When I Fall

by Tamara Morgan

  He didn’t know what else to do. What had once been nobility was quickly becoming farce. The sexual push-and-pull with Becca had made sense before. He wanted but didn’t take, put her well-being before his own and found satisfaction enough in leaving it there. But somewhere in the past few weeks, her well-being and his well-being had become intertwined.

  He knew it. He felt it. It was branded on his soul.

  “Is one of my options sexual assault?” he asked, looking carefully at her hand. A few more inches to the left, and he wasn’t sure either of them would leave this room alive.

  She laughed, unaware, as she always was, how fine a line she walked with him. “Yep. The idea of you being unable to fight back has had me worked up all day. What would you say to a nice, warm sponge bath for two?”

  He shouldn’t answer her. He shouldn’t even acknowledge that she’d spoken. “I’d say you’re heartless.”

  “Maybe.” She averted her gaze and shrugged, causing the thin pink strap of her tank to slip down her arm. He indulged in one finger traveling the slope of her shoulder, under silk and over it, to put her back to rights. “But I’d be good at it. I can be thorough when it comes to the sensitive bits, and I’m not afraid to get wet.”

  She was goading him now. He cleared his throat, forcing his tongue to uncleave from the roof of his mouth. “So far, I count sexual assault, a sponge bath and what looks like a tea party among my options. Am I missing any?”

  “No, that about covers it.” She lifted her hand from his leg, allowing blood and oxygen to begin flowing again. “Although it’s not a tea party I have in mind. I want to read your leaves.”

  “Nope. Nuh-uh. Not going to happen.” Jake gauged the distance from the bed to the door, his entire side throbbing at the idea of making the attempt. He might be willing to lie here and accept her sexual overtures, but there was no way he was letting her near his future. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to know what it contained. “Take your heathen beverage and go spin fortunes for Serena or Amy. They probably love that stuff.”

  “Suit yourself.” Without waiting for him to respond, Becca got to her feet and carefully moved the strap back down her shoulder. All his hard work, all his self-control—she was swiping it away with one flick of her wrist. Her movements were designed to taunt, and as the silken material slumped to one side, he could make out the hint of her breast preparing to emerge. “I like this option better anyway.”

  “I haven’t picked yet,” he protested, his voice rough. “Maybe I was going to go with the bath option.”

  She reached to the other strap and ran her thumb slowly under the band. “I have to be naked for either one. These pajamas are silk. I’m not ruining them with all those bubbles. I intend to work up a very substantial lather.”

  Jake drew in a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, as if taking her out of his line of sight would make this easier. If anything, the loss of one sense only heightened the rest. He could hear the soft exhalation of her breathing, smell the herbal tea that wafted up from the bedside. And he could taste her. He could taste the salty-sweet essence of her skin, feel the way her entire body loosened under his lips and tongue.

  His cock shifted, making up his mind for him.

  He sat up with the full intention of making good on his baser urges. He wasn’t feeling pity or protective or as if he might regret his actions later. The only thing he wanted was for Becca to know that the choice was her. For sponge bath or tea leaves, New York or Connecticut, richer or poorer—it was always her.

  But his body screamed a warning. A broken rib was one of those things that always sounded minor, a useless body part that could be easily dispensed with, but the truth was the exact opposite. He couldn’t even breathe without feeling the limitations of his body. Sex with Becca would bring more pain than pleasure—and he was pretty sure she’d known that well before she’d slipped in here with a silver tray containing his fate.

  “Fine. You win. Read the tea leaves.” When she didn’t respond right away, he focused on her expression, which looked more starkly desolate than any other he’d seen on her yet. He blinked and it was gone, so quickly he wasn’t sure it had been there are at all.

  “Why aren’t you gloating?” he asked, concerned. “It seems like you should be gloating.”

  “You were supposed to pick the sponge bath.”

  Ah. Sexual frustration. That would account for it. He knew the feeling. “If it helps, it was a pretty close run.”

  “But never close enough.” She pulled her strap back up. Not much more of her was covered up, and despite his soreness, he felt the keen spike of desire move through him again. This was the different kind, though—the kind that sprang from her most natural actions and movements, the kind she seemed totally unaware of.

  It was the much more dangerous kind.

  “One of these days, I’m going to catch you by surprise and you won’t be able to help yourself.”

  He couldn’t help but smile at her casual confidence. “Big words from a small person. Want to put a wager on it?”

  “Nope. If you ever give in, I’ll have already won.” She didn’t elaborate. With a none-too-gentle push on the leg, she forced him to scoot over so she could sit. “Now—I’m using green tea, because it has some good anti-inflammatory side effects, which I figured might help with the pain.”

  “You’re reading medicinal tea? Doesn’t that mess up the results?”

  “It’s not a magic trick, Jake. There aren’t rules.”

  “Fine. Pour. But you should probably know that I hate green tea. It tastes like fungus.”

  Becca rolled her eyes as she got their things ready, grateful for the distraction of the ritual. She’d come in here without much of a purpose, but at the sight of him leaning against the headboard, his bare torso wrapped in a white band, looking exhausted and in pain, she felt an ache in her heart that clarified things. She wanted him to choose sex with her because he couldn’t go another day without it. She wanted him to choose a sponge bath because he trusted her enough to take care of him as well as he’d been taking care of her.

