If I Stay

by Tamara Morgan

  He blinked, hoping that maybe the way she affected him—like a sledgehammer to the gut—was a trick of the light, a side effect of the furious workout Jake had been subjecting him to since they set foot on the volleyball court. But when he opened his eyes again, there was no mistaking it.

  He wanted to touch her skin, to feel her come to life beneath him. More than all the other things he longed for right now—a fast car, a fresh start, an ice cold beer—what he really wanted was her.

  Shit. Something had to be done about that. If the kiss in the car was any indication, it obviously wasn’t working anymore to try staying friendly but detached—and playing beach games with Jake while pretending he didn’t feel each movement of Amy’s eyes on his back wasn’t fooling anyone. Least of all him.

  “Hello?” She waved her hand, catching him staring. “Food? Crabs?”

  “As delicious as rotting seafood sounds, I’m going to have to pass.” He pushed his feelings aside, ignoring the overwhelming sensation that they were about to take over. Work. Focus on work. He did still technically have a job to do here. Chauffeur, spy, peon. He glanced over at Jake. “Amy and her mom are starving. Should I bring the car around?”

  “Oh, no—you don’t have to leave your game.” Amy placed a hand on his arm to still him. As overheated as he was from the one-on-one volleyball match he’d somehow gotten pulled into, her smooth palms felt delicious and cool. And incredible. Incredible definitely made an appearance on the list. “It looked like things were about to get interesting over here.”

  “Things have been interesting since the second we arrived.” Jake leaned on the net, watching the pair of them through the hair that had fallen in his eyes. “Well, Ryan? What do you think? Are you ready to forfeit the game?”

  That depended on which game they were talking about. “I could always go grab some takeout and bring it here, if you prefer. Sir.”

  “Stop acting like a deferential ass. No one here is treating you like a second-class citizen. I’ll play you for it.”

  He narrowed his eyes, searching Jake’s face for clues and coming up empty. Was this another one of those ulterior motive situations? Why was it so fucking hard to tell with the Montgomery men? And why did he keep trying?

  “Play to twenty-one?” Jake asked. “Loser has to take Amy’s mom and go fetch dinner. Or are you afraid of a little challenge?”

  That settled it. Ryan didn’t care what Jake’s end goal was. Beating that bastard at anything was a temptation no man could withstand. “Oh, you’re on, Montgomery. I’m going to enjoy slaughtering you a lot more than I should.”

  “Um, hello?” Amy waved her hand. “How come no one is asking me to throw my hat in the ring? I have arms and legs too. I can play volleyball and oppress womankind with my machismo just as well as both of you.”

  Guilt worked through him, ending in a warm flush. “I’m sorry. We’ve been neglecting you, haven’t we?”

  “Oh, I’m having a great time.” And she really was. No work. Her mom nearby. Two men who might or might not have been fighting over her. A not-so-secret wish for the blond one to win. “But as much as I’ve enjoyed watching you leap around the sand without your shirts on, I think it’s time I show you how this game is played.”

  “Are you going to take your shirt off too?” Jake asked hopefully.

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “Very funny. All I need is for one of you gentleman to step down and let me take your place, and this wager can get started.”

  Jake and Ryan exchanged looks of equal wariness, and she had to suppress a bubble of irritation from escaping her. They couldn’t stand the idea of unlocking horns long enough to let her have a turn. She really was the least common denominator here. “Oh, come on, you guys. You’re being ridiculous. Let me play for you, Jake. I can totally win.”

  “I fight my own battles, sweetheart. You know that.”

  She turned to Ryan. “Well, Ryan? What do you think? I’m telling you—I’m really good at volleyball.”

  “You always say that. Remember the pinball fiasco?”

  “That machine was fixed!” she protested. “I think those soccer kids hacked the game or something. Is it possible to hack pinball?”

  Jake looked back and forth between the two of them. “Soccer kids?”

