He gives me a sideways smile. God, his profile is perfect. Like some kind of Greek god. “Then we wait.”
“Okay,” I say, rubbing my hands together and then flexing my fingers in a pre-game stretch. “I can do this.”
What could possibly be better than casting my fishing line and spending time waiting with Tyler for a fish to bite? It’ll probably take hours. Hours upon hours, in which we will tell each other our deepest and darkest secrets. Maybe fishing really could be my new hobby.
I hold the pole in my hands the same way Tyler did, two-handed like a baseball bat and swing, but nothing happens. Unfazed, I pull it back again. Maybe I didn’t swing it hard enough. Tyler clears his throat and when I look at him, he mimics the pressing of a button with his thumb. Oh, right. I have to press that button as I swing.
I press the button this time, and swing harder with the energy boost I get from the desire of not looking like a total idiot. The reel makes a hissing sound as the line spits out and the hook soars through the air. I hold my hand as a shield from the sun and watch the lake for signs of my hook dropping in the water next to Tyler’s.
But when the sound never comes, I squint harder and try to see some ripples in the water from where it landed.
“Okay, don’t panic,” Tyler’s strained voice says from behind me.
“It must have gone really far?” I ask, still looking for my line in the water.
“You got me,” Tyler says, his voice even more strained than a moment ago.
I turn around and fall to my knees in shock. Blood pours out of Tyler’s head, near his temple. It gushes over his eyebrow and into his left eye and it’s coming out of the side of his head where my treble fish hook has lacerated him. Oh my god, no. This isn’t happening.
“This isn’t happening,” I say aloud as my hands fumble in midair, not knowing that to do. Tyler sits remarkably still, a pained expression on his still beautiful, albeit bloody, face. “What do I do?”
“Look in my tackle box, get the pocket knife and cut the line.”
I do as he says, and gently slice through the fishing line a few inches away from his head. I only take one good look at the hook before I have to turn away. Two of the hooks are buried deep into his skin, that extra pointy thing they have making it impossible for it to fall out on its own. This is a million times worse than seeing a fish gobble it up and get stuck.
“I’m so sorry,” I say as my arms flounce at my sides and I try to keep my composure. “I can’t even apologize enough for this.”
A tiny smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Is it wrong that I’m kind of glad this happened?”
I blink. He’s crazy. He’s lost so much blood that he’s getting delusional. Oh, shit, what if he dies from blood loss? “You need a hospital. Can you walk? Where do we go?” I pull him to his feet and it only barely registers in my mind that we’re holding hands for a few moments. Drops of his blood spill on my arm as I hold his elbow and walk him off the pier.
He reaches in his pocket and hands me a set of keys. “You drive. I don’t think I can.”
“How far away is the hospital?”
“About an hour.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“I kid you not.” Tyler climbs into the passenger side of his old Chevy and I walk around to the driver’s side. I’ve never driven a truck before, but I can’t imagine it would be much different than my SUV. “I would never kid you, Robin.”
I laugh and he starts laughing too but then winces in pain. “Did you say you’re glad this happened?” I ask, remembering what he said on the pier.
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I’m in terrible amounts of pain right now. But I had this dinner thing tonight, and I’m glad I have an excuse to get out of it now.”
He hands me the keys and I almost drop them when I look over at him. He does something I can’t even fathom at first. He stretches out the collar of his T-shirt and gently pulls it in a wide berth over his head, careful not to let it touch the hook. As my jaw hits the ground, he rolls up the shirt and press it to the side of his face to catch all the blood. He doesn’t just have nice abs. He has an actual six pack. In one second all of the air in my lungs disappears, leaving me gasping for a breath.
Keep it together, Robin. I can survive this without blabbering on like an idiot or letting him see me gawk at him like some old guy hanging outside a women’s yoga class at the gym.
I’ll just pretend I’m an ambulance driver taking a regular patient to the hospital. The shirtlessness of the patient is of no consequence to me. All I have to do is drive. I do not need to look over at him. So I put my hands on the steering wheel and crank the key. I can do this.
