Fire Heart (Broken Bottle Series Book 2)

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Fire Heart (Broken Bottle Series Book 2) Page 5

by Taeuffer, Pamela


  "I'd say you were on the money, Walter. The results seem to speak for themselves, right?"

  "So far. I became the father figure in his life. All these years later, we’ve kept in touch, and miraculously ended up on the same coast. So that's our story."

  "That's pretty terrific." I clasped my hands.

  "I’m lucky to have seen him achieve his dreams—at least professionally. Another part of his life seems to be opening. Are you the reason he wanted me to reveal our story?”

  “Before I came here, I thought it was to help me understand all the things he could do for my friends and family.”

  "And now?"

  “Now, I’m confused.” I rubbed my amethyst pin.

  As Walter finished talking, I was lost in my thoughts about the friendship of a boy who’d put the pain of his childhood in front of his mentor and me. The fondness I felt for Ryan turned to love as I sat with Walter. It was like a kaleidoscope was turning colors all through me.

  Just as Ryan didn’t know how to deal with his emotions when he lost his father, I didn’t know how to deal with the same loss from my dysfunctional parents. I didn’t understand—yet—that inside I’d been silently grieving for the touch and embrace of my family for many years.

  My fears of intimacy and abandonment would soon demand recognition. No longer would I be able to ignore what it meant to let someone see inside me.

  “Are you all right?” Walter asked.

  “Yes.” I took a Kleenex from his desk and dabbed my eyes. “I don’t know why I'm so emotional about him. He reaches me in ways I don’t understand.”

  “You love him,” his eyes softened. “That’s plain enough. Whether that love is friendship or something more . . . the man I’ve always known? When he cares about you, he cares deeply.”

  “Thank you, Walter. I've heard that same thing from almost every person I met with today.” I got up to leave. “I could sit here for hours and listen to you talk, but I know you’re busy.”

  “Nicky?”

  “Yes?”

  “I understand your confusion,” he moved a puzzle of stacked magnets to the corner of his desk and then looked up at me.

  “I think I’ve got it now. Thanks again for your time.” I offered my hand to shake his.

  “Ms. Young?” He took my hand to make sure he'd caught my attention. “Be thoughtful about this.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m saying that whatever you do, make sure you don’t regret your decision. Let the chips fall where they may, but it’s your life; not Jerry’s, not Ryan’s, but yours.”

  “Would I overstep if I gave you a hug, Walter?"

  “I’d be honored.” Walter pushed up from his desk to meet me. “You know, when I spoke with Ryan yesterday, the excitement in his voice wasn’t about Mr. Stowe.”

  I forced a smile. I was embarrassed and swimming with emotions that I didn't know how to process. I thanked him again and left his office.

  I thought about Ryan’s story the rest of the day.

  I wonder what his mother and siblings are like? Does he have any brothers or sisters? Does he have any friends from school he still sees? All these social events he attends . . . how big is his circle? What was it like growing up on the east coast?

  The ache I felt for him simmered. As I reviewed the conversations I’d had that day, I heard a rumble inside me.

  Something was building.

  I didn’t know how strong and furious the oncoming storm would be.

  Chapter 6

  A Buffet of Choices

  After my talk with Walter Dixon, I needed to be alone to sort through feelings. He'd shared a sweet vulnerability that he'd found in Ryan and while still fresh in my mind I needed to write down my observations and process my day.

  I knew the perfect place.

  The magnificent Cliff House was located on the Great Highway at Ocean Beach in San Francisco. It was where my father had taken me after a Goliaths game, just he and I, when Dad was Dad.

  Now, it was where I went when I wanted to be by myself.

  Like the biggest diamond in a jeweler's display case, the building sat on the bluffs as if guarding the waves, which crashed on the rocks below. The architectural gem had survived earthquakes, fire, and powerful winter storms that broke her 10 x 20 foot beveled glass windows.