  “We played laser tag last month,” Amy explained. “Ryan promised to help me win against a bunch of punk kids who hang out there every week. You remember the place on Hiawatha, right—the one with the arcade attached? It’s still standing. Hasn’t changed in over a decade.”

  Jake glanced at Ryan with a quirk in his brow. “Laser tag, huh?”

  Ryan shrugged. “I tried to tell you.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “This is your last chance to restore my belief in the existence of decent men in this world. Either have enough faith in me to let me take your place, or singlehandedly crush the forward progression of the feminist movement. It’s your choice.”

  Jake responded by looking off into the distance, gifting her with a glimpse of his perfect profile and a burning desire to throw the volleyball at his head. Ryan, on the other hand, relaxed into a reluctant smile and tossed her the ball. “I can’t afford to have something like that on my conscience.” He gave a slight bow. “I’d be honored if you’d take my place in the duel and show this cocky bastard how it’s done.”

  She cried out in excitement and kissed him on the cheek—scratchy and warm, tasting of salty air and athletic sweat. Oh, man. Now she really wanted to lick the sand from his shoulders.

  “I knew I could count on you to stand up for me,” she said, keeping her tongue in place only with considerable restraint.

  The beach and all its contents faded into the background as Ryan stood motionless, locking her in his gaze, trapping her with the gentle, almost painful plea she saw there. His finger came up and flicked her on the cheek. “Of course. No matter what else happens, I’ll always have your back.”

  And that, right there, was the problem. She didn’t want Ryan to have her back. She wanted him to take all of her.

  She smacked the ball with her open palm and nodded once, firm and sharp. “Don’t you worry, my friend. I’ve got this one.”

  Loser had to go take her mom and forage for supplies? Done. Jake was as good as demolished. She was going to win some alone time with Ryan if it killed her.

  * * *

  Ryan watched Amy block one of Jake’s hits for the third time in a row, and let loose a catcall. “Sorry,” he said as an aside to Amy’s mom, Linda, who sat next to him watching the game. “I can’t seem to help myself. I’ve never been so happy to see a man lose in my life.”

  “The game’s not over yet.” Her eyes moved back and forth as she watched the ball move over the net. “I wouldn’t start counting your chickens.”

  But Ryan felt fairly sure he could count all he wanted. Not only could Amy jump much higher than seemed possible for someone with mere human genes, but she kept up an almost constant stream of triumphant, cocky smack talk that had Jake missing easy hits and falling further behind.

  And she was graceful—crazy graceful, sending perfect arcs of sand where she dived, her form impeccable as she leaped up and spiked. Sometimes, he was even able to wrest his attention from her legs, which flexed underneath her tiny jean shorts in a mesmerizing dance of muscles and skin, to actually watch the game.

  But not often.

  “Oh, nice one, sweetie!” Linda called. She looked over and grinned, her smile so much like her daughter’s it was obvious where Amy got her sunny disposition. “You’re right. The outcome of this one is pretty clear.”

  “I know,” he said. “And now I feel bad. I let Amy take my place, but I didn’t think she could play, let alone win. I thought for sure I was handing in a forfeit.”

  Linda’s hand snaked over the top of t
he beach chair and pressed his warmly. “Yes, but you still let her have a chance. That was sweet.”

  Ryan coughed and looked away. Not many people accused him of being sweet, and he wasn’t quite sure what the appropriate response was. No, I’m not? Thank you? If you only knew my real motivations in being here today?

  “Yeah, well. I’m already the fourth wheel. Stepping down to let her play was the least I could do.”

  They watched as Jake made a spectacular dive that, unfortunately for him, resulted in a face full of sand and another lost point.

  “Ooh, that one is going to hurt tomorrow. Sand burn.”

  Ryan just laughed.

  “And you’re hardly the fourth wheel. Unless that young man over there recently acquired an ability to think about anyone but himself, I’m guessing this entire day was your idea. Not his.”

  Ryan was startled by her blunt approach, though he probably shouldn’t have been. The Sanders women also shared a way of catching a man off guard no matter how many walls he might try to build around him. Casting her a sidelong look, he evaded the obvious with a slowly drawled “What do you mean?”

