfortable on a stool. She pointed to cabinets, listing off ingredients, baking utensils, and cookie sheets. Entertained, her gaze followed him in action.

  “What am I making? Chocolate chip cookies?”

  “You guessed it. Aunt Edie made the best.” The thought of the batter made her mouth water. “You’ll need two sticks of butter and one egg. In the fridge. You can soften the butter in the microwave. Thirty seconds should do it.”

  Following her instructions, he softened the butter, cracked the egg, and measured the dry ingredients.

  “So your aunt, she passed? Was it recent?”

  His genuine interest touched her. “Three years ago. Diagnosed with breast cancer at a routine exam and died four months later. It was a shock to the family—especially my mom. Edie was her younger sister and only sibling.” The devastation of losing Edie had affected Olivia too.

  “Sorry. Were you two close? Did she have a family?”

  “Add three-quarters of a cup each of granulated sugar and brown sugar. Pack the brown sugar.” She considered her aunt for a moment. A giggle bubbled up, and she pressed her knuckles to her lips. “No. Aunt Edie never married. She was forty when she died. She used to say, ‘When I come across a man who can blow my socks off, then I’ll consider him.’”

  “Blow her socks off?” He chuckled. “Sounds like a character.” He scooped some sugar and set it aside.

  “She was hilarious. Always singing off tune, and her laugh…” Olivia giggled. “Aw, I wish you could have heard it. It was infectious.”

  “I suspect you inherited the trait.” He stirred the wet ingredients, eyeing her with the corners of his mouth lifted up.

  “What?” She sat straighter, her interest piqued. “You think I have an infectious laugh?”

  He twitched his lips. “Come on—no one has ever told you that?”

  “Nooo. They say it’s loud, sometimes uncalled for, but not infectious—unless they’re laughing at me.” That sent her into another fit of giggles.

  He glanced heavenwards, but no praying could muffle his laughter. Jacob worked to control his mirth. He cleared his throat and sternly asked, “Okay, what do I do next?”

  She continued to tutor him and kept him entertained. When the cookies finally came out of the oven, he unceremoniously shook them onto the cooling rack, making them topple onto each other.

  “Use the spatula!” She shot off the stool to stand at his side.

  “I can handle it.” He righted the tray and reached for the utensil. Once the cookies were fixed and the trays set to cool, he showed off his handiwork. “Not bad for my first batch of cookies.”

  “I’ll have to taste one before I judge.” She plucked a warm cookie and lifted it to her nose.” Closing her eyes, she delicately inhaled. “Ahh, it’s the cinnamon that takes these babies to the next level.”

  When she opened her eyes, he was leaning against the sink watching her. He said, “Well, I hope all this hard work was worth it.”

  Joke’s on him. “You realize baking is a mindless task for me. I could do it in my sleep.”

  “So this was for your amusement?”

  She deeply shrugged, giving away her act.

  Shaking his head, his shoulders pumped in silent laughter.

  She took a bite, chewing with emphasis and exaggerated joy. “So good! You have to try one.”

  “No. All yours, or you can share them with Tess.”

  “Tess doesn’t eat refined sugars. You two are a lot alike, with your tight hot bods and steely willpower.”

  Eek! I said his bod was tight and hot!

  Embarrassment sizzled through her—all the way to the ends of her hair.

  He dropped hi
s chin to his chest, his gaze skimming the floor.

  Heart hammering, she worried she crossed the delicate line that seemed to exist between them. She didn’t want to be some crazy girl who hit on him when he wasn’t interested. My stupid big mouth! He would likely make some excuse to leave. When he looked at her, she braced herself.

  “Hey, want to get out of here? Drive up the coast?”

  Jacob

  Fresh air and sunshine filled the car as they crossed the small bridge from Massachusetts into New Hampshire. The beach towns were deserted this time of year, so parking in the Hampton Beach lot was not a problem.

  He turned off the motor. “Shall we go for a walk?”

  “Let’s do it.” She slipped on her slouchy hat and zipped her parka. Stepping from the car, she skipped onto the boardwalk and clutched the railing.

  He took his time catching up to her. He emerged from the car and tugged up his coat collar. The view of the ocean and the sun reflecting off it was blinding, making him regret leaving his sunglasses in the car.

  “It feels colder than forty-eight degrees,” he said, stopping at her side.

  “Feels warm to me.” She lifted her face toward the sun. “I can’t wait for summer. Only five more months,” she sang with mock happiness.

  January would soon come to a close, and his thoughts drifted to his team and the upcoming games. An elbow nudged him, and he focused on her shining eyes.

  “Race you to the shore!”

  “I’m not going to race a girl with a concussion.”

  It seemed his reasoning mattered nothing to her. She shaped her fingers and thumb into a mouth and mimicked him. Then, to his complete irritation, she took off down the steps into the sand and hauled ass toward the water. He tried yelling after her, “Olivia! Your concussion…” His voice was either lost in the wind or she disregarded him.

  In seconds he caught up to her, grabbed her puffy parka, and jerked her to a halt. “Seriously. Do you want to hurt yourself?”