Finding Glory

by Sara Arden

  “Old-school?” she asked.

  “I do things traditionally,” he answered.

  Gina arched a brow. “We’re fine, Sheriff. And you?”

  “Good, good. Just enjoying the day.” His handsome features were cut in a severe mask that made it look as though he was doing anything but enjoying the day.

  It made Gina wonder if he was checking on all the park’s patrons, or just Reed. Everyone in town knew who he was, knew where he’d come from and where he was now. Was this the sheriff trying to warn him off? Telling him that he didn’t give a damn what he’d done with his life because he was still scum and Wilson would be waiting for him to trip up? That was what it felt like.

  Or was she just defensive? Gina was willing to admit that. It went back to feeling inferior and nothing made Gina angrier.

  He gave them the hard, thousand-yard stare for another few minutes before moving on.

  Gina was about to speak when a wave of purple skirt filled her vision. “Hey, Gina.”

  It was Betsy McConnell, the owner of Sweet Thing bakery, bearing gifts. “I heard you really liked the Better Than...” She looked down at Amanda Jane’s smiling face. “Maple bacon,” she corrected. “So, I brought you some donuts.”

  “May I?” Amanda Jane fidgeted to keep from reaching for the sweet.

  Gina nodded. “Thank you. But, the way you give things away, how do you ever expect to stay open?” Betsy was known to be extra generous with her bounty.

  “Well, they’re from Jack, actually. Joe was in one of the support groups that Jack goes to. They were friends, after a fashion.”

  Gina didn’t know who she meant and gave her a blank look.

  “The guy you helped not too long ago.”

  The patient who’d had a massive case of PTSD and had an attack. “Oh.”

  “His mother came to the last meeting to tell them what happened and she mentioned you and how kind you were. It really stood out for her and Jack. And the part where you saved his life.”

  “Everyone deserves empathy.”

  Betsy smiled. “I know that. You know that. But it’s different for these guys. And he was touched. Usually, I have to sneak the maple-bacon anything out of the shop. He likes to keep all those for himself. So, you should feel special.”

  “Thank you.” This was why she wanted to be a doctor. It was true that she wanted to save lives, but she wanted to touch them, too. She wanted to make a difference.

  “I’ll let you guys enjoy the rest of the day. You better guard those closely.” She nodded to the donuts. “If you see India George, she will cut you for a donut.”

  Gina laughed. “Oh, I think they’ll all be gone before she can find us.”

  “Come by the shop when you have a chance. I have leftover frosted frogs in the freezer.” She winked at Amanda Jane and headed back up the path where it diverged from Main Street.

  Reed crammed one in his mouth. “Well, this has been interesting to say the least,” he said after he finished the massive bite.

  “You’re never going to keep those abs if you keep eating like that.”

  “I’ll worry about it when I’m thirty. Life is to be lived and food is to be tasted, right?”

  Amanda Jane nodded and grabbed another one.

  “Oh, no. Last one. Make it count,” Gina told her.

  “Food is to be tasted. I’m tasting it. A lot.” Amanda Jane grinned.

  “Your dad can put whatever he wants in his mouth, but you, my darling girl, need to pace yourself.”

  “I know, Gina-bee. Just this one more.” She licked her fingers.

  She tried not to think about the fact that she’d been picking up sticks and rocks and...Gina leaned back in the grass again.

  “I kind of like this grass-angel thing,” Gina said.

  “Me, too.”

  “Thanks for taking a day off.”

  “I work when I need to. I didn’t come through all of this to not live the life I fought for, you know?”

  “Yeah, I think I’m just learning that. When I woke up this morning, it was so weird not to have anywhere to be. I felt out of place.”

  “I think a donut will make it feel all better.”

  “Is that your official course of treatment?” Gina teased him.

  “You’re going to be the doctor, you tell me.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Fine. Then, as a risk/reward scenario, invest in the donut. It will pay out in bliss.”

  She laughed and he pushed a donut toward her. Gina struggled and turned her head, trying to get away from him, but the moment the sweet bread touched her lips, she opened for him.

  His fingers grazed her lips as he pushed the bite inside and Gina nipped at his fingertips before she could think better of it.

  The intensity on his face was suddenly dark and heavy, and it made her squirm. She didn’t want to feel this way, but she didn’t want to fight it anymore, either.

  If she could just let go, maybe this happiness, it would stay. For all of them.

  After the donuts had been ravaged, and Amanda Jane took their trash to the bin, Gina saw a look on her face that cut her to the core.

  She was crying.

  Gina rushed to her and guided her back to the blanket. “What’s wrong, honey? Did you hurt yourself?”

  Reed reached out for her and she wound her small arms around his neck.

  Gina watched as Reed’s expression melted through a series of emotions. Concern, sadness and then something else she couldn’t name. He closed his eyes and rocked the girl in his lap.

  She leaned in and rubbed her hand down Amanda Jane’s back in a soothing motion.

  “I just don’t want this to end. This is perfect. Please don’t go away.”