  “I mean thank you,” she said simply. “I’ve enjoyed today very much, and so has Amy. It’s good for her to get out and have fun like this. She’s too cooped up, too involved in those kids’ lives. I sometimes think...”

  “She does seem to have a thing for the Montgomerys, doesn’t she?” Ryan picked up where Linda left off. He saw Jake slap Amy a high five and glowered. “All of them.”

  “They’re a difficult family to shake,” Linda agreed. “And I should know. I stopped in Ransom Creek one day when I was eighteen, bound for New York to make my fortune. I think I was hungry or thirsty or maybe I needed to stretch my legs. I’m not quite sure. All I remember is that I met John in line at the grocery store and haven’t left since.”

  That sounded ominous. And typical of this place.

  “Can I ask you a favor?” Linda continued.

  “Sure.” He took a long pull from the bottle of water at his feet while he waited for her to gather her thoughts. Unlike her daughter, Linda had a way of moving slowly and methodically, as if each action was thought out ahead of time. He wondered how much of that was her condition and how much was simply her.

  “You’re a good kid. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.”

  He didn’t like where this conversation was going. He glanced over to where Amy was getting ready to serve the ball, her head held high, her determination clear. “Of course I don’t. I can’t imagine anyone wishing her harm.”

  A noncommittal sound escaped Linda’s lips as she also directed her gaze at the roped-off volleyball court. “It’d mean a lot to me if you could make sure nothing happens between her and Jake. Romance-wise, I mean.”

  He shot up out of his chair. That was it. That was the absolute end of his patience with this topic of conversation. In the back of his mind somewhere, he knew he was taking his frustrations out on the wrong person, but the irritation in his voice was unmistakable. “If you’re all so worried about whether or not she dates the guy, why don’t you talk to her about it like adults? At what point did it become the job of the chauffeur to sneak around and meddle in other people’s personal lives?”

  His irritation didn’t take. Linda’s eyes grew a little rounder, but she was unmoved as she asked, “Did John ask you to step in?”

  “Ask isn’t the right word.”

  She had the audacity to smile. “I should have known he’d take care of things. I don’t know why I ever questioned it.” She placed her hand on Ryan’s arm. “Don’t take it the wrong way, hon. I just thought you might have a few reasons of your own for wanting to steer her away from that boy.”

  He had a hold on enough of his anger to recognize her meaning. Jesus. He’d thought he’d been doing a fairly good job of hiding his feelings, but if this woman could see right through him after a few hours at the beach, he was obviously deluding himself. He had it bad.

  Since there didn’t seem any way to deny what was so patently obvious, he just sighed and reconciled himself to playing the part of the fool. The dancing puppet fool.

  “Regardless of where I fit into things,” he said tightly, “I still don’t see why you’re all so determined to keep the two of them apart, but refuse to actually do anything about it.”

  Linda watched the pair in silence. Ryan looked too, taking in the sight of Amy and Jake arguing over whether or not the ball had hit the line on his side. They were in each other’s faces, angry and voluble, about two insults away from throwing down and duking it out like a pair of bickering children in the sand.

  “Don’t you?” Linda asked, smiling softly at them. She patted Ryan’s arm again. “I’d have thought it was fairly obvious by now.”

  * * *

  “I still can’t believe you won.” Ryan shook his head as he led Amy along the water’s edge. The sky and the sea spread out before them like both sides of paradise, the constant roaring in his ears only partially due to the surf drawing back out into the ocean. “I thought for sure I was going to end up on dinner duty.”

  In fact, he’d been halfway counting on it. What might have been a dream come true in another lifetime—a romantic walk on the beach with Amy by his side—had taken on nightmarish proportions as he struggled to keep his hands in his pockets and his heart in his chest.

  “And I still can’t believe you doubted me. It’s one thing to go up against a guy like Alex with laser guns. But Jake is easy to beat at just about everything. All you have to do is make him lose his cool. While he’s in control of himself, no one stands a chance. But the moment it slips?”