  But all he’d done was reluctantly accept his fate. That was all she was to him.

  She stifled her sigh and put a pinch of tea at the bottom of each teacup before pouring a generous amount of hot water over the top. Jake eyed the proffered cup doubtfully but accepted and took a deep drink.

  “Slow down.” She checked his hand. “Give it a few minutes to steep. The leaves need time to unfurl.”

  He didn’t appear convinced. “Why is this so important to you anyway? You’ve been trying to get your hands on my fortunes since that first morning.”

  “I’ve been trying to get my hands lots of places,” she corrected him, looking pointedly at his groin in its encased cotton pajamas. “Maybe I’m greedy.”

  He adjusted his position on the bed, moving his bandaged upper half with more care than usual. She hadn’t seen underneath the wrap yet, but if his stiffness was any indication, he was in quite a bit of pain.

  “What are you hoping you’ll find? Evidence of my gilded soul? Evidence of the exact opposite?”

  “It doesn’t matter what information I find. It matters what you do with it.” She gestured for him to go ahead and finish his tea. It was still hot, and she sipped hers carefully, watching Jake over the top of her cup. He grimaced as the last of it went down.

  “There. Now what?”

  “Now is when I ask if there’s any specific information you seek.”

  His brow came up.

  “About your love life, about your family, about your job. The usual stuff.”

  “Do I have to?” he asked with a sigh. She let the question answer itself. “Right. Sorry. Let’s see...you’re my love life right now, so you know how well that’s going. My dad has yet to say a word to me about physically assault
ing a man on our property, so the family side of things is grim. And I imagine the job situation is directly related to the family stuff. That about covers it. Life holds no mystery for me anymore. I’m done.”

  “Jake—humor me. Please.” She tried to keep the stricken note out of her voice, but it didn’t work. And she didn’t dare look up for the full minute that passed, aware that he was watching her closely.

  “Okay. I want to hear about the love life one.”

  Her eyes flew to his, startled.

  “What?” he grumbled. “You said I had to pick one.”

  She nodded and focused her attention back on the cups. It wouldn’t do to read too much into this situation. With Jake, what she saw was what she got. “Go ahead and tip it upside down on this cloth, but do it gently. You don’t want to jostle the leaves too much.”

  “God forbid.”

  She set her own cup aside, determined to take a look at it later, when Jake wasn’t around to witness the results. She expected to see quite a bit of heartache inside her fortune. That was what happened when you fell in love with a man who didn’t love you back. Your heart ached.

  “Okay,” she said as soon as the tea had enough time to drain and the leaves to settle. She flipped his cup. “Now we look.”

  She felt his breath still as she made her initial perusal, an action that was pretty typical as far as her readings went. For some reason, everyone seemed to expect neon lights and firm answers. When it was clear she meant to study the cup for a minute, he resumed a more normal pattern of breathing. “You see this snake right here? And don’t you dare say it looks like a tea leaf. I know it does. Pretend you’re a kid again, making animal shapes out of clouds.”

  “Sure. If we’re playing the cloud game, I can see how that might be a snake.”

  “Okay. Well, a snake signals danger of some kind.”

  “My love life is in danger? Is it too late to change my question?”

  “Yes.” She tilted the cup and frowned. “A snake can also be an enemy, but that’s not always the case. And this particular snake breaks up that long line of tea leaves around the rim, see? It’s breaking up a journey of some kind. So your path to love is threatened by danger or an enemy.”

  “Well, I did drive all the way here from Manhattan. And that cabbie did almost try to run us off the road. It was touch-and-go there for a while.”

  She stifled her laughter, unwilling to let him derail her. “That’s a pretty literal interpretation. Think along more metaphoric lines.” She moved closer, feeling the warmth of his body at her side. She was unwilling to let that derail her either. “Okay, now here—those dots scattered at the handle? Those signal wealth, which makes sense, given your family circumstances.”

  “I suppose that’s a comfort.”

  “But this—this is where you need to worry.” She pointed at a cluster near the center. “It’s shackles.”

  “Shackles? No way. That’s a kangaroo.”

  “It’s not a kangaroo. There’s nothing remotely marsupial about it. They’re definitely shackles. Chains.” Her heart sank. Chains in a love life prediction would be a man like Jake’s worst nightmare. “These bind you to your fate irrevocably.”

  “You just yelled at me for being too literal. I don’t think that’s a very creative reading of shackles.” Jake took the cup from her hand and shook it. A few of the smaller clumps of tea moved around, but the major points stayed intact. “And I still say it’s a kangaroo. What does a kangaroo mean?”

  She bit her lip, thinking. “It could be one of several things. Preparing to jump an obstacle is a popular one, but some people think it signals contentment at home.”

  “Yep.” He handed her the cup. “It’s definitely a kangaroo.”

  She turned it clockwise. Was that a kangaroo? No. It was definitely handcuffs.

