“Um…” Emily twirled a ringlet around her finger. “I’ll probably be putting on a show for her class today. Wonder Woman can draw a crowd, you know. So then Mom will have plenty of time to work with you.”
Tracen shook his head as if he’d forgotten he was speaking to a celebrity. A small smile played on his lips. “It sounds tempting, but I’ve got to get ready for Sam’s return. I need to do laundry and mop and — and organize the linen closet.”
“Okay,” Emily responded quickly. She didn’t want to sound desperate for his attention. Though now that she’d considered the idea of traveling with Tracen, the thought of leaving without him made the trip seem drab and lonely. “But if you want to come, I could always mop your floors for you.” She didn’t. Oh no, she did. What was wrong with her? She’d volunteered to help with housework. “I really hate laundry and organizing linen closets, but I don’t mind mopping. I can mop.” She was babbling now.
Tracen pasted-on a smile though his eyes wandered her face in confusion. He squinted. Emily waited for the letdown. She’d probably scared him away for good this time. Finally he responded. “Wonder Woman can clean at super speeds, can’t she?”
Relief rushed through Emily, forcing a laugh to burst out. This is why she was falling for him. “You have to see it to believe it.”
Tracen rubbed his hands up and down his thighs and stared out the glass doors for a moment. “I can’t let you clean my house. I like to give the impression that I’m one of those rare tidy bachelors, and seeing my place the way it is now would ruin the image.”
Well, she’d tried. And he wasn’t rejecting her exactly. In fact, his statement offered hope that she might be invited over to his place sometime in the future. That’s the way she’d choose to see it anyway.
“Okay.” She shifted forward to rise. Best to make a hasty retreat. “You’re missing out.” Was she talking to Tracen — or herself?
Tracen lifted a hand, motioning her to stay seated. “I’m not done.”
Uh-oh. Maybe he really was going to reject her now.
“I didn’t say I’m not coming with you. I just said you couldn’t clean my house.”
Emily scrunched up her forehead as she tried to follow Tracen’s logic. “What?”
Tracen gave a sheepish grin. “My brothers. If I decide to clean my house instead of hanging out with Wonder Woman, my brothers will give me a bad time about it for the rest of my life. ”
Emily instantly liked Tracen’s brothers. “We can’t have that.” She stood up before Tracen could stop her a second time — and before he could change his mind again. As she passed him, she turned around so she was walking backwards toward the exit. “I’ll go fill up with gas. Unless you’re ready to go now.”
Tracen rose and followed. He walked her all the way to the door, in a face-to-face kind of way. “Oh,” he groaned. “I really shouldn’t be going at all.”
His words might have caused Emily to cringe, except that the way he said them told her he wouldn’t be backing out. He held the door open for her. Emily lingered.
Looking down, Tracen paused too. Emily’s breath caught as his eyes roamed her face. She studied his in return, noticing laugh lines around his eyes and golden whiskers usually invisible against bronze skin. She couldn’t help wondering if the whiskers would tickle or scratch.
She saw his lips moving before the words penetrated her conscious. “I’ll be ready when you get back.”
****
TRACEN SET THE POT of water on the breakfast bar and continued past it toward his office. “I’m going to Boise with Emily,” he announced, without waiting for a response.
Honey followed him like he knew she would. She stood in the doorway as he sank into his squeaky leather chair and logged onto e-mail.
“What happened to your Bible discussion?”
“We discussed the Bible.” Tracen focused on his monitor. Nothing urgent he couldn’t ignore for another day. “In fact, Emily was looking up verses on water. It’s a theme in her life, she said. That’s when I told her my last name.”
Honey sank into the chair across from him. “I’m sorry, did you say ‘theme,’ or did you say ‘fling’?”
Ouch. Tracen rifled through a pile of mail. “I thought you liked her.”
“I do like her. I also like Howie, but I’m not going to pursue a relationship with him.”
Tracen’s movements stopped. He focused on the older woman, her frown lines more evident than usual. He hadn’t thought about Honey and Howie as a couple until Emily had asked about them.
