“Well, call if you want to, you know, get together or something. Not like get together,” he clarified, as he must have thought it sounded like an invitation to hook up.
She smiled at the flush on his cheeks. “I understand what you meant.” Ask him about Raleigh. Ask, ask, ask! But her parents were right there, already wondering, by their glances in her direction, whom she was having more than a brief conversation with.
Pax gave her a business card that bore the Chambliss County Sheriff’s Office information on the front, then turned it over. “You need anything, anything at all, ring me up.” He bussed her cheek, then gave her parents a polite nod before stepping up to the casket.
She searched for Raleigh one more time and felt a hollowness when she saw no sign of him.
Her mother’s narrowed eyes followed Pax as he walked away from the casket. “That wasn’t the boy who almost got you killed, was it?”
“No.” Identifying him as Raleigh’s best friend wouldn’t be much better. “Just a friend.”
“At least he didn’t show up,” her mother said, her lips tight.
The three of them were standing alone now, outsiders in the crowd. Many people were in groups on the other side of the casket, chatting and laughing.
“Remember that time when Nancy—”
“Nancy was always—”
“Actually, he did,” her father said, nodding toward the oak tree. “He was hovering at the edge. I don’t see him now, though.”
“Of all the nerve.”
Mia turned to her mother. “Why wouldn’t he come? It sounds like he was a better family to her than we were these last few years.”
Her mother tuned her out, as she always did when Mia made a valid point. Her father’s eyes were narrowed as he scanned the crowd. “At least he didn’t come up to us.” He shifted those eyes to her. “To you. Don’t talk to him, Mia. That no-good punk is nothing but trouble.”
“Which is what we told you when you first started seeing him,” her mother had to interject. “He put us through hell.”
Mia had held her words all these years, but she couldn’t let them throw Raleigh under the bus. “I put you through hell. I wanted to race with him—begged to, actually.” She had craved the excitement she’d seen from the sidelines. Riding in Raleigh’s fast car was a rush second only to falling in love with him. “He tried to talk me out of it.”
Her mother grasped her chin. “You were just a child. A naïve, lonely girl. After everything you’d been through, it was natural to be drawn to someone like him. But you’re an adult now. You know better.”
It had been easy for her parents to blame Raleigh, because they couldn’t aim it at her. She had gone through a phase of blaming herself but had finally released the anger altogether. As she well knew, life was too short to hold on to pain. Or to the past. Her parents hadn’t let go of either, though, and Mia couldn’t tolerate it anymore.
“Everything I did, I did knowingly,” Mia said in a quiet voice. “Willingly. He was the first boy I knew since I was first diagnosed with cancer who didn’t look at me like I was some sick girl. Who saw me as who I was.”
Her mother scoffed. “He fit the category of the bad boys in all those vampire books you read back then. You thought you were in love, but he was just after one thing, Mia.”
Mia had to bite back the snarl that threatened to erupt. “Thank you for making me into nothing more than a piece of ass, Mother. Because certainly you wouldn’t want me to feel like I actually mattered to him.”
“Do not use that language with me, young lady. That’s not what I meant. And you said you didn’t”—she lowered her voice—”share intimacies.”
Rage boiled up inside Mia. She wanted to spew that she’d made love with Raleigh. That he’d been so incredibly tender, so considerate, wanting to make absolutely sure she was ready. He’d protected her by wearing condoms. Of course, this wasn’t the right time or place, and she would never share that with them anyway. She wanted to tell them, though, that it was more than sex, even more than the way it felt when he’d filled her and held her as if he would never let her go. It was his confession that she made him feel good about himself for the first time. Made him feel valuable. That was the greatest gift she’d given him, and, considering that he regarded her virginity as precious, that was saying something.
But she swallowed it, as she’d done all her life, and walked away to find Pax. To ask him about Raleigh, request that he pass on her regards in a safe, third-party way, because she needed to do at least that.
