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Traded Page 15

by Tess Thompson


  “What choice do I have?”

  None, unfortunately. “What would cheer you up?”

  “Feeling better.”

  “Fair enough. I’m going to talk to Doc this afternoon and see about trying a different antibiotic. Sometimes infections like these need a different drug to knock them out.”

  “Fine.” Flora closed her eyes.

  Kara got up from the bed. She knew when she was being dismissed.

  “I’ll check on you later, okay?”

  Flora didn’t answer.

  AFTER KARA LEFT FLORA, she called Doc and he agreed to try another antibiotic and promised to call it into the pharmacy within the hour.

  After she hung up, she wandered down to the kitchen, unsettled and tottering on the brink of anxiety. She stood by the picture windows looking out at this new landscape of hers. Or, rather, she floated for a moment—a ghost that could not participate in the physical world. Several times in the past few days she’d felt outside her body, watching a movie about someone who looked and sounded like her, but wasn’t. Dreaming while awake. She was the same person as she’d been before she came here. But without the familiar details of her old existence, combined with the half-truths, she was a tumbleweed in a windy desert. Nothing to hold on to, nothing to impede her endless spinning.

  But no. She would fight. Look at the world just outside these windows!

  The afternoon sun flooded the kitchen and washed the landscape with light. The rich green of firs and pines stretched into the flawless blue of the sky without concern for the past. Soon, when spring came, their branches would grow shiny new needles, lighter in color and bursting with fragrance.

  She was here. This was real. She was real. It was time to grow new needles.

  She made a cup of coffee. Then, she went out to the patio to feel the sun on her face.

  Brody’s property perched a quarter mile above sea level, with a view of the water and shorelines to the left and right, including the public beach at the end of town. Today, she spotted the small black figures of surfers in the distant waters. She wrapped her hands around her warm coffee cup. Although sunny, the temperatures hovered in the low sixties. She squinted as she looked up at the pale blue sky. So, this was the light of the deep mid-winter here in California, not brilliant white like the reflection off the Pennsylvania snow, but translucent and shimmering as if every single thing in the world were possible.

  Behind her, the doors to the patio opened and closed. She turned to see Brody, also with a cup of coffee. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

  “Not at all. I was just taking a little break before starting dinner.”

  “You sound apologetic. You shouldn’t be.” He joined her by the railing. “You’re entitled to a break.” His damp hair and a clean-shaven face hinted at a recent shower. She caught the scent of him: clean skin and shaving cream with a dash of spice from his deodorant. Brody. This was the way he smelled, imprinted on her consciousness. She would know it anywhere now.

  The more she looked at him, the more she saw beyond the severe, masculine structure of his face and the glittering intensity of his eyes. Yes, it was true that his angular cheekbones and square jaw made him appear hard and calculating, frightening even, but the dimple in his chin hinted at his tenderness, like nature had left it as a clue on a treasure map. Her darting glances traveled from his face to his long fingers that wrapped around the entire circumference of a football to the muscles in his arms and shoulders that hurled that same ball sixty yards. She explored his hands with a greedy gaze. Those fingernails, trimmed short with lunulas like perfect half-moons, were all neat and tidy, like the rest of him. Although she could not see them now, she knew that thick calluses etched the pads and heels of his hands. For a second, she imagined what his caress would feel like against her skin.

  This, however, should not be the focus of her thoughts. She must remember her professional duties instead of behaving like a school girl. “I’ve just come from checking on Flora,” she said. “We’re going to try another round of antibiotics. Unfortunately, that won’t do much for her emotional state. I’m afraid my presence makes her feel replaced.”

  Brody rested both elbows on the railing and looked out to the ocean. “If my work were suddenly snatched away, I’d be completely lost.”

  “It’s possible to start over, but it’s hard,” she said.

  “Like you?”

  “Like me.”

