by Jenna Gunn
“I used to live here.” I say as I curl a twenty-five-pound dumbbell. “You might know my brother-in-law. He works out here a lot.”
He narrows his eyes. “Who’s that?”
“Tyson Archer.”
“You married to one of them guys.”
So I fib a little, “Bishop. Do you know the Archers?”
He chuckles. “Who doesn’t?”
I shrug, and go on lifting. Problem solved. He moves on to chat up the other girl. The weights feel good in my hands. Lifting outside in the sunshine feels even better. I knock out a dozen pull ups, then flip upside down to do crunches.
I’m counting out loud, “twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two,” when a man catches my eye. Tilting my head I try to make sense of what I’m seeing. He laughs. “See something you didn’t expect?”
“Franco? Oh, my god.”
I drop down, land on my feet. “I never expected that.”
Franco opens his arms. I grab him and squeal when he spins me around. “It’s really good to see you,” I say, a little out of breath.
He steps back. “You look good, Mia. I see you’re working out too.”
“I am. What brings you here?”
“Same. I was exploring some of California and knew they had an outdoor gym here. Remember? I came here a few years ago to visit when we had a break from the show schedule.”
Frowning, I say, “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“Mia Cataldi, I tried. You didn’t answer your phone.”
I scrunch my nose. “Oh. Um. Sorry. I’ve been busy. It really wasn’t anything personal, I promise.”
He smiles, “I’m sure, it’s no problem.”
“You look like you’re dressed to work out now.”
He bows, “I am. Shall we?”
I smile, “I’d love that. We can provide some entertainment too.” I wink.
“As usual,” he says as he slips on his signature wrist sweat bands with the Italian colors woven into the Terry cloth.
“No purple ones today?” I joke.
“I only wear those for you when we do a show. These,” He holds up his wrists, these are my true colors.”
I laugh, “But I like the purple ones best. Or the pink ones, they match my hair.”
Franco waves me on. “You just like that I don’t drop you because I don’t have sweaty hands.”
“That is a true statement. Now where shall we begin?”
“I’ll warm up then we can tackle that pole, what do you think?”
I dance around with glee. “You always know how to make me happy.”
He laughs and I go back to my crunches.
Ten minutes later I’m upside down on the pole, one leg hooked around the metal, and one pointing out. Franco spins his way up the pole and suspends himself just below me. I lower myself until my arm is hooked around his thigh and slowly lower myself until I’m hanging only from his leg. He spins us around and my body arcs out into the air. Him holding the pole, me holding his thigh, our bodies forming one long beautiful arc.
He swings me up and catches both of my hands. With a burst of power, he flips me backward and sends me high into a flip as I spot my landing on the ground.
I laugh. God it feels good to fly again.
Chapter Eighteen
I almost choke on my sandwich.
The binoculars are in my hand before I stop gagging on ham and cheese.
There’s a crowd at the beach gym. Some guy and some girl are doing something…
Acrobats are not common in Lynn’s Cove.
A knowing hits my gut. It’s Mia. I’m sure before I even get the binos focused.
What the hell?
When the lenses focus, Mia is hanging off some dickhead’s leg, swinging around in a big circle, ten feet in the air.
She drops to the ground, and the man slides down the pole to join her. They share a laugh. That’s when I see his face for the first time.
I spit the word, “Franco,” Out in the middle of a whole bunch of other words that aren’t fit for the workplace.
Carter stands up from his captain’s chair and walks over to stand next to me. “Okay, you’ve got my attention now. “Who is Franco, and what did he do to elicit that Grammy worthy string of curse words?”
“Franco is my wife’s slimy acrobatic partner.”
“That statement made no sense to me.”
I glance at Carter, he’s got his own binoculars pressed to his eyes. “The girl on the pole?”
I lift the binos again. “That’s Mia.”
“Dude, I didn’t know you have a wife.”
“I don’t.”
“You might need to take some time off. I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be smoking crack and working on rescue duty.”
“Goddamn. He’s got his hands all over her.”
“Uh, yeah. He does.”
“Fuck.” I groan. Franco’s doing some kind of weird shit where he flips upside down and latches his legs around Mia’s waist. “I’m going to break his legs.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t do that—”
I don’t hear the rest of Carter’s words. I’m on my way down the beach at an angry stomping clip with a work radio in one hand and a rescue buoy in the other.
My vision is fire engine red when I storm past tower two.
“Bishop! Bishop Archer. Hold on.”
When I glance back, my brother Brandon is running toward me. Great. “Did Carter call you?”
“Yep. What the hell is going on?”
I don’t slow my pace.
He sees what I’ve been seeing. “Whoa. Okay. Let’s hold on a minute.” Brandon grabs my arm. I shrug him off. He grabs me again. “Hang on now. Don’t lose your head.”
He drags me to a stop, his meaty hand around my bicep. “Brandon. I’ve broken your nose before. And unless you want me to do it again, you better let go.”
“Hold on, hothead. You might want to hear what I have to say. If you really want to win Mia again, you should rethink what you’re about to do.”
I jerk my arm away again. The radio squawks. “Bishop, pick up. Over.”