  Gale force winds and sheets of rain mercilessly battered the interior. It damaged priceless works of art and caused the eighty-year-old ceiling murals to run like tears; the plaster had turned into mush.

  Being there made me feel strong—like I survived with her.

  I needed to wrap myself in those kinds of feelings and the memories of having a family that was present and attentive.

  The walls were a sky blue. Gods of the sea like Triton, Amphitrite and her husband, Poseidon, were a part of the murals now painted on the ceiling.

  Shown to my table for one in the corner of the big room, I stood facing the thick, floor to ceiling windows. Soaking in the sweet beauty of the view outside, I wished the thick walls of glass weren't there to separate me from it. Like so many times before, I ran my hands over them, longing to feel the vibrations and power of the waves beyond my reach. Still, as protected as we were inside, the pull of the wind, sky, and water resonated through the open doors at the restaurant's entry. It was magical.

  The pulsating life of the ocean always drew me to it in a deep way—the barnacle-covered rocks below, the sea lions lying in the sun, barking as they jockeyed for position, the foggy skies above—I bathed myself in the glorious richness around me.

  A seafood buffet with my favorite shellfish and a big selection of side dishes, salads, and desserts, waited for me on the well-stocked tables set in the middle of the room. If I kept my plate full, I knew I’d be left alone and could stay as long as I needed at my table for one.

  I’d just started to eat one of several salads I'd put on my plate when my cell phone rang.

  It was almost seven p.m.

  “Hey, sweetness.” Ryan's voice was welcoming.

  “Hi, my Ryan.” My voice trembled and my emotions surfaced unexpectedly.

  “Are you all right? You sound—you’re not upset with me, are you?” Worry plagued his voice.

  “No, I'm not upset.”

  “What’s the matter, Nicky? Your voice sounds shaky.”

  “You’re trying to help my father."

  “Yes."

  “Last week you were pretty specific that you wanted an exclusive commitment from me before you'd do that. I haven't given you one. And yet, you've . . .” My bottom lip quivered. "You've—"

  “I decided your dad wasn't the only one who might be hurt if I didn’t try to do something. My precious woman would be on the end of an unfair situation. When you said we were more than casual friends, you got to me.”

  You were moved on the beach that night we went to Sammy's! I knew it!

  “I thought, here I am, asking you to trust me. I wouldn’t be much of a boyfriend if I didn’t do anything.”

  I could hear him breathing.

  Afraid to ripple our stillness, I waited until he began speaking.

  “Is there something else, sweetness? It’s never good when you’re quiet.”

  “You helped Jerry, too.” I was still in mild shock from when Walter revealed Ryan had already called him.

  “That was for selfish reasons,” he admitted.

  “How could such a generous act be selfish?”

  “I don’t want you to see Jerry as a victim, especially because of something I could have done but instead withheld. I want you to see him as an equal and make a decision about two strong men.”

  “I’m falling for one of those strong men."

  "And?"

  "It's you, Ryan Tilton. And I'm afraid."

  "Of?"

  "We'll both get hurt.”

  “How would you hurt me?” he exhaled softly.

  That's just what Jerry said and now I have to tell my friend I'm in love with ano
ther man.

  “I don’t know how to be the woman you're looking for. I've never been with a boy. I have a feeling; actually, I just know I’ll be a lousy girlfriend. I’m leaving for college in January no matter what. I'm completely focused on it. I know that's six months from now and we'll have a chance to figure out if we work way before that, but . . ."

  “But?"

  "I know you'll be disappointed." I stabbed at a forkful of crab.

  "We're meant to be." His voice lowered. "I have no doubt about that. By January, I'm hoping you'll look at your home life differently. Maybe you’ll decide to live there instead of the dorms. Maybe, you'll live with me.”

  “You don't mean that." How could he?

  "Oh, I mean it, Nicky. I'm going to tempt you to consider doing just that and in every way."

  He's murder.