  An image of her father’s face during her testimony flashed through her mind. For most of it, he’d stared at the legal pad in front of him. Only once had he lifted his head to look at her with pure hatred in his eyes. He would have killed her right then if he could. Until that moment, she’d not fully believed it. She’d held onto the belief that nothing meant as much to him as his daughter. But all that had been a lie.

  Now, she turned away to hide her face. Breathe. Do not cry in front of Brody.

  “Hey.” His voice softened. “You okay?”

  Kara nodded as she bit the inside of her lip. “I’m fine.”

  “Whatever he did to you, I’d love to kick his ass.”

  “I’d like that too.” She tasted metal from the spot she’d bitten inside her mouth. “Zane told me what happened with Samantha.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  “I had no one to blame but myself. A pretty woman is not always a pretty woman. Where it counts, I mean.”

  “It’s not always obvious. Whether a person’s good or bad.” Her voice shook.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve upset you.” He reached out like he might caress her cheek, but pulled his hand away at the last second.

  She forced a smile. “It’s not your fault. I’m the one who should apologize.”

  He studied her for a moment before speaking. “You suffer from the needing to be perfect disease.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “You know what I mean,” he said.

  “Yes. I do.” She sighed.

  “Imperfections make a person interesting.”

  “Well, then, I must be fascinating,” she said.

  “You are, if you want to know the truth. Not that I see any imperfections—just to be clear.”

  She flushed. “Thanks. I guess.”

  They both laughed.

  He faced out to the horizon with his hands splayed over the railing. “My first instinct was to hide what happened with Samantha from my friends and family. Nothing like guilt and shame to put the brakes on a commitment to transparency. But I had to tell Honor because she handles my business affairs, and this threatened to ruin my reputation and my career. She was great. She is great. All the time.”

  “You’re lucky to have her.”

  “I am. Listen, if you ever need anyone to talk to about whatever, I’m always here. But no pressure. I learned my lesson.”

  She groaned, embarrassed at the memory of her tirade during their interview.

  “My dad told me once that we’re not at the mercy of what happens or doesn’t happen,” he said. “It’s what you learn from hardship that’s important. Flora says God presents challenges so that we grow into the person we’re supposed to be.”

  “I wish the journey to enlightenment didn’t have to be quite this hard,” she said.

  “Amen.”

  “Maybe people like us must be hauled into reality, kicking and screaming.”

  “Like us?” Brody tilted his head to look at her.

  “The good guys. Albeit, dense.”

  He laughed. “Maybe. But look at it this way. Whatever it was that caused you to change your entire life is over and done with. A fresh new start, right here.” He gestured toward the sea. “Like the tide. Out with the old, in with the new.”

  “Technically, it’s the same water.”

  He grinned. “That’s what I get for trying to be profound. But you get my point. Whatever you left behind needs to stay there so you can be present where you are.”

  “I
do get your point.”

  “But not as easy to do as to say.”

  “Right.” She gestured toward the sky. “Before you came out here, I was thinking about how the winter light is so different from back home. Everything’s different, actually. But maybe that’s the point of all this. I’m to embrace the change, accept the new light. Let it change me for the better.”

  “That’s beautiful.” He drew closer, near enough she could see where a quarter inch spot on his chin had eluded the razor. “You’re beautiful.”

  Her legs shook with the same tempo of her wildly beating heart. He stared at her mouth. She dared not breathe.

  “So beautiful,” he said. Suddenly, as if a shock surged through his body, he recoiled and stepped away from her. The heat between them vanished. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry, Kara. I can’t believe I said that. Please, forgive me. I don’t want to be one of those guys.”

  “Those guys?”

  “The type that disrespects women—that think they can have anyone they want simply because they’re rich and powerful. I’ve seen so many over the years, and it disgusts me.”

  “Oh my gosh, I know you’re not like that, Brody.” She put her hand on his forearm. What was that feeling? Electricity? She withdrew her hand. “Please, don’t think anything of it. We just got wrapped up in the moment.”

