The Art Of Falling

by Julie Jarnagin

  Nana squeezed the little dog. “It’s settled then.”

  When Heather returned, she kissed Nana on both cheeks. “Goodnight. Please don’t let Penelope chew up any of my shoes.”

  Nana followed them out the front door. “You two have fun,” she called out. “I’m going to stay here and watch The Bachelorette. She’s down to the stockbroker and the firefighter.”

  From the porch, Nana waved the little dog’s paw at them.

  He opened the passenger door for Heather, feeling like he’d just survived an ambush. “Your Nana seems sweet.”

  Heather smiled up at him, and he forgot all about Nana’s sneak attack. “I adore her, but I don’t know if sweet is the word. She’s more like an ornery teenager.”

  #

  In the dim lobby of the restaurant where she had spent many family dinners, Heather bit the inside of her lip. Nana suggesting The Brass Steakhouse to Wyatt left Heather uncomfortable. Nana had a talent for stirring up trouble, and Heather didn’t want to scare Wyatt away.

  Wyatt escorted her to the maitre d’. “Reservation for two. Maybe under Tornsten.”

  Being on his arm felt exciting and new, but the things that intrigued her were the same ones that made her nervous, like his dangerous career and how different they were from one another. Tonight, she would focus on staying in the moment and enjoy being near Wyatt…and far away from his horses.

  The host looked up from his book behind the brass lamp. “Here it is. Tornsten for four.”

  Nana.

  Wyatt scrunched up his face. “Four?”

  “Sweetie,” her father’s voice said behind her. “What are you doing here?”

  She turned to find her parents, who’d just stepped in the door.

  Her mother frowned. “You didn’t tell us you were going out tonight.”

  Inside, she groaned. Even though Heather had been on her own for years, her mom thought she deserved to know every move Heather made. “Nana knew, and she usually tells everyone so I assumed…”

  After a quick introduction, she turned to her father before he would have a chance to grill Wyatt. “What are you doing here?”

  Her father removed his tortoise shell glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Mother called to tell us she’d made us a reservation—an early anniversary gift.”

  Her mom shook her head. “Dear, I think your mother hijacked Heather’s date.”

  Heather rubbed her hand over her eyes. She could have died of humiliation right then and there.

  Before Heather could suggest that she and Wyatt go to another restaurant, her mother turned to him. “Where did you and Heather meet?”

  “The museum. I’m going to emcee the Spring Gala.”

  “Lovely,” she said. “That’s coming up in a few weeks, isn’t it? Are you a patron of the arts?”

  He chuckled. “Not exactly. I’m a professional bull rider. Apparently, I fit the theme.”

  Her mother’s mouth parted. “Oh. A bull rider,” she said, her voice stilted. “Did you hear that, Gordon? He’s a bull rider.” She might have sounded happier if he’d told her he robbed banks for a living.

  Ever since Craig’s accident, her mother considered any type of risk taking as some kind of personal insult. Like it meant they didn’t care what had happened to her son.

  Wyatt stood silent, rigid beside her.

  Heather turned back to the maitre d’ before things could get any worse. “Can you please change our reservation to two separate tables?”

  The man shook his head. “I’m very sorry, miss. We’re all booked for the evening.”

  Her father pulled out his wallet. “Please double check and see what you can do.”

  She stood mortified as her father handed the man a large bill.

  Wyatt gave her a sidelong glance but didn’t speak.

  When they were finally sitting at a table for two, Heather put her hands on her cheeks and shook her head. “I’m really, really sorry.”

  Wyatt gave her a sympathetic smile. “It’s fine,” he said, but his short tone told her he was only trying to make her feel better. “I’m surprised you didn’t want your family to eat with us.”

  She shook her head. “Are you kidding? I wanted to enjoy our night. They can be a little…intense.”

  He took her hands. “You met my mom. Every family has its quirks.”

  “Yes, but ours has a major quirk, and we call her Nana. Let’s talk about something else.” She squeezed his hands. “Anything else.”

  “Okay.” He looked around. “Why don’t you tell me what makes this your favorite restaurant?”

  He probably wondered why someone would love this snooty place with its pretentious staff and fancy decor. The food was delicious, but not the best in Dallas. “Technically, this isn’t my favorite. It’s Nana’s, so she assumes everyone else loves it too. But they do have a good salmon dish.”

  The small scar above his eye wrinkled when he smiled. “I bet she was a hoot when you were growing up.”

  “You have no idea.” Heather probably should have given him a little more of a warning about Nana. With plenty of money and not much tact, she was somewhat notorious in the city. A regular in the lifestyle pages of the newspaper, she ran in the wealthy social circles of Dallas, splitting her time between the country club and over-the-top fundraisers.

  Nana had insisted Heather come out as a debutante when she was eighteen, throwing a huge party the week of the ball. Before Wyatt could ever see the inside of her house, Heather would need to hide the photo of her in a huge white dress and even bigger hair.

  She sighed. The woman wasn’t even here, and she was taking over her date. “What do you do in your off time?” she asked, pretty sure it didn’t include country clubs and debutante balls.

  “I coach and mentor some young riders. I also help out with one of the local college rodeo teams.”