  “I’ll have to remember that.”

  She laughed and pinched his arm. “Don’t you dare. He’s been nice today.”

  He grunted his negative response.

  “Why so hostile? He likes you. I can tell.”

  Right. Like wasn’t what Jake Montgomery felt for him. Curiosity, maybe. Competition, sure. But anything even resembling friendship? Please. Ryan didn’t have friends. Especially not rich, overprivileged playboy ones.

  “He needs me. It’s not the same thing.” Unable to help himself or the feeling of tight jealousy that solidified his core, he asked, “What do you see in that guy, anyway? Besides the obvious?”

  “Why is everyone suddenly so judgmental about my relationship with a man I’ve known my whole life?” She kicked at the sand and promptly spit out a mouthful of collateral damage. “First my mom, now you...”

  He looked over, trying to gauge her mood, getting nothing but exasperation from the downward curl of her lips. “What exactly did your mom say to you?”

  “Oh, not much. She only tried to extract a blood oath that I wouldn’t throw myself at him, like I’m lining up to be some notch on his bedpost—which she knows I’d never do. I don’t think it’s fair everyone assumes that just because I’m a girl and he’s a guy, there has to be more to us than friendship. Maybe Jake needs someone to believe in him, to show him that the bevvies of women falling at his feet is a sad place to plant his sense of self-worth. Maybe I’m trying to be nice.”

  “You’re just friends?”

  Amy watched as Ryan’s brow wrinkled and unwrinkled again, unsure how to proceed from here in her one-sided courtship. The sun was low on the horizon, hanging heavily in the sky, and the splash of the waves tickled at their feet. With any other man, it would have been a perfect time to enjoy a From Here to Eternity moment. With any other man, though, the moment would have already made the first move.

  She stopped and watched the waves, wriggling her toes deeper and deeper in the sand until they grew numb, before she felt brave enough to meet his eyes and force the words that needed to be said. He was watching her with his usual guarded expression, but for the first time, she didn’t let that deter he
r. “I’m not interested in him, Ryan. Not like that. I have feelings for someone else.”

  The implication behind her statement—that he was that someone—sat heavily between them, a pile of waste neither one of them wanted to deal with. Even though Amy itched to say something more, she forced her tongue to lie still, biting on the tip until it bled. If Ryan didn’t want her, he could at least have the balls to say so.

  She could tell when he finally found what he wanted to say by the lump that moved down his throat, and tears pricked at her eyes at the sight of it. She almost wished she could yank her confession back, but it was too late for that. Her heart was already on the line.

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you in the car. I’m sorry about that.”

  He sounded so sad she couldn’t help but reassure him. “It’s okay. I liked it. I liked it a lot, actually.”

  He actually groaned—the kind of groan that signaled physical pain, as if he couldn’t bear to think about it again. The best freaking kiss of her life, and he was acting like she’d stuck a shiv in his gut. “I still shouldn’t have done it. Not that it wasn’t nice, of course. It was nice.”

  Yeah. She licked her lips, as if she could recapture the sensation of his mouth on hers again. Nice.

  “It’s just that I’m leaving.”

  The chill in her toes worked up through her spine, causing her to break out in goose bumps. “You’re what?”

  “I’m leaving Ransom Creek. Have I ever told you that?” He looked away, casting his glance out over the ocean like a lure. “I never intended to be here for so long—it’s always been my plan to get back to stunt work as soon as I can find a way to clear my record. A DUI is pretty hard to get around when you’re a professional driver, but I’m trying.”

  “Oh,” she said, unsure what else to offer.

  “It’s not so bad.” This time, he really did cast over the ocean, picking up a rock and tossing it so that it skimmed over the waves. Once, twice, three times before plunging into the murky depths. “It looks like all the trying is about to pay off. That’s why I shouldn’t have kissed you. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I probably won’t be around long enough to do it again.”