Glory Falls

by Janine Rosche

  “Thomas? Where’s Cassie?”

  “She was going to come over, but she has a new boyfriend, and his family is in Billings.”

  “I know this isn’t ideal, but could you call your parents?”

  “Mom has a new life, and I haven’t heard from Dad since September. His phone’s disconnected. He could be anywhere.”

  A mumbled curse seethed from her end. “Here’s what you need to do. Go have dinner with the Matthews family.”

  “No, I—”

  “They love you like a son. I do not want you to be alone today. And I’m going to call you later and find out how it was. If you don’t go, I’ll strap myself onto the front of the very next plane. Do you want me to freeze? And get pelted with bugs and geese and flying reindeer?”

  Thomas resisted a laugh. That was something else. Blue could make him laugh on the worst of days. One more thing that made her the kind of girl he could spend his life with. Maybe even marry. That is, if he could trust himself not to become either of his parents.

  “Promise me, Thomas. Promise me you’ll call them.”

  “I will.”

  “I’ll be home soon. I won’t let you go through a hard night like this alone again. I know what that’s like, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. From now on, if you find yourself in the dark, I’ll be there to pull you out. And you do the same for me. When I get home, we’ll pinkie swear on it, okay?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Blue was first off the plane in Bozeman. The trip to see her parents, although nice, was far too long. Especially after her Christmas morning conversation with Thomas.

  He’d stayed true to his word and attended dinner with Robbie’s big family. According to Keira, he’d been quiet and had bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep but was otherwise glad to be there. Blue had set her alarm to call him that night to check on him. Afterward, they’d talked every night he was home and texted when he was on shift.

  But she was ready to see him. The walk through the terminal to baggage claim took her right back to the last stretch of the drive from California every June. She would always unbuckle her seat belt early against her parents’ commands and keep one hand on the handle, ready to spring the door open as soon as they stopped the car at their Montana summer home. Thomas was always there, sitting cross-legged on the boulder behind their joint mailboxes, watching the road for her. Every time, she’d leap from the car, race to him, and embrace him so fiercely that it often turned into a wrestling match on her lawn. The temptation to do that now pulled her smile wide enough to make her cheeks ache.

  Beneath the baggage claim sign, Thomas’s handsome face greeted her. He held a paper in his hands that said Mrs. Justin Timberlake.

  “Nice sign.”

  “I thought you’d like it. I don’t know why you’d want to marry him. Of all the NSYNC guys, Joey was clearly the best.”

  “I know, I know. Now, drop your sign, because I want to hug you, and that sign is in my way.”

  Thomas obeyed, letting the paper drift down to the floor. He opened his arms to her, and she gladly entered them. He smelled so good. Unlike those fancy colognes that Hunter wore, Thomas’s scent was as fresh as a Montana snow. She rested her cheek on top of his shoulder and breathed him in. She longed to kiss his cheek, but this was Thomas, and there was significant freak-out potential with him. And Blue would’ve stood there for all eternity, but once the rest of her flight entered the baggage claim area, Thomas dropped his arms.

  “I’ll get your bag,” Thomas said, as if he were eager to put distance between them.

  * * *

  * * *

  Back in his Bronco, the drive home started off as quiet as the drive to the airport weeks before.

  “I finished the manuscript,” she said. “I don’t want to jinx anything, but I think it’s really good. I had my dad read it. I’m pretty sure I brought a tear to his eye a couple of times. He thought it was a great representation of your life. Although, I do think he’s biased. He and my mom think the world of you. Do you know that?”

  “They don’t mind when Molly comes into their yard to do her business occasionally?”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  He smiled as he stared ahead at the highway. There was an hour on Christmas morning when Blue had wondered if he would still be able to smile when she got back. No doubt, the loss of the driver on Christmas Eve still bothered him, but Blue had always been able to bring a smile to his face even in the hardest of times. It was nice to see she hadn’t lost her touch.