  He stared at the spot on his arm she had touched. “It won’t happen again. I have some things to take care of in town, so I’d better scoot.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  “I’ll talk to you later.”

  She wanted to ask him where he was going and for how long and would he be home for dinner. But he was already gone, as if the intimacy of their conversation had been only in her imagination. She turned back to the blue sea. Loneliness swept over her with a force as strong as the tide.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Brody

  Brody drove into town with seventies music blaring through the car’s speakers. Kyle had sent a group text earlier to say he was in town overnight, so they’d all agreed to meet up for dinner. Fortunately, he had someplace to go, or he might have embarrassed himself further.

  What in God’s name was wrong with him? The answer was simple: Kara Eaton. She disturbed him. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until all the hurt inside her vanished. It wasn’t just her fit body or beautiful smile or those brown eyes that made his insides turn to jelly. It was her innate goodness that, despite her secrets, could not be hidden. And, the way she listened and how empathetic and level-headed she was in her approach to anything or anyone. He loved their banter back and forth. She was ridiculously easy to talk to, and she talked to him, not the famous quarterback, but the real him. If only he could hold her until all her troubles dissipated into the fibers of his strong muscles. He would wrap her into his embrace and whisper into her ear that he would take care of whatever troubles haunted her.

  For the first time in his life, he knew with certainty that his physical strength was worth something besides athletic prowess. He was strong. Kara needed strength.

  But no. Not from him. Never from him. He couldn’t give her what she needed.

  An hour later, he sat by the window at The Oar with the other Dogs.

  Jackson leaned back in his chair and nodded, like a professor about to hand over a grade. “What’s going on with you tonight, Brody?”

  “Me? Nothing.”

  “You’ve said about three words in the last hour,” Zane said.

  “I think I know,” Jackson said.

  “Me too,” Zane said.

  “I don’t.” Kyle poured them all a beer from the pitcher on the table.

  “It’s Kara,” Zane said. “Isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. She’s driving me insane,” Brody said.

  “I knew it,” Zane said.

  “We knew it,” Jackson said.

  “I didn’t.” Kyle looked around the table. “Wait, did you sleep with her?”

  “Of course not. Kyle, can’t you ever think of anything but sex?” Brody asked.

  “Hey, I was just asking,” Kyle said.

  “What’s the problem exactly? Kara’s awesome. And she’s perfect for you,” Zane said. “And don’t bring up the football curse. We all know that’s bull.”

  They did?

  “Yeah, dude, we all know you want a wife and family,” Kyle said.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Denial, man, it’s not just a river in Africa,” Kyle said.

  Kyle could be a smug pain in the ass sometimes. “Have you forgotten my Samantha season?” Brody asked. “That happened.”

  “Whatever,” Kyle said. “You had a bad season. It had nothing to do with a woman. It’s your own head. You get in your own way sometimes. On and off the football field.”

  “Your dad had just died,” Jackson said softly. “It was a bad time for you.”

  “Made worse by that conniving bitch,” Zane said. “But that’s no reason to pass up an amazing woman.”

  “She is the most amazing person. In every way. So smart and pretty and capable. She’s somehow convinced Flora to let go of her duties.”

  “I didn’t think that was possible,” Jackson said.

  “Exactly. And we have so much to talk about. I could listen to her talk all day long. I linger in the kitchen in the morning just so I can make her coffee. At night, I sit there and watch her cook and we talk about everything. I even went to Zumba with her.”

  “Zumba? Wow. You have do have it bad.” Zane grinned. “I knew it from the first time I introduced you. I could see a spark.”

  “So, what’s the problem?” Jackson asked. “You always find a problem.”

  “She’s hiding something. A secret,” Brody said.

  “A secret? Sounds a little dramatic,” Kyle said.

  “She refuses to tell me anything about her past,” Brody said. “Or why she came here.”

  “So what?” Kyle shrugged his shoulders with an evasive dart of his eyes toward the ceiling. “Sometimes there are things in our past we want to leave there.”