So it took him by surprise to hear Honey’s take on their friendship. “Why not?”
Honey threw her arms up. “That’s beside the point. We’re talking about you and Emily. What do you expect to get out of your little trip today?”
Tracen stood and stuck a pencil in its holder. “I’m getting another wakeboarding lesson, actually. Emily’s mom teaches a class at Boise State.”
Honey guffawed. “You’re meeting her mom?”
No, he was meeting a trampoline instructor. “You’re being ridiculous, Honey.” With three long strides, Tracen made it to the door and kept going.
He tried to shake Honey’s warning words as he joined Emily in her little rented SUV. She looked so tiny with her seat scooted as close to the steering wheel as the design allowed. Was he getting in over his head?
He’d chosen to go to Boise because his brothers would give him a bad time if he turned down a day with Emily Van Arsdale, but wasn’t that exactly the reason he shouldn’t go? She was Emily Van Arsdale and could have any guy she wanted, so why would she choose him? Especially since it would require quitting her career and relocating. Even if she did have a thing for him now, it surely wouldn’t last. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to tell himself that he wasn’t the fool he felt. He’d just enjoy their friendship — enjoy his chance to practice his wakeboarding tricks.
“So.” He cleared his throat, trying to get back to their easy banter. “Do I get to meet your dad too?”
Emily adjusted the speed of the windshield wipers as the car in front of them spit puddles. She focused on the road when responding. “My dad died two years ago. Cancer.”
So much for easy banter. But hadn’t they talked about cancer before? Oh yeah. Honey’s husband. So that’s why Emily had gotten emotional on the boat.
“I’m sorry.” Tracen couldn’t imagine losing his own father. Never again seeing the man’s warm smile and lazy eye. Never again battling him in a game of Cribbage or for the last piece of banana cream pie. Never again listening to his preachy words of advice, knowing they came with kind-hearted intentions and unconditional love.
Emily sniffed. She didn’t respond, so he tried to fill the silence. “That must have been rough. Did your dad fight it for a long time? Honey has told stories of her husband’s chemotherapy and—”
“No.” Emily spit the word out. “No, he didn’t fight it very long. He didn’t fight it at all.”
Tracen tried to make sense of her words. “It was sudden?”
Emily’s palm slapped the steering wheel. Then, visibly trying to relax, she wrapped her fingers around the wheel and slid both hands wide. “He could have gotten chemo. He could have had more time with me.”
Tracen didn’t know how to ease her pain, especially since he didn’t understand it. “Chemo is pretty scary. Did your dad try a more homeopathic route then?”
Emily sighed. “That’s the way he was going to go. All natural. It wasn’t covered by insurance, though.”
She stared at the road, slowing to take a curve. Tracen waited for her to continue, listening to the tires slurp slick asphalt.
“That’s the whole reason I started stunting in the first place. One of Mom’s trampoline students got a job for that lifeguard show I told you about. The studio needed more doubles with her skills, so she invited me to share her apartment and work with her. It paid enough to send money to my parents to help with hospital bills.”
Tracen sat up a little straighter. Had he heard right? Emily went to Hollywood to help her father fight cancer? That wasn’t at all what he would have expected. He wondered what Honey would say about such a revelation. “Very noble of you.”
Emily grunted. “It wasn’t noble. It was desperate. I didn’t want to lose my daddy.”
Her voice broke, and Tracen racked his brain for something to ease her pain. What would help him if he’d recently lost his dad? Not much. The thought gripped his gut like a vise.
She pressed her lips together. When they parted, her voice became harsher. “But Dad didn’t use the money for doctor visits. He spent all I sent him to take Mom on a vacation. He said he wanted to make the most of his last days on earth.”
Tracen twisted to get a better look at Emily’s face. Was she for real? She’d tried to save her father’s life, and he’d used her act of compassion to live it up? Her expression lacked emotion now. She was spouting facts. Possibly too numb to let herself care anymore.
“Wow,” was all he could think to say.
Emily shrugged. “I should have known they would do something like that.”
