by J. H. Croix
As I stood, so did she. Hell. Oh well, she was my neighbor now, so she might as well get used to seeing me. I didn’t know when the time would be right, but I intended to explain just what the hell happened that summer.
Her eyes flashed the moment she saw me, and her lips tightened in a thin line. That was a shame. Because Grace had the sexiest damn mouth I’d ever seen. Her lips were full, plump cushions perfect for kissing with a little dip on the top one that created a perfect bow shape.
“Hey, Grace.”
“Hey, Boone,” she replied, looping her purse over her shoulder and holding it tight against her hip. “What are you doing here?” She began walking swiftly across the reception area.
I followed right along. “Annual physical. You?”
“Same,” she said. Every word that came out of her mouth was clipped.
I held the door open when we reached it, savoring the crisp, citrusy scent of her hair as she passed by me. She was too damn polite to tell me to fuck off like I knew she wanted to.
I came to an abrupt conclusion. I’d given Grace plenty of space since I moved back. Although I surmised she had come up with her own version of events about what went down, it was clear giving her space wasn’t going to solve any of this.
Once we were outside, I was pretty sure she intended to walk away without saying goodbye. Fat chance of that as far as I was concerned. As fast as Grace could walk, my legs were a hell of a lot longer than hers. Following her straight to her car, I stopped beside her, resting a hand on the hood.
“All right, Grace, you can tell me to fuck off. You can tell me to go to hell, but I’m not going anywhere. For God’s sake, just talk to me.”
She had her keys in hand when her eyes whipped up to mine. A soft breeze gusted across the parking lot, lifting her hair and spinning it in a little swirl around her shoulders. I saw the slight shiver run through her and had to physically resist the urge to pull her close.
I had epically fucked up, but not the way Grace thought. I just wanted a chance to make it right.
“Well, I’m standing here talking to you, aren’t I?” she countered, her tone just this side of biting.
Although there were plenty of things I wanted to discuss with Grace, namely and most particularly to clear up what I presumed was a massive misunderstanding about that summer, entirely brought on by me. I’d panicked and relied on avoidance as a way to deal with the panic. I’d hurt us both badly in the process.
Foremost in my mind though, was why the hell Grace had another doctor’s appointment in two weeks?
“I’m just gonna get right to it, what’s up? Why do you have another appointment in two weeks? And why have I heard Shay and Evie mentioning they’re worried about your headaches when you call out from work?”
Bright red flagged on Grace’s cheeks, followed quickly by her skin paling. I saw her fingers tighten on her keys. Her eyes searched mine for a moment before she looked away toward the mountains.
I gave her a moment because I knew I was pushing my limits here as it was. I allowed myself to absorb the sight of her—the clean, almost sharp lines of her profile. I’d always loved the contrast of Grace. She came across as so buttoned up and uptight, yet when she let her guard down, she was big-hearted and sweet—a juxtaposition of her sharp qualities. She was also feisty as hell. She’d always been the kind of friend who stood up for anyone she cared about.
She turned back to me, and I didn’t even bother hiding that I’d been staring at her. The moment I looked into her eyes, I stepped closer. “What is it?”
She swallowed, the tension in her face easing slightly. I could practically see the instant the wheels turned in her brain, and she decided she was going to tell me something.
“I’ve been getting these migraines. They come and go, and I blew it off, well, for too long.” Pausing, she let out a sharp laugh. “Anyway, I finally came in a few weeks ago. They set up this appointment for some tests, and now they set up another appointment.”
“Do they know what the hell’s going on?” I asked, suddenly wanting to storm back into that doctor’s office and demand answers.
She lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “Um, not really. I guess they want me back for more testing to rule out a seizure disorder.”
“Have you ever had a seizure?” I asked, unconsciously stepping closer and catching her hand in mine. I didn’t even realize I’d done that until she let go of the death grip on her purse and curled her hand into mine. It was ice cold.