  He explained that their friends were coming over to his house for a New Year’s Eve celebration in a few hours.

  “How can I help? I have some good appetizer recipes,” she said.

  “Shane is cooking up some fancy dinner for us, but appetizers would certainly make the wait until midnight go quicker. Would you need to stop by the store? I’d be happy to go with you. I could even help you make them if you want. You could come straight over to my house, unless you want to go home for a bit.”

  Where had this rambling come from? That was by far the most words she’d ever hear him say.

  Thomas coughed. “I’ll understand if you need to let your parents know you made it. Or that Erik Braun guy.”

  That explained it. “Thomas, nothing happened with Erik and me. He isn’t the kind of guy I want to spend any more time with. I never kissed him. Not that you asked or would even care, but I didn’t kiss him.”

  His knuckles lost their whitish color as he loosened his grip on the steering wheel.

  Blue looked out her window before he caught her blush. They were in for an interesting night.

  * * *

  * * *

  It wasn’t quite eleven thirty yet, and the New Year’s Eve party was dying down. Thomas’s other friends, Drew and Evie Ulrich, and Jessi and Nick Pendleton, had already left a few minutes ago.

  Blue gathered the cups and plates from the family room. There was something about being Thomas’s cohost that warmed her more than a mug of wassail on a snowy night. And the way he looked at her as she joked with his friends? That wasn’t bad, either.

  On Thomas’s couch, Keira slept soundly against Robbie’s chest.

  Robbie kissed her forehead. “Hey, Kat. Let’s get you home to bed.”

  “Are you leaving, too?” Thomas asked.

  “Yeah, I think so. Growing a human tires Keira out. But no worries. I bet Blue will stay with you past midnight.”

  After nearly dropping her armload at the innuendo, Blue hastened to the kitchen. While Robbie and Keira headed out, Blue scraped the remnants of her appetizers off the plates and into the trash. Soon, Ryann joined her in the task.

  “I’ve been holding my tongue all night,” Ryann said. “But I need to ask. What’s going on with you and Erik Braun?”

  “My goodness. I really got people talking, didn’t I? I expected it from the rest of the world, but not from you all.”

  “I think everyone wants to see you get another shot at love. We want the same thing. Just not with a guy like him.”

  “He’s not my type.”

  “Care to share who is?” Ryann’s focus trailed over the island and across the family room, where Thomas spoke with Shane.

  “Shane? No, I don’t like tattoos.”

  Ryann gave Blue’s shoulder a playful push. “You know who I mean. Thomas may not be as charming as Hunter or Erik, but he’s a good guy. Faithful, steady, and reliable. And one day, when he decides to commit to a woman fully, she’ll be the luckiest girl in the world.”

  Blue glanced at Thomas. He looked as uncomfortable as she’d ever seen him while Shane gave him a pep talk of some sort. “I have no doubt, but my focus is on my writing, and in my experience, men and my career don’t mix.”

  “Oh, Blue. We’re coming up to a brand-new year, full of new possibilities. M
aybe you should put your talent to personal use and write a new ending to that same old story.” Ryann switched off the faucet, then left the kitchen. “Shane, we should go.”

  “Already?” Thomas asked.

  “Yeah, we’ve got this thing early,” Shane said.

  “On New Year’s Day?”

  Shane quirked a brow at Thomas.

  “We’d offer to help clean up, but we’re so tired.” Ryann exaggerated a yawn.

  “Go on. Get out of here,” Thomas said.

  As the front door closed, a quiet took over Thomas’s house. A strange sense of home struck Blue while she scrubbed circles on the first dish. Even Thomas’s kitchen felt cozy with the hickory cabinets and dark granite countertops. On the window ledge, a small picture of preschool Thomas and his mother sat in a frame. It was the only picture she’d seen of her in his house. He didn’t talk about her much. Or his father.

  “I can do that.” Thomas reached for the next plate, but Blue moved her hips to block his path. No, Thomas wouldn’t dare invade her personal space. Respectful. Innocent. And certainly not a flirt.

