by Amy Knupp
Looping around to the second option, she again watched for someone walking. This street was more deserted. She was almost back to the hotel when she hit her brakes hard. Luckily she’d been going so slowly they didn’t squeal.
Nadia stared in her rearview mirror but couldn’t see clearly enough. Putting the car in Park, she twisted and craned her neck to look out the back window. There, under the streetlight, was a figure on the bus stop bench, lying down, knees pointed to the sky. Bare knees. Tennis shoes. Dark hair.
Penn. She was almost sure of it.
She was going to kill him for refusing a ride.
He didn’t even look her way when the car door slammed shut. She crossed to his side of the street, and narrowed her eyes as she approached. Yep, that was Penn all right.
When she stood at the side of the bench peering down at him, he opened his eyes.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, unable to keep her anger in check.
“Resting,” he said with a decidedly blow-it-out-your-ear tone.
Nadia clenched her jaw so hard her head throbbed. She was trying to control her temper, to be calm and reasonable. Unaffected by his blockheadedness. She’d have to work on mastering that later.
“Get in the car, Penn.”
He stared at her without changing his expression. “I said I’m resting my back.”
“Let’s get you home to your bed and you can rest it all night, for all I care.”
“Let’s nothing. This is my problem. Stay out of it.”
He had to be hurting something awful to have stopped like this, but her sympathy was currently buried by frustration to the nth degree. “Penn, come on.” She shifted to the end where he rested his head. “I can’t believe you were too stubborn to accept a ride in the first place. See where that got you?”
“Halfway home so far.”
“In between grimaces of pain.”
Her blood pounded as he ignored her.
Sucking in air to try to calm herself, she unclenched her fists and looked up and down the street. They were alone, not that that mattered. An audience wouldn’t stop her from…what? What was she going to do? She couldn’t move him. Even if he wasn’t a hundred pounds heavier than her, she didn’t dare touch him, for fear of hurting him more.
He watched her with a mix of wariness and defiance. His body took up the entire bench, so Nadia lowered herself to the pavement in front of it.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.
“Waiting.”
“Bus just came through about five minutes before you got here.” His forced nonchalance was almost as annoying as his hatefulness.
“Maybe you’ll get tired of the game before the next one comes along.”
“Why are you doing this?” Penn shifted his arms from behind his head to cross them over his chest stubbornly.
“That’s a good freaking question,” Nadia muttered, hugging her legs in an attempt to find a semi-comfortable position.
“Guilt can be a bitch.”
She glared at him.
Another five minutes passed with neither of them speaking. Nadia, who’d shed her jacket in her office hours ago, shivered as a light breeze picked up. A little wind wasn’t going to scare her off. This battle had become personal and she wasn’t leaving Penn until he was in his condo. She glanced over and caught him watching her.
Penn eased himself up and swung his legs to the ground, and she could tell he was fighting hard not to show how much the motion hurt.
“Let’s go,” he said. “You’re too stubborn to admit you’re cold.”
Nadia hopped up and, once he was standing, firmly grabbed his hand. She wasn’t going to let him walk off now. “The car’s right there.”
He removed his hand from hers and she tried—unsuccessfully—not to take it personally.
They walked to her BMW. She got in the driver’s side and prayed he wouldn’t decide to walk off now. The passenger door opened and he sat with his back to her, then slowly turned toward the front.
“Son of a bitch,” he said.
It was all she could do to not remind him he would have been home and more comfortable ages ago if he’d listened to her in the first place.
“If I’d known your seats had such top-notch lumbar support, I would’ve accepted long ago.”
Nadia was too irritated to respond to his sarcasm.
They didn’t speak again until she pulled the car into his lot, not bothering to find a parking space, just stopping as close as she could get to his walkway.
He stared straight ahead for a moment. “Well. This night didn’t go well.”
She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but it wasn’t that.
“Understatement.”
He met her gaze and held it for a few seconds, as if he was going to say more. Instead, he turned away and opened the door. “Good night, Nadia.”
He’d shut the door before she could wish him the same.
Inexplicably, tears gathered in her eyes as she watched him walk away. Just minutes before, she’d been so mad she’d wanted to punch something—and she’d never been a particularly violent person. Now… God.