God bless. It’s Bryce calling from the main headquarters tower.
Brandon says, “Take a deep breath man.”
“I swear working with you bunch of jerks is starting to piss me off.”
Brandon inserts his tall ass right in my line of sight. “Fine, be pissed at me. Punch me in the nose if you have to. But I will hit you back. But don’t take this out on Mia. Whatever’s going on over there is happening in public, and if you play your game right, you can get a lot more than by storming over there and bashing that guy into the asphalt.”
I take another breath.
Brandon gets right in front of my eyes. “Come on, take it down a notch.”
“Bishop! Pick up. Over.”
I grit my teeth. “What?” I snap into the radio. I don’t even follow protocol and say “Over.”
Bryce’s voice is tight and crackly, the first because he’s mad, the second because he’s on a mobile unit now—undoubtedly heading my way.
Great. Two Archers against one.
I can see Mia and Franco clearly now. No magnification needed. And she looks happy. Happier than I’ve seen her since she came to town. They are laughing and talking and practicing some kind of hand to hand thing.
It galls the fuck out of my guts.
Bryce looks mad—moves like he’s mad as he works his way toward me. He snarls his anger at me when he gets within reach. “Bishop, you idiot. I don’t know what’s about to go down, but you confronting that man on the beach is not going to do you any good with that woman.”
“Jesus, what, are you guys on some kind of script? You sound just like him.”
Brandon clasps his hand on my shoulder. “Bro, that’s because we’re speaking logic here.”
I bare my teeth. “I’m going over there.”
Bryce nods, “I get that. Just don’t go over there with murder in your eyes
. Can you get a handle on yourself? If not, Brandon and I are big enough to wrestle you down and drag you in that tower. I’m pretty sure there’s a rope in there that will do just fine for tying you up for a few hours.”
I huff out a breath. “Get out of my way.” I say the words with a lot less heat as their words start to penetrate my anger fogged brain.
“Are you sure you’re ready to be civilized?”
Brandon laughs, “Civilized. Now that’s funny.”
I stretch my neck from side to side letting my body ease down from fight mode to something a lot more reasonable. “I’m better.”
“Good. Now, I’m going with you.” Bryce says.
“Let’s get moving then.”
As we walk away, Brandon calls out. “I’m just a radio call away if you need me.” Bryce tosses his hand up.
I stop in the middle of the crowd and watch as Franco pitches Mia up and she lands on his hands “Beautiful, that was just perfect,” he calls as he watches her above his head.
He counts, and then thrusts her up. She flips and lands with her feet in his hands again. Jesus, shouldn’t they be using mats or something?
I don’t dare say anything for fear of breaking their concentration. After another flip, he drops her back down into his arms. As he sets her feet on the ground, he’s smiling in her eyes… like really smiling into her eyes.
It hits me like a cement truck driving right smack into the middle of my chest. He’s in love with her.
Bryce grunts next to me.
“I saw that too.” I say under my breath.
Mia talks to Franco for a second, then they start up their next thing. He places his hands on her waist from behind, she bounces a few times on her toes, and then he pitches her up. She lands on his shoulders. One of her legs on each side of his head. She finds her balance, then hops up to stand on his shoulders. That’s when her eyes collide with mine. She teeters for a second.
Franco’s watching her, looking right up her shorts. Mia glances around nervously. “Let me down, please.”
Franco drops her to the ground immediately. His voice is full of concern as I approach. “What’s wrong?”
Mia nods toward me. “Franco, this is Bishop. You’ve met before, but just for a few moments.”
I extend my hand, which I suddenly wish was a poisonous snake.
We shake, and it’s definitely a male pissing match of who’s got the better grip. I might not swing around on a trapeze, but I’m no pansy.
Bryce clears his throat and I realize we’ve been locked in our exchange for far too long.
“Franco, this is Bishop’s brother, Bryce.”
Their shake is much faster, but I think just as firm.
“I didn’t realize you were in town.”
“Just got here today,” Franco says in his heavily accented English.
Mia flutters nervously, pulling on her braid, “I was so surprised when Franco showed up. It was great to have someone to work out with.”
“I bet it was.”
Mia looks from me to Franco, “We were just about to finish up here. I’ve got to get back to Bruno soon.”
I nod.
Franco looks me over, “I’m a bit surprised to see you as well, Mr. Archer. I wasn’t sure if you’d be in the picture any longer. It is kind of you to offer our dear Mia and her son a place during their time of need.”
“He’s my son too.”
Franco’s dark eyes glint. “But of course he is.”
Dick head’s tone grates me like a barbwire fence being dragged down my back. I have more than half a mind to plant my big ass foot high in the middle of his sweaty chest.
Bryce smacks me on the back, snapping me out of my daydream. “Go ahead and sign off for the day. I’ll take your radio so you can walk home with Mia.”
“Thanks, Brother.” I hold the radio to my mouth, “Bishop Archer signing off for the day. Over.”
Dispatch responds immediately. “Roger. Bishop Archer off duty. Sending Jeremy to tower three for the rest of the shift. Over.”
I pass the radio to Bryce, and hand him the rescue buoy. I’m officially off duty. Which technically would be better if I got into a throw down.