Then she saw him. Not Pax but Raleigh. All the breath left her again, and a tremble shimmered through her body. He knelt some distance away in front of a small, thin tombstone, his face somber. His fingers grazed the top curve of the stone. Behind her, she heard the director invite everyone back to the funeral home for libations. She knew Raleigh wouldn’t be there, that this might be her only chance to talk to him…about what?
She didn’t know, but her body was already heading his way. Shaky legs taking one step, then another. As she had when she walked up to the speaker earlier, she followed the impulse. Knowing it was the right thing to do.
Tell him you’re not angry with him. That you’re not so wrecked that you can’t even talk to him.
Yes, she needed to exonerate him in person after that last time they’d talked. He had no doubt taken her rejection of his call as anger. She picked up her pace, knowing her parents would spot her any minute and intervene for “her own friggin’ good.” Well, they wouldn’t use the word “friggin’ ” but still.
Raleigh looked up, and his eyes softened in a way she knew, and felt, right down to her bones. He didn’t smile, but he stood, his body tensing as he took in her approach. Friendly or hostile? He was no doubt trying to figure it out. She tried to smile, to let him know that she wasn’t here to yell at him, but her face felt frozen. Paralyzed. Hell, was she going to freeze up again?
She tried to utter a greeting, but her dry throat prevented the words from emerging. She waved instead.
Raleigh stepped out from behind the stone, coming toward her. His eyes hungrily roamed over her, skipping from her face down her body, then quickly back again. Not lustily but as if sating a deep thirst. And there, beneath the question in his eyes, lay a hint of a smile. Suddenly she was transported back to that first time she’d gone into the garage just to see him. To ask him more about the races. He’d looked both pleased and surprised.
“Mia,” he said, her name loaded with more than she could interpret.
For a moment, she forgot about the scars that would be visible in the bright sunlight. She forgot to breathe. “Raleigh,” she said. She thought she was smiling, but it might look more like a grimace. Gawd, get hold of yourself. You’re just here to let him know you don’t hate him. “I—”
“Mia! We have to go!” Her mother’s voice pounded harshly from behind her.
Mia turned, spotting her mother duck-walking over in spiked heels that kept sinking into the earth, hands fisted at her sides. She turned back to Raleigh. “I just wanted to say…I don’t—”
“Mia,” her mother ground out.
“Blame you,” Mia managed, and quickly walked toward her mother, not wanting her anywhere near Raleigh. He would probably think she was still that timid seventeen-year-old who was afraid her parents would find out that she was sneaking out at night. But she wanted to protect him from all the angry, imprudent things that would gush from her mother’s mouth.
“What are you doing?” she hissed as Mia hooked her arm through hers and spun her back toward the casket.
“It’s called closure, Mother. The last time we spoke, he’d called to see how I was doing, and I hung up on him.”
“Well, he deserved it,” she shot back, flicking a glance backward.
Mia fought not to do the same. She didn’t want to see what expression he might have. Disgust. Sympathy. Regret. Or, even worse, just dismissal. “No, he didn’t.”
“She was tal
king to him,” her mother said when they reached her father. “She went to him.”
Mia met her father’s curious and disconcerted expression. “I just wanted him to know I wasn’t angry at him.” Though, dammit, she hadn’t gotten that part out.
“Why do you care what he thinks?” her father asked in his low, emotionless voice.
“Or do you care?” her mother asked. “You’re not still—”
“Of course not.” Even uttering the words in love was preposterous. Mia couldn’t help herself, glancing toward Raleigh. He was kneeling in front of the stone again, but his eyes were on her. “It was just a summer romance. Teenage hormones.”
They seemed gratified by that last declaration, even though it sounded hollow to her ears. “We should go,” her father said, nodding toward the people now milling by the limousine.
Once they reached it, she shot one more look toward Raleigh. She wanted to believe her recent declaration, but she felt exactly like that girl who had fallen fast and hard for the boy who’d made her a woman.