  “I’m perfectly capable of doing dishes.”

  “But I can help.” His annoyance wrinkled his brow.

  Blue ignored him until arms tightened around her rib cage, too quick for her to react. Then she was lifted off her feet and spun away from her task and across the kitchen. Blue pulled at Thomas’s forearms, feigning anger when truly she wanted to relax back against him and soak in his embrace. He set her feet down on the far side of the island, where the kitchen gave way to the family room.

  She swiveled immediately to return to the sink but slammed against his blocking chest. She pushed against him with all her might, but he was steady as a redwood. Blue thumped his pectorals with her fists. “So stubborn.”

  The corners of Thomas’s lips tilted up. “So are you.”

  Molly awoke from her sleep a few yards away, lifting her head and wagging her tail in excitement.

  Blue, careful not to step on her, pushed off of Thomas and raced around the island to the kitchen’s other entry. As the kicker on the football team, she didn’t typically have to scramble. But the fourteen years of soccer before that had taught her how to evade a mark. However, Thomas, her center back, knew how to block. Once again, he stood between her and the sink.

  She ducked, rammed, spun, and juked. Still, she remained on the same one square yard of tile. No forward progress. At least not in distance to the dishes. But Thomas the Serious was laughing. Actually laughing. And the sound might as well have broken into a hundred fireflies that flitted all around her, then settled onto her waist, where his hands held her close to him.

  Around their feet, Molly bounded, barking excitedly. Likely in confusion. Had she ever seen her dad be so playful?

  “Wait,” Blue said. Her torso had paused mid-twist, her upper arm pressed against him. “What were we fighting about again?”

  He stiffened, and his eyes darkened. “We aren’t fighting, are we?”

  His parents. They were still hurting him, all these years later. Pity and anger tore at Blue’s heart. When she turned, her eyes fell on the soaking dishes, awaiting a scrub from the victor of this little game. She placed a soft hand on his cheek. “No. Not real fighting. Just a playful argument over which one of us is going to serve the other. That’s a good thing.”

  He turned his face ever so slightly into her hand as if he relished her affection as much as she liked giving it. He said nothing, but blinked slowly, allowing time for his dark lashes to press a lingering kiss on his high cheekbones before his gaze once again met hers.

  “We’ll finish the dishes together,” she said.

  A few minutes later, Blue placed the clean and dried casserole dish in the cabinet. The muted television caught her eye. At the bottom of the screen, a box showed 11:57 p.m. “Thomas, it’s almost midnight.”

  He brushed past her, slinging a dish towel up over his shoulder in what was probably the manliest move she’d ever seen. She scratched a mental note to add that bit of blocking into her screenplay during revisions. The viewers would swoon.

  Thomas unmuted the television. The show’s host, Taylor Grand, rambled about the massive crowd that turned out to welcome the new year in New York City. He was a nice guy—a friend of Hunter’s from their early days on the soap opera circuit. Taylor had since moved on to hosting a daytime talk show, awards shows, and events like this. Of all the folks she’d met in her career, he was one of the most likable and most genuine. And when Blue had become invisible, he’d still seen her.

  Blue stood by Thomas near the couch, keeping a slight space between them. A sidelong glance caught Thomas staring at her before yanking his eyes away and wiping his brow. He twisted back and tossed his remote on the couch. When he faced the television, he shifted his feet closer to hers until he stood slightly behind her shoulder.

  It only took a small rock back on her heels, and the heat of his body burned through her sweater. She pinned her eyes on the television and willed her lungs to maintain a steady rhythm. Not the stilted pattern of breaths she was currently experiencing. And apparently, those fireflies had found their way inside her stomach and were having a New Year’s celebration of their own.

  “About ninety seconds now until we see the new year light up,” Taylor said into his microphone, while throngs of young people in silly hats and glasses waved at the camera. “Make sure you’ve got someone close to share that time-honored New Year’s kiss with. Whatever guy or gal you choose is the one you hope to spend the next year beside. Choose wisely.”