But I know why Bryce did what he did. It’s so I can get Mia away from the slime ball.
“Mia, where are you things?” I ask.
Her eyes are nervous as she points to the far side of the gym. “Thanks, Franco. I’ve got to go.”
He watches her walk toward her bag, then his eyes swing back to me. “She’s didn’t deserve what you did.”
I don’t give him the courtesy of a reply, I just fucking fry him with a look that says you better shut your mouth or the consequences might be more than you bargained for.
When Mia’s got her t-shirt on and slides into her flip-flops I join her, lacing my fingers in hers. We walk casually and in silence, leaving Franco right where he was.
As we start to climb the hill toward the house, Mia finally speaks. “Bishop. You freaked me out back there.”
“Why’s that?”
“The look in your eye… I didn’t know what was about to happen.”
“He’s not welcome here.”
She gasps. “Bishop, he’s my partner. We’ve been friends for years. He’s just passing through.”
“He’s in love with you.”
She stops so fast her hand slips out of mine. “You’re crazy.”
“No. I’m not.” I square off with her. “I saw it with my own eyes.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “He is not.”
“Mia. I’m a man, and I can tell you when you see that look on a man’s face, there’s no fucking denying it. That man is in love with you.”
She brushes past me, “He is not. He’s just a good friend. He cares about me.”
I catch up to her. “Mia, you’re ignorant if you think you can have that kind of relationship with a man and for it to be impossible for him to be in love with you.”
“I’m not ignorant. Or crazy.” She blows at a stay lock of her hair. “Now stop.”
“You need to ask Bryce, if you don’t believe me.”
She’s storming up the hill now. “I’ll do no such thing.”
I catch her hand, “Mia. How much time have you spent with him since the show went out of business?”
“I don’t know… most of it, I guess.”
“Mia, who was with you when you delivered Bruno.”
She opens her mouth, then snaps it shut.
I grab her shoulders and turn her toward me. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
She curls her lips, her eyes lock with mine. She nods.
I try to swallow. But I can’t. I might never swallow again.
“He was there with me.” She says finally, and I think I might throw up on the spot. I growl. I drop her hand and shove my hands into my hair. The pain in my heart is so searing it burns a hole right through my back.
I suddenly hear Bryce’s voice in my head, like he’s some mystical relationship coach. Step careful now, don’t push her away with your hurt or anger.
Drawing a big shaky breath. I try to find my balance. Is that even possible when your guts have been spilled on the ground?
Think about the future. I have her and he doesn’t. She came home to me to help her raise our son. We have a chance.
If I don’t mess this up. I take another breath. “Mia.” I manage. It’s just one word. One painful word.
She comes to me then. Wraps her arms around me. My arms fall away from my head and curve around her. She’s here. I’m here. We’re going forward. We’re going to have a future or I’m going to die trying.
Chapter Nineteen
Bishop held me extra hard last night. And this morning when he left…he just had this look in his eyes.
I’m not sure what it meant.
Uncertainty?
Dread?
Conviction?
I drive to the community center for work with an uneasy feeling in my gut
and a headache that’s starting to pound. It’s that kind of headache that comes right up from your neck and feels like corkscrews in your eyeballs.
Bishop’s words about Franco disturb me. And I know that’s a big part of what is dogging him too. I know it would me if I thought one of Bishop’s coworkers was in love with him.
Franco doesn’t love me. It’s impossible. He’s never made a move on me. He’s been a warm, friendly, caring, gentleman since the day I met him.
I would have known.
To think we have that to deal with on top of the falsified evidence, and the fact that I kept the baby a secret is almost more than I can bear this morning.
The headache ebbs and flows all day. Revived with new fuel each time I think about how screwed up our relationship is now.
The shining light in my day is the way Bruno reacts when sees me as I approach the daycare center. He squeals and waves his little arms around wildly. I peck on the glass of the day care center, letting the staff know I’m finished working. Eleanor, the coordinator brings my little man to the door. He’s so excited to tell me something in his mishmash words.
Eleanor hands him over. “How was your day?”
“Better now. But I am starting to learn my way around at least. I even managed to get some of the four year olds to listen to me today when I was helping teach tumbling. And I got to take two classes for aerial silks, so that was really fun.”
She laughs. “It will get easier. Well while you were working, Bruno’s had a good time. He’s been playing with a new friend. Her name is Saylor. I think that’s what he’s trying to say.”
I’m so happy to see that he had a good day. “You made a new friend, huh?” He pats me on the face, reaches for my hair, which I try to keep away from him. He loves to pull on my braid. “Let’s get going. We need to grocery shop for Animal Crackers. Thanks Eleanor, we’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds great.”
When I get to the grocery store I realize I’ve hardly even seen the passing scenery. I try to snap myself out of my circling thoughts. Bruno, of course doesn’t have a care in the world. He decides he wants to hold a grapefruit while we shop. Probably because it looks like a ball. Everything round is a ball to Bruno these days. I’m just hoping he doesn’t throw it. so I keep one hand at the ready the whole time we are in the store. By the time I’m done I feel tired, the day catching up with me.