Chapter 3
Raleigh was doing mundane mechanic stuff, his day job, but his mind was on the developers who were coming in two days to look at the garage and the land it was on. Peter had warned him, because he knew how much Raleigh wanted to buy it.
“I’ll stick to the price we talked about, Raleigh,” he’d said. “But I gotta honor the promise I made to my wife years ago. She’s been missing the grandbabies something fierce, and we never have enough money or time to travel to California to visit. I told her we’d move out there when I can retire. She’s waited long enough.”
“I understand.” But Raleigh wouldn’t if the place was sold out from under him. The garage had been like a second home. Hell, a first home, since he spent more time there.
Panic tightened his throat. He’d spent the money he’d been saving since high school on the one acre of land the Airstream had sat on. After that, he’d built a cabin, buying materials and bartering his services with various contractors. Then the ‘Cuda. Since last year, when Peter had warned him that he was going to be retiring, Raleigh had been working harder than ever to save money for a down payment. He’d even listed the car for sale on the various classic car sites, but there had been nothing but ridiculously low offers.
“You have to do what you have to do, Peter.” He glanced at the clock, then placed the screwdriver carefully back in his toolbox. The one nobody touched at the risk of dismemberment. “I’m taking off for lunch.”
“Again?” Mike asked from the other side of a truck’s open engine compartment. “I never saw you leave for lunch so much before.”
Which had nothing to do with Mia’s being in town. Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, sucker. Luckily, Mike had started at the garage long after the accident and Raleigh’s jail sentence, so he wouldn’t be ferreting out the truth. Then again, Chambliss was still a small town, even if it was growing.
“Have to run to the bank today.” He washed, using his nail brush to get out the grime. He remembered people making derogatory remarks about his “grease monkey” hands when he was a teenager. Mia’s parents had used the phrase, too. He’d determined not to look like one ever again, even though he was proud of what he did. Everyone needed a mechanic. People with money and a need for speed wanted a good, high-performance mechanic. They were willing to pay big for it, too.
He hadn’t seen Mia or her parents on his lunch outings, which was probably a good thing. Look at the scene her mother had been about to launch at the memorial. The woman hated him on sight.
I don’t blame you.
Mia’s words coiled through him, even though he’d run them, and every second of their brief exchange, through his mind a thousand times. She’d gone out of her way to tell him that. If that was the only thing she said to him, the only time he saw her, he would be happy with those simple words.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true, since, yes, he was looking for her as he drove into the downtown area fifteen minutes later. Dressed in fresh clothes, new boots, smelling of cologne.
She’d been beautiful, heart-stopping, just like the first time he’d seen her. Sure, her complexion was a little rough beneath heavy foundation, and his heart shriveled at the thought of his part in that.
I don’t blame you.
He did, and always would. Because, as much as he detested her snooty parents, they were right. He had lured her into danger with that first invitation, figuring out pretty quickly that she was sheltered and hungry for excitement. He’d been hungry, too. For her. She’d been so different from the easy girls who wanted nothing more than free beer and hot sex with the night’s winner. And that was often Raleigh. Before Mia, both had been his source of self-esteem.
Mia had been fresh and sweet and real. Watching her blossom was like blossoming himself. He hadn’t known about her cancer then, and he suspected that had been by design. When Nancy told him, it explained a lot.
He parked, checked his appearance in the rearview mirror, and walked inside. Marta was always his best bet, the loan officer he’d talked to on many occasions. She knew him from the time he’d been a twelve-year-old sneaking into the open-air bar to persuade his father to come home. She’d been one of the old man’s victims, a mousy woman with a big heart who thought she could save the charming ne’er-do-well. Luckily, she’d given up long ago. But she’d always been nice to Raleigh, dropping off some “extra” school supplies she happened to have lying around her office even after she’d dumped Hank.
Raleigh made a beeline for her office, turned the chair around, and plunked down backward, setting a sheaf of papers on her desk. “Try again.” He tilted his head. “Please? Come on, don’t give me that sympathetic smile. You haven’t even looked at the numbers yet.”