  "A lot can happen in six months. You have your life on the road and I'll meet new people at college. I have dozens of fears . . . I have to spit it out, so please listen when I tell you this. Are you listening?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even if I fall head over heels in love with you, I’m going to stay focused on my goals,” I insisted. "I won't let myself be distracted by anyone and that means I won't go on the road with you if I have to study or prepare for a test. What will happen then?"

  “What will happen is I'll understand. Of course I want you to go to Stanford and be successful. I'd never get in the way of your dream. You and I are not about killing dreams; we're about soaring. When I asked you to look at us, I meant everything about us. For you that includes Stanford.”

  “My father says you’ll want me to come on the road with you." I almost gasped as I released the words. “He thinks you won't support me or honor that I need to have the college experience. I wonder about it, too, because I’ll make new friends and have a separate life. Will you be able to handle that? Dad thinks you want to keep me sheltered and away from the life I see for myself.”

  “I will support you,” he almost pleaded. “Sure, I’ll want you on the road with me, but I understand you won’t always be able. The way I want to shelter you has nothing to do with isolation.”

  “I really like Walter Dixon.” Trying to get my fragile emotions under control, I changed the subject. He seemed ready to explore a level of intimacy I wasn't prepared to hear.

  “He’s quite a man,” Ryan's voice softened.

  “He loves you."

  "I love him, too."

  "Talking with him about your childhood helped me realize how strong my feelings are for you. In fact, everyone I spoke with today made me feel good that I know you.”

  “Thank you. How could you know Walter and I love each other in so little time?”

  “Oh, Ryan," I sighed. "It was so easy. When he told me the story of the reckless boy he’d found he had tears in his eyes. The way Walter mentored you—what a blessing to have in your life.”

  “Yes. I was lost back then.”

  “He’s a special man . . . like you. You know what?"

  "What?"

  "I think a guardian angel created a miracle and brought the two of you together. Maybe it’s your dad watching over you.”

  “I’ve thought about that,” Ryan's voice was like a soft caress.

  “And you know what else?”

  “What else, Nicky?”

  “I’m fond of the little boy that Walter loves, too.”

  Ryan suddenly quieted and I wondered if I had shocked him. He probably expected me to talk only about the things he could do for my family, but instead, I focused on my feelings for him. The sense of him as a little boy and the vulnerability hidden beneath his macho man exterior piqued my curiosity in a way that made me want so much more with him.

  You can be that vulnerable, Nick.

  “Ryan? Are you there?”

  “Who’s left on the list?” His voice shook.

  Now you’re deflecting—I know that tactic very well.

  “No one's left.”

  “What about your sister?”

  “I saw Mr. Woodson and Mr. Blockley. By the way, how well do you know Caden Blockley?"

  "Why?"

  "He seems like he could be a lot of trouble for a woman."

  "He told me you called him out," Ryan laughed appreciatively.

  "Well . . . I, I'm sorry, I guess I did, but I was tired of the flirting and game playing. I wasn't in there for any of that."

  "You did the right thing," he supported. "He can be overbearing."

  "I'll say. I get a feeling you two have hit the town together more than once."

  "Hit the town?" he laughed.

  "Mmm. And he said to tell you yes. What does that mean?"

  "Ah, well . . . that's man code. The translation means he's in agreement with my intuition that you're an amazing woman."

  "That's caveman stuff," I laughed.

  "No it isn't," he argued. "When women have it you call it women's intuition, right?"

  "True. Anyway, the other names you listed for my friends, I canceled those appointments.”

  “What? Why would you do that?”

  “I'm fairly confident the results will be the same. Each of my friends will have a unique opportunity because of someone you know. Did you win today?”

  “Yes.”

  What’s the matter, Mr. Cool? Cat got that golden tongue of yours?

  “God, Ryan.” I started laughing.

  “What?”

  “You and the night at my house after I sang the anthem when we were on my front steps. What a faker you were with all your veiled threats.”