  “So this is how you make life decisions?” he asked—not unkindly, but with a quiet air of contemplation. “Riches are guaranteed, but a dangerous enemy impedes my path to love. If I want to overcome the obstacle, I have to make like a kangaroo and bounce my way over it. That’s it?”

  “It wasn’t a kangaroo.”

  “It was, and I fail to see how your way of making life decisions is better than mine.”

  “I didn’t say it was better. I said it wasn’t worse.”

  He narrowed his eyes and studied her. It was the kind of gaze that made it difficult to breathe, skimming over her outside parts and zeroing in where she didn’t want him to see. “So you want me to use this as a basis for deciding what I should do next? To complete my journey?”

  “I wanted you to opt for the sponge bath.”

  He paused, a lock of hair falling as his brow wrinkled with concentration. She leaned close and ran her fingers over his forehead, lingering on the worry lines, smoothing them with her touch. His skin felt overheated and alive, and she wanted to keep her movements going so much it was a physical ache.

  He held still long enough for her to complete her ministration. “I’m trying here, Becca. I know it’s not easy for you to look at me and see anything but the cruel, overbearing son of a bitch I’ve always been, but I’m trying to see things from your point of view. You have to believe that.”

  She reached for the necklace. “Does that mean we can be done pretending now?”

  His jaw settled firmly, the chiseled line of his mouth so tight it could crack. He placed a hand on hers, almost over her heart. “No. Leave it on. You promised you would.”

  “You’re only making it worse,” she said, despairing. “Every day that goes by, every family member we win over, every man you chase out of a tree for me, the harder it will be to bring this to an end.”

  “I’m not worried about that part.” He held her hand firm. “I can handle the family fallout. You have my word on that. Whatever happens, this is on me, and I’ll make sure everyone knows it.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Stop arguing.”

  “I get a say in this. It’s my life too.”

  “I know it is.” He spoke so quietly she wasn’t sure he knew it at all. “But if I were to ask you to sleep in the guest room down the hall tonight because of my injury, what would you do? How would you sleep?”

  Not nearly as well—and he knew it. But that wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t get to hold her hostage because she’d come to see him as a glorified teddy bear. That was her fault, and she was sorry she’d let herself use Jake’s attention as an alternative to working through things on her own, but the reality was clear.

  Jake wasn’t going to be around forever. He was being incredibly patient and kind with her, but that was only because he hadn’t fixed her yet. Jake was a man who arranged his suits neatly in his closet according to cut and color. He ate his food in a clockwise rotation, starting at the top of the plate and working his way around. He loved to gamble—not because he needed the money, but because he liked to sit down and learn each person’s tell, to best them in a game against themselves.

  He was neat and he was careful and he didn’t like it when the things in his life were disorganized. And she was disorganized. She was a hot freaking mess.

  “I’m not ready to let you go yet, Becca. How about we leave it at that?” His hand lay flat against her sternum, stilling the motions of her heart slamming painfully into her chest wall.

  She took a page from Jake’s playbook and held herself firm, watching and waiting to see what came next. Let her be more than a project to push to perfection. Let him offer to help her because it was what he wanted, not because he thought it was what she needed. Let him promise to heal her by spending every night in her bed for the rest of her life.

  Nothing came. He outwaited her.

  “People are going to start being hurt by this, Jake.” People that included her. People that were especially her.

>   “Give me two weeks. Let’s see this engagement party happen, and then we’ll call it off.”

  “Why? What’s going to happen at the engagement party? What’s going to change between now and then?”

  He smiled. “Apparently, I’ve got to find a way to demolish the snake in my path.”

  Oh, hell. What had she done?

  “And I will demolish it, even if I have to be a kangaroo to do it.”

  “Will you stop with the stupid kangaroo? It was a lump. Make-believe.”

  He made a soft tsking sound. “How dare you—reading tea leaves isn’t a joke. Someone wise once told me that it’s all about taking reality and turning it into something more.”

  She took it back. She took it all back. She wasn’t prepared for this reality any longer.

  “Besides—I kind of like this new proactive Jake. You wanted me to stop sitting around and waiting for other people to do things. Well, you got your wish. I’m taking care of this, Becca. I’m taking care of you.”

  Her throat hurt with a thousand unspoken words, but she nodded and let him leave things there. It was just a ring. And just an engagement party. And just a few weeks. She’d withstood greater, recovered from worse, got back up and danced in the face of so much more.

  Jake wouldn’t break her.

  But damn, he was certainly giving it his all.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Everybody hold that pose. And one, two, three.”

  The flash of a camera going off a few feet away set an autonomic response flowing through Becca’s veins—one that warned her to run, panic, act out in ways that would give them something to talk about for months. It was a grab bag of reactions, all of them familiar in their own way.

  Too bad none of them fit the scenario. As Greg repeated the command several times, holding his camera as best he could with one arm, Becca had to remind herself to smile and relax.

  Right. Relax. While she was posed with the rest of the Montgomery family under a massive oak tree, all of them strategically arranged around bales of hay and dressed in the coordinated colors of fall. She had on a red sweater and jeans, and there were cowboy boots on her feet. She’d never worn cowboy boots anywhere but city streets and costume parties. The crunchy grass felt odd underfoot.