The truck doesn’t start. I try turning the key again, and the radio pops on but the engine makes no attempt to crank over. Even though I’m not supposed to look at him, I glance over at the patient helplessly.
He’s shaking his head and smiling. I hate when he does that. I also love it. “You need to clutch to start the truck.”
“Clutch?” All the blood drops out of my face. “I can’t drive a standard.”
“You can learn.” He winces and rests his head back against the seat. His eyes close. “I’ll teach you.”
Chapter 6
Tyler still manages to look cute with a big bandage taped on his head. He had to get eight stitches and a tetanus shot. I offer to pay for his medical bills but he assures me he has good insurance and it won’t be that bad. I struggle to believe that anyone in Salt Gap has good insurance.
Tyler drives us home from the hospital in half the time it took me to get us there. I guess not killing the engine at every red light has something to do with making a speedy trip. Although I feel like a total asshat loser for hooking him in the head with my fishing line, he’s taking it pretty well. He hasn’t voiced any regrets about taking me fishing with him, or hinted that maybe I should move back to Houston where I belong.
He hasn’t said much of anything about the incident actually.
“I’m really sorry,” I say. “I feel ridiculously terrible for what happened.”
“I’m sure I had it coming anyway,” he says.
“What does that mean?”
He shrugs. “Do you think everything happens for a reason?”
“I guess.” He looks at me for a moment, and then turns back to the road.
“Well, I do. And I know it sounds crazy but I think you were meant to maim me today.”
“Maim! I didn’t maim you! It’s barely a scratch,” I say, holding out my index finger and thumb an inch apart. “Just a tiny little thing.”
“It was the most painful tiny little thing I’ve ever felt.”
I look out my window with a snort. “That’s what she said.”
He laughs. “No, really. This dinner I had tonight—you have no idea—” He grips the steering wheel tightly and rubs his thumbs back and forth. “I did not want to go to it. I practically prayed for a reason to get out of it tonight, and then there you were—a crazed woman with a fishing pole. My answer.”
His answer. I could get used to that. “What kind of dinner was it?”
“It was a stupid dinner.”
“You didn’t ditch on a date or something, did you?” I throw my hand over my chest like I’m totally appalled, but it’s really just my way of seeing what his answer will be.
“Nah. It was a big gathering of friends, and this one friend in particular was doing this big thing.” The way he says the word friend makes it obvious he has only distain for that person. “It’s better that I wasn’t there. But I couldn’t say no to my other friend…”
He’s being so cryptic it’s painful. “Okay, okay. I get it. Sort of.”
The truck rolls to a stop and I’m surprised to find us in my driveway. How did we get home so fast? I’m so not ready for him to go. But it’s not like hooking a guy in the face the day after you reject him is a way to win his heart. Now I’ll probably only see him when I hand him the rent money each
month.
“Sorry, again,” I say, reaching for the door handle. “But I’m glad to help you ditch a stupid dinner.”
He gives me a big grin. “Just don’t tell anyone I cried, okay? Especially Miranda because she will tell Marcus and it’ll all be over then.”
“Ha!” I point at him. “That’s a pretty big lie, I’m not sure I can uphold it.”
His bottom lip curls out. I want to grab it in my teeth. “Please?” he whines, using his slightly closed eyes and curled out bottom lip as ammunition against my defenses.
I bite my lip. “Your secret is safe with me.” I bounce on the toes of my feet as I stand here, my hands resting on the passenger door from the outside. Shit, I’m flirting. I have to play it cool and not lay it on so thick. “Miranda won’t be home until after midnight and by then, I will have forgotten.”
Tyler looks past me and at the dark windows of my house. “She’s not here?”
“No, she’s working at the diner. She likes the late shift,” I say.
“So you’re all alone tonight?” There’s something in the way he asks it that makes my stomach flip over with excitement. Yes, I’m available to make out with you, Tyler. Just say the word.