“Grace, you’re freezing. Get in the car,” I said, turning to reach for the driver’s side door.
Her lips kicked up at one corner, her eyes glinting. “You’re the one who’s got me out here talking. It’s not that warm yet, you know. Plus, that office is freezing.”
Just then, as bad luck would have it, the emergency ring sounded on my phone.
I looked up about to tell her that I had a few minutes, but she beat me. “You go on, Boone. I don’t have anything else to add. You know as much as I know at this point. You’ve got a drive ahead of you.”
To say I was torn didn’t quite cut it. When Grace reached past me to open her car door, I decided to take the blessing I’d been granted. She didn’t chase me off, she let me touch her, and she told me at least what she knew about what was going on.
I’d be stopping by her place tonight. Seeing as all I had to do was walk over to the other side of the duplex, that was easy.
Chapter Five
Boone
Wrapping a towel around my waist, I stepped out of the shower area back at the station and crossed into the locker room. Jackson was partially dressed in jeans and was presently rubbing his damp hair with a towel. Glancing over, he said, “Hey, man. Glad you were able to get back in time to help us out.”
“Of course,” I replied as I stepped to my locker and swung it open. Taking out a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I dropped my towel and got dressed quickly.
As I dressed, Jackson continued talking while he pulled on a T-shirt. “You’re a damn good climber. Maybe the best we’ve got on the crew now.”
Walker, who was the most recent addition to the rescue crew, chimed in, “I’ll say.”
Tossing my towel into the hamper in the corner, I glanced between them as I sat down on the long wooden bench in front of the lockers. “I don’t know about that.” Looking to Jackson and nudging my chin in his direction, I added, “You’re pretty damn good yourself. Today was rough from the rain that blew through. Everything was slick.”
“Slick as hell,” Walker offered as he sat down across from me. He slid his feet into a pair of battered leather boots.
Jackson’s locker clanged as he pushed it shut quickly, his rain jacket gripped in one hand. “I swear, most of our work is dealing with car accidents when people go too damn fast on these mountain roads.”
“Well, I’d say most rescue crews everywhere deal with car accidents more than anything,” I commented. “Although dealing with them here certainly has its challenges. The mountain roads here are different from those out West. Here, the roads are narrow and winding. Out there, they have more passes that cut straight through the mountains.”
Walker nodded in agreement. “Hell yeah. Part of the problem now is these roads were built before there was so much traffic. Just take a look at the cities here compared to the ones out West. Carriage traffic was a bit different.”
Jackson chuckled. “Good point.” His eyes swung back to me. “But thanks. We needed your help climbing down that cliff. It certainly wasn’t something one person could handle.”
That emergency call had been for a car accident. Two teenagers ended up in a tangle of brush and kudzu off the steep side of a road, hugging a cliff. Jackson and I had scaled down, carefully, mind you, to get the two kids out safely. The location was bad enough that it would be a bit before they got that car out of there. That part wasn’t our problem now. Blessedly, the two impulsive kids were going to be fine. Between the two of them, they had
a broken arm, a broken collarbone, and a few nasty bruises and gashes. Not bad considering how things could have gone.
After lacing my boots, I stood, and the three of us walked out together. We’d been the last of our group to get back to the station.
“Wanna grab a drink at Lost Deer Bar?” Walker asked as we stepped outside into the darkness.
The rain had shifted from its abrupt sky wide-open pouring to a steady drizzle. I was thinking I wanted to get home and see if Grace was around and was about to say “no” when Jackson replied, “Sure. Shay texted me that she was already there with a few of the girls from the lodge.”
Although Grace was not specifically mentioned, I knew there was a good chance she’d be there. That meant I’d be there too.
Not more than an hour later, I drained my beer as I watched Grace exit the bar, the light glinting off the streak of purple in her hair. After our marginally friendly conversation this afternoon, she had studiously ignored me tonight, reverting right back to the way she’d been since I’d moved back to town.