“Oh, honey, I love your optimism. I really do. But unless you’ve got”—she pulled out her drawer, took out a yellow notepad, and flipped to the back page—”forty-two thousand five hundred and sixty dollars, approximately, I’m afraid we can’t loan you the money.”
He could only blink. “How’d you know the ‘approximately’ exact number?”
“I ran numbers again for you last week, but unless you have that kind of investment, the bank isn’t going to take a chance.”
On him. That’s what she wasn’t going to say.
“Someone’s looking at the garage, Marta. They’re going to buy it and tear it down and put up a shopping center. I have to find a way to buy it.”
“I wish we could help you, honey, I really do. If I had that kind of cash, I’d loan it to you in a heartbeat. I know you’re good for it.”
“I appreciate that.”
Prettier now, with self-confidence and a stylish cut, she gave him a full smile. “I mean it.”
He pushed to his feet and flipped the chair back around in one movement. “Where’s Mr. O’Connell?” He turned toward the open door—and came face-to-face with Mia.
Mia looked as surprised to see him as he was to see her, her lush mouth in an O. Across the way, her father was shaking hands with Mr. O’Connell and thanking him for his help.
“Your mother was a fine woman,” the manager was saying. “We loved doing business with her. And, of course, if you’d like to keep her accounts here—”
“No, we’ll be closing them out by week’s end,” her father said, walking directly to the entrance with a folder full of paperwork. “Thank you for your assistance.”
Mia was clearly torn, looking her father’s way—thankfully, he hadn’t seen Raleigh—and then at him. With a chagrined smile, she followed her father, who was holding the door open for her.
Great. She’d heard him practically begging for a loan. And getting rejected.
“That’s the girl who was in your car that night, wasn’t it?” Marta asked at his shoulder, watching the two leave. “The one who was burned bad.”
“Yeah.” He was watching them, too, her father pointing to the Greek restaurant across the street. The breeze blew Mia’s brown h
air across her cheek. How many times had he brushed her short locks back from her face on those warm summer nights?
“She doesn’t look like she blames you.”
He pulled his gaze from their Lincoln back to Marta. Nancy was the only person in whom he’d confided about Mia. Even with Marta’s piqued expression, he couldn’t say that Mia had uttered those very words. “Her parents do. They always thought I wasn’t good enough for her. They were right.”
Marta rubbed Raleigh’s arm. “It’s not what you come from; it’s where you’re going. People trust you with their cars. They respect you. Keep saving. Things will work out.” She winked. “I just know it.”
He gave her an appreciative smile, but it didn’t reach his heart. Things didn’t work out for him. His dad had been telling him that he was destined for nothing his whole life. He had kept a job all these years, aside from the one he spent in jail. That was a lot more than his father could claim. He’d gained a rep as a kick-ass mechanic, and the go-to guy for high-performance cars in northern Florida, and now beyond. According to Marta, people trusted him. But it was the way Mia looked at him, the way she’d painted his future with strokes of gold and silver, that had made him feel for the first time that he could be somebody. She hadn’t cared that he had nothing, not even a real home. And he’d nearly destroyed her.
He started toward O’Connell, who was already shaking his head. “Not now, kid.” He glanced at his watch. “Time to meet the wife.” He bolted with hardly a glance backward in his haste to get away from Raleigh.
Kid. Even with his shorter hair, clean clothes, and clean hands, he continued to be seen as a kid. Or, worse, as a good-for-nothing loser.
How did Mia see him now?
Raleigh walked out, and came face-to-face with Cassidy, blocking the walkway. Talk about good-for-nothing losers, even if he was in a police uniform and from a rich family.
“Well, well, begging for a loan again?” Cassidy’s upper lip twisted in a taunting smile. “You know they ain’t taking a chance on someone like you.”
Falling Fast (Falling Fast #1) Page 3