  She leaned forward in her seat. “That’s great.”

  “I wish I had more time for it, but between events and the work I do for my corporate sponsors, I stay pretty busy.”

  “Do you ever think about retiring?”

  She thought she saw him flinch. “I try not to. Every rider who starts thinking like that is out of the game pretty soon, either because of injury or because they fall in the rankings.”

  Injuries. The thought of Wyatt getting stomped on by one of those beasts terrified her. “Seems like that would be a good reason to get out of the sport.”

  “I know it probably sounds crazy, but riding has always made me feel alive. For those eight seconds, I feel like anything’s possible.”

  It did sound crazy. Fear had the opposite effect on her—it paralyzed her. “Isn’t there anything else that gives you that same thrill?”

  He cocked his head. “Other than being here with you?”

  #

  Once they’d made it back through what felt like the Secret Service security, Wyatt parked in front of Heather’s townhouse. When they’d left the restaurant, he’d overheard her father talking to someone on his cell phone about contract dates and clauses, while her mother reminded Heather to lock her deadbolt and call when she got home. She’d given Wyatt a cool goodbye.

  He certainly didn’t fit into Heather’s world of fancy restaurants and town homes with full-time security. But right here beside her, he could forget about their differences.

  She fidgeted with the purse in her lap. “Thanks again for being a good sport about all this. It probably wasn’t how you envisioned tonight going.”

  He’d had plenty of bad first dates, but this hadn’t been one of them. He settled his hand over both of hers on the purse strap, wanting to ease her mind. “It went even better than I expected.”

  She gave a half snort and half laugh. “You’re trying to make me feel better. I had a great time, too, but my Nana taking over wasn’t my best moment.”

  “I was with you, so none of that really mattered.” It was the kind of corny thing the guys on the circuit would have a fi
eld day with, but it didn’t matter. Heather was amazing, and she deserved to know it. He stepped out of the truck and went around to open her door. When she stood, he asked, “Does that kind of thing happen a lot?”

  “Nana inserting herself into my life? Unfortunately, yes.”

  They walked together to the front door, his hand at her lower back as he guided her up the path. “And she’s always been like that?”

  Heather shrugged. “It got worse after my grandfather passed away. They were really in love. She says she knew she was going to marry him from the first time she saw him in the school hallway.”

  “That’s romantic.”

  “I’m not sure he felt the same initially.” Her head tilted to one side, and she got a far-off look in her eyes. “In classic Nana fashion, she wore him down.”

  The first time Wyatt saw Heather that day in the museum, it seemed his heart had recognized the importance of that moment before he did. He’d tried to brush off the feelings, but every day he spent with her only confirmed them.

  They stopped on her front stoop. He didn’t want to go. Not yet. “What about you? Do you believe in that stuff? In love at first sight?”

  Her mouth parted slightly, and the rise and fall of her breath stopped for a moment. “Sure,” she finally said. “‘Anything’s possible. You?”

  He wasn’t ready to give away his hand, so he settled for, “Me, too.”

  His mind spun. He had so many plans for his future. He was supposed to focus on becoming a world champion. Instead his mom had gotten sick, and he’d somehow ended up here with Heather. The woman who caught his eye in the museum, who took his mom food, who was close to her family, who was so different from him. Here she stood, right in front of him, seeming too good to be true.

  She glanced down, suddenly shy, and pulled her keys from her purse. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”

  What could he say? Surely she’d deem him out of his mind if she knew what was really going through his head. He leaned forward. “Just thinking how I didn’t see you coming.”

  She looked up, edging closer. “I’m not sure what that even means.”

  He took both of her hands in his and squeezed. “It means I’m glad I met you.”

  Her gaze locked onto his. “Me, too.”

  Near enough to smell the raspberry chocolate dessert he’d insisted she order, he leaned down and did exactly what he’d wanted to from the first second he saw her. He pressed his lips to hers, and it felt right—more so than he could have imagined.

  She returned his kiss, sinking into his arms like she belonged there.

  A high-pitched bark came from the other side of the door, startling them both.

  Heather pulled back from him and gave an exasperated sigh. She unlocked the door and swung it open to reveal Nana standing in the entry, trying to shush her dog.

  “Nana! What are you still doing here?”

  “Don’t mind me, dear,” she said, closing the door. “Carry on.”

  Heather ducked her face down, and they both broke into laughter as she leaned her head into his chest.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, Heather walked into her office, still reeling from her date. There was something in Wyatt’s kiss, a spark, that she’d never felt before. They had so many differences, but together things felt right.

  Her mother had cornered her in the bathroom at the restaurant to interrogate her about Wyatt. “He may be cute, Heather, but a bull rider? Really?”

  She couldn’t be angry with Mom, though. She was trying to protect Heather from what they’d endured with her brother’s death. And in a way, Mom was right. Heather might not be able to survive the endless worry they’d faced every time Craig got another crazy idea. Or, heaven forbid, another tragic loss.

  The stack of RSVP cards on her desk reminded her of all the details to be finalized for the fundraiser. She had less than three weeks until the big day. Today she needed to double check the guest list, call Paige to get updates on the catering and decor, and schedule the videographer to meet her at Wyatt’s house.