“Yep, all alone. All by myself.” Ugh, that was laying it on thick! God, Robin!
“Get back in.” Tyler reaches across the truck and opens my door from the inside. “I’m starving. Let’s get dinner.”
Chapter 7
I feel like I’m stepping out of a limo and onto a red carpet event as I walk through the parking lot with Tyler next to me. The only thing missing is dozens of flashing cameras, and, well, a limo and red carpet. But that will be solved soon. All the diner’s regulars will see me walking in with Tyler and know we’re on a date. That’s better than being a celebrity at a movie premiere.
Tyler holds open the door for me just like a perfect gentleman should. Miranda’s face lights up when she sees me. She’s wearing a purple Salt Gap Diner shirt and a pair of jeans. She’s a copy of Elizabeth, only younger and with a makeup covered broken nose. “Hey!” she squeals, giving me a little wave as I walk up to the hostess stand. “Would you like a menu, or are you a regular guest?” She says it in this goofy voice as she elbows me in the ribs.
“I’m a regular,” I say to humor her.
“Of course,” she says, still in that stupid voice. “I’m a regular too. Because I live in Salt Gap. Let me take you to your table.”
“I, uh—” I say, pointing behind me. “He’s with me, too.”
Miranda’s eyes bulge out of her skull in a totally obvious way. “Hey Tyler,” she says. “What the hell happened to your face?”
He glances at me. “Someone hooked me in the eye, but I took it like a man.”
“No crying whatsoever,” I add.
Miranda’s eyes shift from him to me. “Riiight. Follow me.”
She sits us at the table in the back. The same one she and I sat for dinner in our first night at Salt Gap. I know this isn’t a coincidence. It’s surrounded by empty tables and is the perfect place for talking and getting to know each other. Which I know is exactly what Miranda wants us to do.
“So tell me about real estate,” Tyler says after our waitress delivers our food without so much as a word. Guess not every waitress in Salt Gap is like Elizabeth. This woman is much older and looks like she hates everything about her job. “It sounds fascinating.”
“Fascinating?” I ask, trying to gauge if he’s being sarcastic or not.
“Okay bad word choice. It sounds hard, actually. Getting those duplexes deeded to me was a total mess. There was missing paperwork, arguing survivors of the deceased owner, deed inaccuracies…”
“Wow,” I say, mixing around the mashed potatoes on my plate. “I thought small town real estate would be easy.”
“Yeah me too. I didn’t have to buy my house, I inherited it. My grandfather built it and he also built those duplexes so I just didn’t want them to be torn down or anything.”
“It can get complicated when someone dies and the ownership of their properties isn’t clearly laid out in the will. Every relative wants a—” I’m cut off mid-sentence by a tangle of girlish squeals and shrieks. Tyler buries his face in his hand. The noise must be giving his already hurting head an even worse headache.
The shrieking is being done by a circle of women around the hostess table. Elizabeth, dressed in a stunning black dress stands in the middle of them. She’s holding out her left hand as they take turns admiring a sparkling new ring on her finger. “Wow,” I say. “Elizabeth’s engaged.”
Tyler’s hand covers his face. All I can see is his eyebrows and they’re crinkled in pain. I know he’s annoyed that I keep doting on him so I ignore the fact that he’s in pain and keep talking. “You know Elizabeth, the waitress? She just stopped by and she’s totally wearing an engagement ring.”
Tyler looks up at me, his tan skin whiter than usual. He rubs his hands up and down his face. “Yeah I know her. That’s nice for her.”
“You look terrible. Do you want to leave?” I shove a big bite of food in my mouth in the very likely instance he says yes.
“Yeah, but not now.” He looks at his plate and keeps eating. Okay, things are weird now.
“Tyler!” Elizabeth’s voice calls across the room and soon she is at our table, bringing the scent of her perfume with her. “You can’t come to dinner, but you can stop for this crappy food? You have explaining to do, mister.”