Tracen squinted, still trying to comprehend. Her dad had thrown his life away, and she thought she should have expected it? “Your mom didn’t make your father seek medical attention?”
Emily’s shoulders sagged. “My mom sees the good in everything. She doesn’t deal with pain. She simply pretends it doesn’t exist.”
Tracen leaned back in his seat, feeling a little of the weight from Emily’s burden. He wanted to fight for her. To right a wrong. To make the unjust fair again. But how did one deal with a parent who couldn’t see the problem? “You’ve tried talking to your mom?”
“Oh yeah.” Emily kept her eyes firmly on the road. “I talked, I screamed, I begged. I said I wanted my dad to walk me down the aisle when I got married. I said I wanted him to be able to rock his grandchildren. I said I wanted to see him grow old.” Her chin quivered. “He never got old. I remember him as vibrant and exciting. He always had so much energy — so much life. I don’t understand how he could give that up.”
Tracen wanted to reach out and offer comfort, protection, but she was driving. Besides, he’d known her less than a week. “That must have been tough.”
Emily nodded but didn’t respond. The rhythm of the wiper blades filled the silence. What was going on inside her head? Was she reliving memories with her father? Making a list of things they never got to do together?
Finally she glanced his direction. “I think I blame my mom more than anything. That’s why I stayed in California. I’d planned to return, but I couldn’t bear to pretend that everything was okay the way she does.”
Tracen let Emily’s situation sink into him like the warmth from the heater. He slipped his jacket off and wrestled it around the seat belt while planning what to say next. He should reassure her regarding her decision. But what he wanted to do was convince her to move back to Idaho. If only her parents hadn’t gone on that ridiculous vacation. Of course, then he might never have met her.
“Where did they go on vacation?” he blurted.
Emily’s eyebrows lifted for an instant. “My parents? Oh, they went to the Holy Lands. Israel. It sounds like an amazing place to visit. Someday I’ll go, but I don’t know if I would want to spend my last days there.”
Israel. Tracen had always wanted to see it in person too. He’d done his fourth-grade geography report on the Dead Sea. Apparently you could float in it without a raft. “So what would you do? If you had one last day to live, I mean.”
Emily rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder, as if she needed to stretch after such a grueling conversation. “One day to live? I don’t know. What would you do?”
Tracen rubbed the stubble on his chin. She’d turned the tables on him, but there was no question as to what he would do. “I’d raft a class six.” Again.
The respect in Emily’s eyes told him she approved. “If you were already going to die, then you’d have nothing to fear from the river.”
“Yep.” Tracen hadn’t intended to admit his fear, but Emily knew what he’d been thinking. “Your turn.”
“Hmm…” Emily tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “You know what I fear? Skydiving.”
Tracen cocked his head. So she wasn’t fearless. “Really? You’ve thrown yourself off buildings and cliffs but never jumped out of a plane?”
Emily scrunched her face up. “No,” she said in a tiny voice. “Char took me last year for my birthday, but I was too chicken. My makeup artist parachuted, but me, the stuntwoman, I panicked.”
Tracen slapped his thigh in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
Emily shrugged nonchalantly, but her pink cheeks gave away her embarrassment. “In all my stunts, I still possess a level of control. Leaping into midair with no rope or bungee connected seems too dangerous.”
Tracen gaped at her. “I never would have guessed.” She became more interesting every moment. “So you would go skydiving if you had one day to live?”
“I would,” Emily declared, as if claiming victory over her fear. Tracen stuck one finger in his ear and twisted, pretending to have trouble hearing over her volume.
She giggled, then sent him a demure smile. “Thank you, Tracen. You’ve helped me to understand my father a little bit better. Maybe Mom understood all along.”
Her smile heated Tracen up even more, though he hadn’t meant to justify Emily’s mom’s actions. He reached over to shut the vent that was starting to feel like a hair dryer. “Your mom still needs to face reality, Emily.”
“I know. I can’t run away anymore.”