  Jolted by her ringing phone, she put a hand over her chest. Mom glowed on the screen.

  Heather had been expecting the call all morning. Last night, she’d texted, “Made it home. Headed to bed,” and turned her phone to silent so she didn’t have to answer all her mom’s questions. Dealing with Nana had been enough for one night. Wyatt had been a trooper, but she figured the novelty of her wacky family would wear off after a while. She loved them, but some days they exhausted her. “Hi, Mom.”

  “I wanted to hear more about this boy you’re dating.”

  Heather stood and headed for the break room. She needed coffee—strong coffee—for this conversation. “I have a lot of work to do today. I’m going to have to call you some other time to talk about this.”

  “Are you planning to see him again?”

  She found her favorite mug in the cabinet. “Of course. We’ll be working together on the fundraiser, remember?”

  “Darling, this isn’t serious, is it?”

  Serious? Balancing the phone between her ear and elbow, she took the pot and poured the coffee to the top of her cup. “We’ve only been on one date.” But last night, she’d felt herself falling for him—fast. She started to reach for the creamer but stopped. Today called for black coffee. “All I know is that I like him, and we’re having fun.” And that he was a great kisser.

  Her mom sighed. “I just don’t know if he’s the man I envision you with long term. Please be careful, honey.”

  Isn’t that what she’d spent her whole life doing? Being careful? Some days, she wanted to throw caution aside and make decisions without considering the worst-case scenario. “Trust me, Mom. I know what I’m doing.” But did she? “I really have to get back to work.”

  After Heather hung up and made it to her office, she sank into her desk chair. Wyatt wasn’t the man she’d envisioned, either, but the more she got to know him, the more she discovered his faith and his heart were stronger than anyone’s she’d ever met. If only it were that simple. If only he had a normal career or she was as brave and strong as he was.

  She needed to focus on work. She’d be introducing Wyatt at the gala, and she couldn’t base the speech to the museum patrons on his dimples or the way he looked at her. On her computer, she typed his name into the search engine. Surely he had a bio on the bull riding association page. Scanning down the list of results, her attention landed on a thumbnail of a video. The title said “Solid Ride by Wyatt Lawrence.”

  Unable to resist, she clicked on it.

  Sitting on the back of a bull that was still in the chute, Wyatt wore a black cowboy hat and a vest. She couldn’t see his face but easily recognized the confident way he carried his shoulders.

  Nerves fluttered in her stomach. Maybe she shouldn’t watch this, but her attention stayed glued to the screen.

  Wyatt adjusted and readjusted his hand. Cowboys stood over him, looking down from the metal fence where they were perched.

  The announcers praised Wyatt’s work ethic and his riding style and called him a star in the sport. He was so down-to-earth, she often forgot that he was famous among bull riding fans.

  The gate flew open, and the huge bull shot out like a rocket.

  The feeling in her stomach changed from a flutter to churning, and her hand covered her mouth as the bull jerked and kicked and spun violently. For eight painful seconds, her heart thudded in her throat as she watched Wyatt on the edge of being thrown to the ground and stomped by the enormous animal.

  Just as the buzzer went off and the crowd cheered, the bull tossed Wyatt from its back, and he hit the ground hard. She flinched as if she’d been the one who’d just been slammed down.

  One of the bull’s hooves came down a few feet from his spine, and panic coursed through her.

  Two men swooped in, grabbed Wyatt, and helped him to his feet. They hurried him to the side of the arena.

  She leaned back in her
chair, reminding herself he was fine and trying to catch her breath. Seeing him thrown off the horse the other day was nothing compared to this.

  The crowd and the announcers didn’t seem fazed and went on cheering him on the great ride. Watching a man get thrown from a bull and almost get trampled—eight seconds or not—was not entertainment. It was terrifying.

  A new video titled “Near Miss by Wyatt Lawrence” appeared on the page. Her fingers fumbled to click it away, unable to endure another one.

  Like her mom had told her, she needed to proceed with caution. This romance with Wyatt felt reckless and…wonderful. If she forgot about being careful and followed her heart, she feared she’d be the one who’d end up trampled.

  #

  A week later, Wyatt heard Heather’s car come up the drive for the video shoot. Between her work schedule and his mom’s doctor’s appointments, he and Heather hadn’t been able to see each other since their date. Every time he’d called her, she’d seemed distant. At least he’d finally get to see her face-to-face.

  Wyatt had spent the morning by his mom’s side. The doctors had told her the chemo would make her sick, but neither of them had been prepared for how quickly or dramatically it would affect her.

  He’d done what he could, bringing her water, getting her settled at home, and doing his best to care for her, but he still felt powerless—a feeling that brought back too many memories. No woman who’d had to endure what his father put her through deserved this.

  When his aunt had arrived, he hadn’t wanted to leave his mother’s side, but his mom knew he was meeting Heather and insisted. Maybe seeing Heather today would help him chase away some of the shadows.

  He stepped out the front door and forced a smile. It became real when he saw Heather headed toward him. She was alone. Maybe the video guy was arriving separately.