Dawson’s voice came from my side. “Well, I think Grace should get an A-plus for how well she ignores you,” he offered with a chuckle.
Glancing to him, I rolled my eyes. “Can’t argue with that.”
I tried to keep my tone light, but I could instantly tell Dawson noticed something. Much as he teased, I’d come to learn he had a serious side, and he was perceptive as hell. He only chose to let that slip every so often.
“Something tells me you want another shot with her.”
Seeing as Dawson was the love of Grace’s best friend, I figured it might not hurt to talk to him. Not to mention, I could use some advice.
“Most definitely,” I admitted. “The thing is, it’s complicated.”
“Is it ever not complicated?” Dawson drawled, a hint of his usual teasing tone breaking through.
Taking a breath, I nodded. “I suppose not. Grace thinks I dumped her for someone else and got the other woman pregnant. On the surface, I guess that’s what happened. It’s just not as clear cut as she thinks.”
Dawson’s eyes widened, and I almost laughed. It was hard to surprise him, but it appeared I had pulled it off. I knew my smile was on the bitter side. “I guess that makes me sound like an asshole. Here’s what happened. Grace and I dated in high school and our first year of college. I used to go visit my father every summer in Colorado before he died. I had to sort out some financial aid stuff, so I planned to stay with him through the fall semester. I flat didn’t have the money not to. Grace suggested we take a break that summer. It wasn’t an ugly break-up or anything. She just thought we were young and should see if we wanted to date anyone else. To make a very long story short, I dated a little bit. Nothing serious with anyone. Turns out, a girl I had sex with got pregnant. I didn’t find that out until after Grace and I talked and decided we didn’t want to see other people anymore.” I paused and shook my head. In hindsight, it was an epic case of bad timing and bad luck. “It was like two months since I’d even talked to the girl, and she called me out of the blue to tell me she was pregnant. Right around the same time, my dad was diagnosed with colon cancer.”
Dawson shook his head slowly, his breath coming out in a ragged sigh. “Aw hell, man. That’s a fucking mess. What the hell did you do? And, am I missing something and you’ve got a kid I don’t even know about?”
Out of this whole fiasco, that part stung. Badly. “No. She ended up having a miscarriage about six months into her pregnancy. We weren’t even together. But I fucking panicked as soon as I found out she was pregnant. I just did. I needed to stay home with my dad because he was pretty sick, and I didn’t know how to handle what the hell was going on.”
“You didn’t explain all this to Grace?”
I shook my head, the regret I’d been carrying like a cold stone in my chest feeling heavier than ever. “Nope. I know better now. But—” I lifted a hand and let it fall as I shrugged. “I was barely twenty years old. Not exactly emotionally mature. I was afraid Grace would freak out, so I just pulled back. I knew I couldn’t come back here, not then. Not with my dad sick. I stayed and finished college out there, and my dad died a few weeks after I graduated. In the meantime, the girl who was never my girlfriend had a miscarriage, and that was that.”
“Oh.”
“That’s all ya got for me?” I teased, if only because bitter humor was just about the only way to get through tolerating the memories of that ugly, tangled mess. I hadn’t even told him the whole fiasco yet, but enough.
“You wanted advice?” he queried, his tone disbelieving.
“Now I do. Any idea what I should do about Grace?”
Dawson stared at me blankly. “All I got for you is you might as well explain that clusterfuck to her. I’m sorry, man. That sounds really hard.”
I eyed him and nodded slowly. “It was. And, I guess you’re right. I might as well talk to her.” At that, I pushed away from the bar and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll catch you later.” I was done waiting.
Chapter Six
Grace
The sip of strawberry margarita slid smoothly across my tongue and down my throat. I set the glass down on the counter, glancing over when Wayne meowed from where he sat on the windowsill looking out into the darkness.
“What?” I asked.
Wayne simply meowed again. I surmised he thought he saw something in the dark outside, even though he could barely see. Of course, the vet said his hearing was still going strong, so only he knew what he might’ve heard. After a moment, he leaped off the windowsill and walked to the door, his tail twitching back and forth as he meowed again.