Emily rubbed her pretty pink lips together. Tracen tried to avert his gaze so he could concentrate on the conversation, but his rebellious eyes returned to roam her expressive face. Even if his eyes wouldn’t obey, hopefully his ears could stay focused. What was she saying?
“That’s what stunting was for me. It kept me busy, so I didn’t have to deal with Mom. But now, being back with her, it seems like I’ve made all the wrong choices. She acts as though she doesn’t need anybody, but she’s still up here all by herself.”
Tracen tried to let the news digest. The fact that Emily moved to Southern California to help her parents out financially was huge in itself. But this. This confession was more shocking than her fear of skydiving. She made it sound like… no, he couldn’t let himself think it unless it was fact. “Are you going to move back to Idaho?” His insides sloshed around the way they did when he was rafting. But somehow awaiting Emily’s answer was scarier than whitewater.
Emily answered solemnly. “I want to. Mom’s going to help me look for a job teaching physical education. I have a major in exercise and movement science and a minor in elementary ed.”
Tracen’s laugh echoed through the car. Wonder Woman wanted to teach P.E., and she wanted to teach it in Idaho. He flipped through his mental rolodex to find a contact that could get her hired on at Ernest Hemingway Elementary. Then he could see her every day if he wanted — even eat cafeteria sloppy joes with her on her lunch break.
Emily frowned. “What’s so funny?”
Tracen tried to control his enthusiasm. After all, they’d been discussing her father’s death. “I’m just” — a grin split his face like he was the guy from the Reach toothbrush commercials — “picturing your students when they find out Wonder Woman is their P.E. teacher.”
Emily’s frown didn’t fade like he thought it would. “You think it’s funny that I want a normal job?”
Through the rain, orange construction signs began to appear. Emily tapped the brakes as Tracen attempted a U-turn in their conversation. “No. Absolutely not. I’m sure you’d be a great teacher. It’s merely all a little, uh, unexpected.”
Emily pulled to a stop behind a row of cars waiting for the flagger to let them pass. The inconvenience barely registered as Tracen awaited her response. She shifted into park and turned to give Tracen her full attention.
“You don’t want to make movies anymore?” He shot a prayer heavenward that her answer would be no.
Emily studied him. What she was looking for, he couldn’t be sure. “I’ve always thought of acting as simply a phase in my life. You know, like high school.”
Tracen laughed again, then hurried to explain. He didn’t want her to think that he was laughing at her. No, he was laughing at the irony of her situation. How many people moved to Hollywood with dreams of the kind of fame she’d accidentally achieved? People like Serena. Maybe he shouldn’t be laughing. But, then, maybe fate was working in his favor this time.
“You surprised me,” he began. “But I guess the fact you’ve been hanging out with rafting guides should have clued me in to who you really are.”
The challenge in Emily’s eyes turned to a sparkle. “You’re missing another pretty obvious clue.”
“Oh yeah?” Tracen didn’t even try to guess what she was hinting at. He was too intoxicated by her tone. And by the way the apples of her cheeks popped out when she smiled. Mercy, he loved her smile. “What’s that?”
“You’re the rafting guide.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EMILY SOARED TOWARD THE CEILING, MUSCLES tight, waiting for the pull of gravity before tucking into a triple summersault. Cheers arose to welcome her back to the trampoline. She pushed off again, blocking out the crowd that surrounded her and adding a twist to the next layout.
Was it only last week that she’d done the same routine in her mom’s class? But this time she felt it all more. Everything was bigger. Almost alive.
She wasn’t playing now. She was performing. And it didn’t matter that her mother had another student who could execute the exact same moves with better form. It mattered that Tracen was there to see her. And it mattered that Tracen would be eating dinner at her childhood home. She wanted to cut the tramp routine short to join Tracen and her mom with the wakeboard lesson.
Oh, goodness. The drive to Boise had flown by, even with the construction delays. She’d opened up to Tracen, and he’d helped her see her parents in a new light. After that, she hadn’t exactly been subtle in her flirting, which could have been a mistake. She didn’t want him to think she was one of those girls who threw herself at any cute guy. Because she didn’t.
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