  Blue scoffed. “Such a dumb tradition, isn’t it? The New Year’s kiss? Everyone acts like it’s this big deal, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

  The big glowing ball began its slow descent down the spire as the seconds ticked down on the bottom of the screen.

  “Have you ever done it?” she asked, unable to look his way.

  “The kiss at midnight? No. The one time I had a girlfriend this time of year, she had gone on a cruise with friends.”

  “Hallie?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’ve had a lot of New Year’s kisses, and look at me now. Single as they come. So like I said, it doesn’t mean anything at all.”

  The crowd grew louder for the final countdown.

  Ten, nine, eight . . .

  Thomas shifted his weight, until he was beside her.

  Seven, six, five . . .

  Blue rolled toward him a tad.

  Four, three, two . . .

  His hand rested on the small of her back, releasing Blue’s breath sharply.

  One.

  The crowd on the television erupted with cheers as the numerals of the new year brightened the sky above Times Square even more than usual.

  The on-screen couples went in for their kisses. Some were quick pecks on the lips, while others lasted, surely full of promises to each other. How many would be kept, and how many would be broken? No, these kisses meant nothing.

  “Happy New Year, Cecelia Blue.” His low words rumbled through her.

  She turned to face him and lifted her gaze to his. The same look she’d once seen, years before at prom, shone now. She’d mistaken that as longing once. Was she mistaken now, too? “Happy New Year, Thomas.”

  They remained so still that Blue might’ve guessed time had stopped if it weren’t for the way his shoulders fell deeply with each exhale before rising again.

  There was no inching forward on his part. No smirk preempting a dive in. No. He was frozen. What looked like longing now transitioned to fear. Even if he wanted to, he was incapable of kissing her. But she’d kissed him without his permission once before and that didn’t go well. Of course, he’d thought she was a frog.

  Still, he hadn’t backed away, and his hand remained glued to her back. This was an awful idea. In her life,
kisses always led to heartbreak and broken dreams. Yet when his focus slid to her lips, her desire to seal this moment clambered over both wisdom and insecurities.

  She lunged forward, touching her lips to his. But his lips were rigid and rather unkissable. Even as she maintained the kiss, her mistake prickled her skin and prepared a troop of tears for her eyes to deploy. Just because she was used to humiliation didn’t make her good at handling it.

  But then something happened. His lips softened, tailoring themselves perfectly to hers. Their warmth streamed inside her like the creek that spilled down the mountain and tumbled over rocks to form Glory Falls every summer.

  Awareness hummed in every part of her that touched him. The arch of her foot that rested against his toes. Her knee that skimmed his. And where his fingertips pressed, holding her gently against him. Yes, he was kissing her back. Respectfully. Innocently. But he was definitely kissing her back. He wasn’t sitting back in the audience, enjoying the show. And he also wasn’t as grossed out as he once was, considering how he leaned into the kiss.

  Then, it was over. He pulled away, turning his head, which was good, because the fierce heat that rose to Blue’s face had likely changed her blue eyes to purple.

  There goes the night. Thomas would spend the rest of the evening overthinking and underspeaking, leaving Blue to guess what level of regret he was experiencing.

  Thomas’s shoulders shook. He was . . . laughing again. Not a small giggle, but a full-out boisterous laugh.

  “What on earth is so funny?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking about how much better of a kisser you’ve become since we were eleven.”

  Blue’s jaw dropped, and her entire body seemed to go numb. “You knew?”

  Thomas cocked his head her way. “That I kissed you, not a frog? Yeah, I knew.”

  “But you were so mean about it. You were spitting like I was the most disgusting thing ever.”

  He threw his hands out to the side. “Okay, to be fair, I did think I’d kissed a frog that night. But years later when I kissed Jennifer Song, I realized what it felt like to kiss a girl.”