Tyler looks up, turning his head to the left so she can see his bandage. “Oh wow,” she says, her sparkling hand covering her mouth. “What happened?”
“I got injured. Eight stitches and three hours in the emergency room. Sorry I missed your dinner.”
“Shit, that’s crazy! I guess I forgive you then.” She looks at me. “Hey Robin, I’m sorry. I totally would have invited you but I didn’t know what was happening tonight. Will planned this whole fancy dinner in town and all of our friends were there, except for Stitches over here.” She pushes his shoulder playfully. “And it was a total surprise and Will proposed!”
Here comes the obligatory left palm down and outstretched showing off of the ring. It’s a pretty huge diamond for someone who wears wife beater tank tops and has amateurishly done tattoos on his arms. “It’s beautiful,” I say.
“Thanks, Robin. Tyler, you’re not even looking at it.” Elizabeth moves to his side of the table and wiggles her fingers. Tyler gets this smile on his face like he’s looking at a child’s crappy drawing but doesn’t want to disappoint them. “It’s nice,” he says. Elizabeth seems pleased with our responses and dashes off to show her ring to an older couple at the table next to us.
“She’s extra bubbly today,” I say. Tyler takes his wallet out of his back pocket and puts a few bills on the table. “Sorry Robin.” He pushes his chair back and stands up.
“Sorry for what?”
“Just sorry.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I have to go. I can’t stay here any longer.”
Miranda, never the one to stay tight-lipped about something, bites her lips closed as I talk. We’re sitting on the floor with a stack of DVDs from the cheap movie bin at the corner store. The film we’ve chosen to watch tonight is on the TV, its menu screen playing continuously in a loop as I talk. I tell her every detail of tonight, from the stink bait to the hospital and how his middle name is Vernon. Then, although I hate recounting it, I tell her about how he ditched me at the diner. Finally, when it feels like I’ve talked for an hour straight and can say no more, I sigh and throw up my arms in defeat.
Miranda rocks back on her heels and parts her lips with her tongue. This is the longest I’ve ever seen the girl stay quiet and with every second that passes, I find myself more desperate to hear what she’s thinking. Finally, she says, “You know what this means, right?”
“It means he hates being around me?” I say. We’ve made a huge pot of queso for our movie night, and suddenly the cheese covered chip in my hand looks g
ross and inedible.
Miranda takes my hand and squeezes it. “It means he likes Elizabeth.” Her words fill my head and swim around in my thoughts, blurry and incomprehensible at first.
“That’s…” I want to say impossible, but the word stops on my tongue. I think back to the way Tyler seemed normal all night until she walked in the door. He held his head and looked down the whole time. I thought it was just the loud voices hurting his head. And she had mentioned that they all went to dinner—”Oh, shit.” I drop my head to my knee. “He kept saying he was glad I sent him to the emergency room because he wanted to get out of this dinner. He would have been at that dinner tonight when Will proposed to her.”
Miranda frowns. “I’m sorry, Robin.”
All night I’ve sat around the house, waiting for Miranda to get home so I could pour my heart out about how he doesn’t like me. But it never occurred to me that it’s not me he doesn’t like. It’s Elizabeth he does like.
Not knowing what to do with the cheesy chip in my hand, I go ahead and eat it. The cheese is cold now and the chip is soggy and it’s about all I can do to chew it up and swallow instead of spitting it on the floor. This realization that Tyler, my secret excuse to stay in Salt Gap, has a crush on someone else is a pretty big emotional blow. My chest aches, and I can’t remember the last time my chest physically hurt over the loss of a guy. It was probably back in high school.
In a completely involuntary action of my body, like breathing or blinking, hot tears form in the corners of my eyes. I blink, quickly trying to ward them away, but it only works for a second before the tears are falling down my cheeks and I’m crying. Crying on the floor of a rental house in Salt Gap, Texas.
It doesn’t get much more pathetic than this.
The Fate Series Box Set (Robin and Tyler Book 4) Page 11