  “You found me out.” For the first time since I'd known him, he sounded bashful.

  “It wasn’t too difficult.”

  “Yeah, well, I needed something to get your attention. You didn’t look at one guy all last year or this year—at least so far. I knew I had to be bold.”

  “Well, you’re wrong about that. I did look at one boy last year.”

  “Who was it?” he asked innocently.

  “Did you pitch?”

  Are you as quick as I think you are?

  “I get it.” I could hear the smile in his voice. "That's a sweet thing to say."

  “How many saves now? Nineteen?”

  “You still track me?” He laughed.

  “Of course, I do. I told you I follow the Goliaths,” I reminded him. “I was a baseball fan years before the cheer team—or boys. You know what? I’m counting down."

  "To what?"

  "Nine more days, Ryan.”

  “Until?”

  “Until I get those sweet kisses of yours. Ooh I can't wait.” I raised my voice in excitement.

  “You’re taking me apart piece by piece," he said bravely. "I didn’t expect to hear you say these things. You uh, you understand . . . you’re seeing us just like I hoped you would. In fact, what you just said is so much more than I dared to let myself dream this soon. Did you realize you’d open up to me like this?”

  I stared out the windows at the raging ocean.

  “You know what, Ryan?”

  “What, sweetheart?”

  “I think we’re putting each other together, piece by piece. I’ve been taken apart since I was little. And from what Walter told me today, it seems like you’ve been through the same.”

  I can hear you breathing. Ooh, how I’d love to be near that mouth and get your kiss.

  "It's almost as if I was fighting a war," he sighed.

  “I know. And yet, how did you end up with such a big heart?"

  "Same way you did," he was sweet with his response.

  "I’m so attracted to your generosity—the way you've set up networking groups at my sister’s college . . . I knew you’d be amazing. I saw it last year when we went to Yountville. You knew what you were doing taking me there."

  A sexy laugh greeted me on the other end of the line.

  "And, of course, when I ran my hands over your amazing chest, that did it. Oh, it's so, so, boo-tee-ful,” I giggle
d.

  “God, Nicky.”

  “Don't pretend to be bashful," I kidded. "Well, I should get back to my writing. Let’s talk tomorrow. Don't forget, I’m going to Yountville in the morning. If you miss me, then leave me a good time to get back to you. I still have to go over to your place. Does Ross work this late?”

  “Until ten.”

  “Good," I exhaled in relief. "I still have time to finish up here. Whelp, I'll let you know if I have any problems getting your packages. Don’t worry if you get in too late. If you’re out partying, you can just text me.”

  “Partying?”

  “Yeah, you know. Come on, Ryan. I know about you guys and the way you are on the road. Tara and Alex tell me about you guys and all your women. I’m not stupid. Naive maybe, but not stupid."

  “I don’t party anymore,” he said firmly. “Have you seen me with anyone since I revealed my feelings to?”

  “No, but your physical needs . . . we’re not exclusive, so why wouldn't you . . . you know.”

  After all, it only took me one day to consider things with Jerry.

  I couldn’t allow myself to trust him even though I hoped he was all mine. Giving him permission to carry on the way he did before his promise kept love and the seriousness of his commitment somewhere in the distance.

  “I’m not partying. You rely on a gossip chain that has given you false information more than a few times.”

  “Well . . .” I hesitated.

  “What does that tell you?” he asked again.

  “You don’t have to convince me.” Secretly, I hoped he’d continue.

  “Yeah, I think I do. I wouldn’t ask you to see me exclusively or have you talk with the people you did today if I was seeing other women. That would be a waste of everyone’s time and I’d be a pretty big asshole.”

  It’s not possible for you to abstain from sex while you wait for me. You’ll never be able to love me enough. There isn’t any way to really comfort me or make me believe you.

  “I know you don’t believe me. I'm asking you to give me your attention so I can prove it to you."

  "You have my attention," I flirted.

 

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