  “Except, what if she’s in danger? What if she puts us in danger?” Brody asked.

  Jackson nodded. “It’s a valid point.”

  “You could hire someone to investigate her.” Kyle tapped the cardboard coaster in an impatient staccato rhythm on the table.

  “I could, I guess. It feels invasive,” Brody said.

  “You called her references, didn’t you?” Jackson asked.

  “Of course. They were stellar.” Great character. Excellent work ethic. Skilled medical professional. One of the references quoted from a former performance review that she was unflappable under pressure.

  “Brody, sometimes you don’t see what’s right in front of you,” Zane said.

  “Unless it’s a football,” Kyle said.

  “Don’t let your ambition or your suspicions keep you from a good woman,” Zane said. “Her past has no significance, if you really think about it.”

  “Seriously, dude, why do you make problems when there aren’t any? The spark doesn’t happen every day.” Kyle tossed the coaster across the table. It landed in Brody’s lap. He folded it in half under the table. “Screw secrets.”

  “What’s the deal, man?” Zane play-punched Kyle on the shoulder. “You have a secret you want to keep hidden?”

  Other than a tick of a muscle in his left cheek, Kyle went perfectly still. For a loaded second, no one said anything. When Kyle finally spoke, the tremor in his voice betrayed what his stoic expression hid. “Shit went down when I was a kid. That’s all.” The corners of his mouth lifted into the saddest smile Brody had ever seen. “So, I’m messed up when it comes to women. No big deal. Totally different than what’s going on with Kara.”

  “How do you know that?” Brody asked.

  “Because I wasn’t attracted to her,” Kyle said. “I’m only attracted to women who are as messed up as me. It’s a radar thing.”

  Zane wip
ed the rim of his glass with his index finger and nodded. “I get that.”

  “If you want to know about Kara’s past, there are ways,” Kyle said. “Trust me, though, you might not want to find out the truth.”

  They knew Kyle’s mother had left when he was a kid and never returned. Other than that, when it came to his past, Kyle kept it to himself.

  Jackson had squished a napkin into a string. He tied it into a bow. They all gulped from their pints, as an uncomfortable silence settled over the table.

  Honor and Violet came through the front door of the restaurant. Honor waved.

  “Don’t tell me you invited Honor?” Zane asked Brody.

  Brody didn’t have time to figure out what that meant because Honor had bounced over to the table by then.

  “Hey guys. Mind if we join you?”

  “We insist.” Kyle, transformed from his momentarily lapse into a real person back to a rake worthy of Brody’s mother’s English dramas, rose to his feet. He shook Violet’s hand, lingering a second longer than he should. “I’m Kyle.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Violet blushed and fiddled with the silver bangles up her left arm. With her long cotton skirt and dark blond hair that hung right above her collarbones in messy waves, Violet was a little hippie chick and a little rock and roll.

  Honor was all rock and roll in a black dress that fell an inch below her perky bottom. A powdering of silver glitter brought extra attention to her plunging neckline. Brody smiled as Jackson teased Honor about her outfit. “Given the temperature tonight, perhaps a warmer outfit might’ve been in order?”

  Honor laughed and lifted a leg to show them knee-high boots that almost reached the hem of her tight black dress. “That’s what these are for. Anyway, I run hot.”

  “Yes, you do,” Kyle said.

  “Stop flirting, Kyle. You’ll give me a big head,” Honor said.

  At the same moment, both Zane and Kyle spoke:

  “Your ego needs no further encouragement,” Zane said.

  “Stop flirting with me, Honor. You know I can’t take it,” Kyle said.

  Jackson had grabbed a few extra chairs for the ladies, while Zane left to get more glasses and another pitcher of beer. Conflicted over this sabotage of their night, Brody happened to glance at the front door just as Kara walked through. Crap, crap, crap. This was not the plan for tonight.

 

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