  Her words cut Gina more deeply than her tears had.

  They couldn’t afford to screw this up.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Reed swore.

  “Do you promise?”

  “To the moon and stars, kiddo.”

  Gina just hoped he would keep it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  GINA WAS RELIEVED when things fell into a routine.

  When Reed came home, everyone made dinner together. He had a personal chef in the city, but the very idea made Gina uncomfortable. In the beginning, she’d starting preparing meals, easily falling into the caregiver role. But Reed liked helping and so did Amanda Jane. It had become one of their family rituals. Gina liked it because there was no pressure. They’d tried a few new things and when it didn’t work out, it wasn’t a big deal. They’d throw it out and order takeout.

  Their rituals, just like their definition of family, were all their own.

  And as before, nothing else had been said about the spark between them. Amanda Jane’s fears about losing them, losing this new dynamic that had blossomed between all of them, trumped whatever she and Reed might want personally. That was something that didn’t even have to be discussed.

  She wondered if it was the universe trying to tell her that they didn’t belong together. It seemed as if every time something happened between them, Gina was reminded why it shouldn’t.

  But that didn’t stop her from daydreaming about him just as she had when she was a stupid teenager.

  Now, her daydreams were twelve years into the future with Amanda Jane off to college and then whatever happened between them could sink or swim and it wouldn’t affect her development and sense of stability.

  The thought of never being touched or loved by a man until then was hollow and cold, but thinking of letting any man but Reed touch her was worse.

  She was a wreck in her head, but on the outside, she’d managed to keep it together.

  At least until Missy wanted to take Amanda Jane for the nig
ht to give them a break.

  Gina didn’t need a break. She didn’t want to be alone in the house with Reed because she knew exactly where her mind would go and her flesh would follow. She’d end up in his bed—and she was afraid of it, not just because of what it could mean for the future, but what it meant in the now.

  Reed found her in the downstairs living room after Missy had picked up Amanda Jane. “Hey, so we’re free tonight. I think we’re supposed to be excited about it and go see an R-rated movie or something.”

  She grinned. “I kind of liked watching cartoons.”

  “Me, too.”

  “This is still pretty weird,” she blurted.

  “Yeah, for me, too.” He nodded. “It’s almost like Mom’s gone so we should get in trouble or something. But I don’t need any trouble.”

  “Me, either,” she agreed, but wondered if they were talking about the pretend scenario with the cat away and the mice will play, or something deeper.

  “So we’ve agreed not to get in trouble. How about dinner and some TV?”

  “Yeah, I think we can swing that. Maybe we could get a little wild and order Chinese?”

  “We’re partying hard there.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a grin. “You know, that’s really all I wanted when I was a kid.”

  “Right now? Today?” She nodded. “Yeah. It’s hard to believe that something like this is what we dreamed of. Most kids have way cooler dreams than that. Even Amanda Jane wanted a pony.”

  “I really think we should revisit that.”

  “A pony? Are you kidding me?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  “You’ve been set on this since day one. Did you want a pony?” she teased.

  “No, but you did.”

  “Of course I did. All little girls want a horse or a pony. I think it’s hardwired into the gender.” She laughed.

  “And we can give that to her. It may be extravagant for other people, but it’s not for us. It would teach her responsibility if she had to care for it herself, clean its stall, put out hay. Lessons would be something that would get her involved with other kids and when she’s a teenager, she’ll be more interested in animals than boys. Where’s the downside?”

  “I don’t know. It just seems...like you said, extravagant. But I guess it’s really not when you say it like that. I can’t help but think of Nora Rochette, remember her? She always wore designer clothes, fake-baked and was always going on and on about her stupid horse.”

  “Nora Rochette wouldn’t have given me the time of day, not even to tell me to eat shit and die, back then.”

  “She only talked to me because I was on her SAT/ACT study team. I think she married some congressman.”

  “Better him than me.” Reed shuddered.

  “So did I just agree to a pony?”

  “Sort of. But you for sure agreed to takeout and a movie. Or maybe a few episodes of a new series.”

  “A series? That’s practically a relationship. I mean, we’d be committed to the whole thing once we start,” she teased, and realized she meant more than just watching television.

  “Kind of like where we’re at now, huh?”

  He was right. “I guess so. Only if we don’t finish a series, it’s not a matter of life and death.”

  “I think it depends on the fandom, my dear.”

  She laughed again. That’s what she liked best about this version of Reed. He made her laugh all the time. “Okay. Let me get into something more comfortable.” Gina waggled her eyebrows, teasing him.

  “I’m pretty sure that your idea of something more comfortable and mine are vastly different animals.”

  What she liked best about this banter was that even though there’d been some seriously hot tension between them, this was all in good fun and there was no pressure here. It was as if they were just Reed and Gina, pals, the way it used to be.

  “See, we get left alone and we get in trouble.” He shrugged as if he just couldn’t help himself.

  “You mean like this?” She poked him in the side.