“Boone’s not here,” I commented.
I rolled my eyes and glanced away. Ever since Boone had moved into the other side of the duplex, Wayne had taken to lingering by the door. He’d never done that before. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he appeared to remember Boone, which annoyed me to no end.
I had intended to go to the bar and hang out with the girls tonight, most preferably to unwind with a few drinks. Boone had made an appearance and cramped my style more than was comfortable. As such, I had left early. I hoped no one noticed. I’d come home to make a single margarita.
My mind was jumping tracks between two twisted and tangled trains of thought. What Evie had told me about Boone’s apparently ex-girlfriend having a late miscarriage, and my encounter with him this afternoon outside the doctor’s office.
Although I had nothing more than a sketch of what might have happened, my heart ached a little for him. I had no idea if he loved that girl. I had no idea if the tragedy of that miscarriage had torn them apart. As betrayed as I’d felt by Boone that summer, it didn’t change what I knew about him. I knew it would’ve hurt him to lose a baby like that. It was so emotionally confusing to have the scar ripped open on my heart when he came back to Stolen Hearts and to now ache for what he must’ve gone through. It felt as if I were picking my way through a field of emotional landmines.
After Evie’s prodding, I had caved a little today when Boone had insisted on trying to talk to me. Whether I admitted it to myself or not, my attempt to box him out of my life by ignoring him had utterly failed. He took up plenty of space in my thoughts, at this point far more than I wanted.
I had hoped, desperately hoped, to go into the doctor today and find out just what the hell was causing these migraines. There seemed to be no rhythm, no rhyme, nor reason to them. I’d never had a seizure in my life, but they wanted to rule them out because, apparently, my father had a mild seizure disorder. So mild I’d never even known about it when he was alive.
The whole thing scared me a little, enough so that I’d told no one about finally going to see a doctor. Now, I’d gone and told Boone because he caught me at a weak moment. I took another gulp of my margarita just as Wayne meowed and there was a knock on my door.
Thinking the only person it could be was my mother, I stood and crossed the short distance from the kit
chen island to the door, speaking as I opened it. “Mom, how many times do I have to tell you…”
Instead of my mother, Boone stood there. My heart—my tricky, unfaithful to me heart—did a little flip. It started beating so hard I imagined it was almost clapping its hands and stomping its feet.
Wayne, also unfaithful to me, wrapped himself around Boone’s ankles, his purr loud enough for both of us to hear it.
Boone’s dark blond hair was mussed. His mouth hitched at the corner in a lazy grin after a glance down at Wayne. When he looked up, his intent gaze locked on mine.
“I’m not your mom,” he said by way of greeting.
“No?” I countered, unable to keep my lips from curling into a smile. I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep a giggle from escaping. Boone confused me. Oh so much.
I didn’t realize I was simply standing there, staring at him until he spoke again. “May I come in?”
It was so not fair that such an innocuous question sounded so damn sexy and dirty coming from his mouth.
Somehow the combination of finally getting close to Boone, our almost kiss, that little nugget of information from Evie — which had muddled all of the stories I’d written in my head and heart about what happened that summer when Boone betrayed me, or so I’d thought — and our brief interaction at the doctor’s office this afternoon had shredded my denial about my feelings for him.
Wanting Boone came as easy as breathing to me. I’d tried dating since him and repeatedly found it lacking. Not to mention, I seemed to have a knack for finding assholes. Well, maybe not a knack. The only two guys I’d even entertained something serious with had both been reading a different book than me when it came to relationships. The last one, John, had been the equivalent of grinding sand into the scar left by Boone.
You learn over time that the stories you tell yourself hold the most power. It’s not so much whether they’re factually true or not. Emotion isn’t based in fact or reality. It resides in the nebulous world of the heart, complicated by the push and pull of so many factors beyond our control.