  “Oh, really?” He grabbed her, but he didn’t tickle her. Instead, he froze and they were trapped in the moment.

  That easy banter disappeared and she’d been wrong for ever thinking they could be just Reed and Gina. Just pals. Because she would always want more from him.

  She lifted her lashes and stared into the pools of his eyes. Gina wanted to drown in them, drown in him. She imagined it would be like submerging herself in water, that cool embrace as she was rocked gently down to the bottom. The insulation from the world above where every sound, every sight, every sensation was dulled by the bliss of the deep.

  His arms came around her and it was anything but cool and peaceful. He was so strong, so warm and vital, that she melted and burned, her insides languid. But her emotions were a roiling volcano and her pain, her need, it was all hot lava.

  For the first time, Gina didn’t feel that she had to do everything on her own. She didn’t have to stand tall and hard against the world, she could lean just a little bit.

  Guilt surged for liking the way his hands felt on her, the masculine scent of his expensive aftershave and the illusion of safety in his arms. She’d never had this before and she wanted it.

  Gina wanted it more than easing the guilt she had about Crys, more than she wanted to guard her heart against Reed and the inevitable shattering of the thing—more than anything she wanted this moment between them to last forever.

  Although she knew nothing could last forever. Not the sating of flesh, or daydreams made real, or the solid, concrete support he offered. It was all a moment’s blush, and like any exotic bloom, would wither and die.

  Cold guilt made another splash down her back.

  “It’s okay, Gina. Everything that you’re feeling is okay.”

  “You don’t know what I’m feeling. How can you tell me it’s okay?” She pulled back and looked up at him, their lips only a breath apart.

  “You’re feeling relief, sorrow, guilt...”

  His voice seemed to touch each emotion, causing it to ring through her like a bell. But he didn’t come close to the one feeling that elicited the most guilt and shame—the need for his hands on her body, the way she was tempted to close that space between them and taste his lips again, the way she just wanted to drown in him and forget everything.

  Because part of living was experiencing life and she wanted to experience Reed Hollingsworth to the fullest. He was something she’d always wanted and the thought of being so close, but never really knowing him, touching him, she didn’t want that regret.

  When it was her turn to face the long dark, she didn’t want to be thinking about all the things she wanted to do, all the experiences she wanted to have and find she’d missed them all.

  But every time she thought she could turn her face that fraction of an inch, she thought about Crys again. It was a poignant image that she had of her sister, if not a bit melodramatic: her hair spread about behind her like a halo...

  Yet, that image made her sister into someone she wasn’t. Being close to death didn’t absolve all of her sins as much as anyone might wish it would. While it wasn’t Gina’s place to judge her, that little voice in her head told her—no, screamed at her to reach out and grab at life with both hands because this tableau could easily be herself.

  All manner of situations, fractions of a second, those things could easily change her very ordered life to one of chaos and loss. She couldn’t control everything, so why not surrender? Why not just once reach out and grab hold of something dangerous just because she wanted it?

  “Gina,” he said again, but this time, it was most definitely a plea.

  A plea for what, she didn’t know. A plea for her to stop, or a plea for more? She’d tangled her arms around hi
s neck, and climbed into his lap like she had before—when they’d kissed.

  She’d been so lost in “should” and “could” that her body had made the choice for her and she wasn’t inclined to argue. Not now, when she felt so lost in the dark. His touch was a candle, a guide home.

  “Please don’t tell me no.”

  “You’re vulnerable. I don’t want to be what you regret.” He whispered against her mouth, his breath ghosting across her lips in the mockery of a kiss.

  “I am vulnerable, Reed. I’m so alone. I always have been. And I’m tired of being someone—something—apart from the rest of the world. Give me this.” She brushed her lips across the blade of his cheek. “Give me you.”

  His hand fisted in her hair and he tugged her back so that she was forced to look into his eyes. She would’ve fought, she didn’t want to have to look at him if he was still going to tell her no.

  “You’ve always had me, Gina. You don’t have to do this to keep me. I’m not going to leave you, and I’m not going to fail you. I swear.”

  The intensity of his words made his declaration something more than he meant it to be. She knew he tried to reassure her, to wind down whatever had sprung so tight and ready inside of her. But it only wound her tighter, amped her need.

  “When you look at me like that, Gina, I want to give you everything. Even when I know what you want isn’t what you need.” His voice was low, like the crunch of gravel.

  His lips were so close, so perfect, and they were what was going to save her.

  “I can decide what I need.”

  He tilted his face up a fraction of an inch, just enough so that their lips barely touched. “What about what I need?”

  “What do you need?” Electric jolts shuddered under her skin at the contact, insides alight.

  “To know I won’t be a mistake. That you want more from me than this moment.”

  It would be so easy to tell him that she wanted forever, but did she? No, she wanted right now and she didn’t want to think about forever. Forever was terrifying, forever was a chain around her neck.

  “I need you.” She didn’t make him any promises, she couldn’t.