He moved stiffly, ramrod straight, so that someone who didn’t know him couldn’t tell what he’d been through in the past month. But his pace and that subtle catch with every step gave it away. He went at the speed of someone forty years older. The contradiction between the way he looked—young, strong and, okay, admittedly hot—and the way his body obviously felt…
She couldn’t have stayed mad if she’d wanted to. Her throat tightened with sympathy, sadness. And as he’d suggested, guilt. If she hadn’t been out in that storm…
With blurred vision, she stared after him until he turned the corner out of her sight.
His life had been rocked irrevocably, and she ached to be able to wrap her arms around him and make it better.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THERE WAS NO POINT in going back to work tonight. Nadia was done emotionally.
Ten minutes after Penn left, she dried her eyes and pointed her car toward Faith’s, hoping like crazy it wasn’t too late to drop in. In the pre-Joe days, she wouldn’t have hesitated. She, Faith and Mercedes had always had that kind of friendship, where the hour didn’t matter. If something was wrong, they sought each other out.
Tonight qualified.
As she drove, she didn’t try to pinpoint what was wrong. Didn’t want to think about it too hard. She just proceeded on instinct, knowing she didn’t want to be alone, didn’t really want to hang out with her mom, definitely didn’t feel capable of being productive.
After parking in the street, Nadia climbed one level to Faith’s front door, relieved to see lights shining out from inside. She knocked softly.
The outdoor light went on and Nadia blinked in the brightness. She felt herself being looked at through the peephole, and then the door opened.
“Hey, you,” Faith said with a smile. She wore yoga pants and a sports tank, and Nadia’s gaze automatically went to Faith’s middle. Faith’s followed. “Can’t see the baby yet. Everything looks the same but…” Her laugh was a touch bittersweet. “Everything’s different. Come on in.”
“Am I interrupting anything?” Nadia asked, glancing around for Joe. Their two cats were curled up together on the easy chair but they seemed to be the only other living creatures present.
“Not at all. I was just working on some wedding details and was about to go for the Ben and Jerry’s. Joe’s on duty so there’s no one to stop me.”
“Don’t look at me to hold you back. Pregnant women are supposed to exist on ice cream. You have to get your calcium.”
“See, that’s exactly what I needed. Logic.” Faith led her to the kitchen and went directly for the freezer. “Want some?”
Nadia shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
Faith studied her more closely as she took a pint container out. “Ice cream doesn’t require you to be hungry. It slides in the
cracks. What’s going on?” When she set the container on the counter, she narrowed her eyes. “Have you been crying?”
Nadia lifted her chin and stared up at the ceiling, willing herself not to start again.
“You have. What’s wrong, Nadia?”
Nadia exhaled in a cross between a laugh and a sigh. “Good question. Penn came to the hotel tonight.”
“To see you?”
“He said he was on a walk to get out of his condo.”
Faith turned her back on the ice cream and gave Nadia her full attention. “And he just happened by the Silver Sands. Oh, and you just happened to be there, of course.” She grinned knowingly. “I’d say between that and your supersecret visit to his place the other night, something’s going on between you two.”
“It’s not like that.” Nadia leaned against the dishwasher, unable to even fake any lightness or nonchalance.
“You’re not attracted to him?”
She briefly thought about their awkward but memorable kiss. “That’s not the point.”
“Okaaay.” Faith crossed her arms, still staring at Nadia. “Talk to me. Tell me the point. And everything else.”
The breath Nadia took in was shaky. “I feel terrible about his injury. It’s my fault he lost his career. My fault he’s walking around in pain.”
“Oh, no, Nadia.” Faith left the ice cream sitting on the counter and locked her arm with Nadia’s, dragging her out to the living room. “Let’s sit down.”
They curled up on a love seat in the corner, facing each other. Nadia picked up a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest. She briefly told Faith how Penn had strained his back getting up, how he’d been so physically fatigued he could barely walk. “He wouldn’t let me give him a ride home.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Faith said. “Firefighters are a proud, stubborn breed. Especially the male ones.”
“He’s not a firefighter anymore. His career is ove—” Nadia darted a look at her friend, realizing Penn might not be the only one in those circumstances. “Crap. I’m sorry, Faith.”
Faith shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’m thinking seriously about going back to work once the baby is born.”
“Good for you,” Nadia said. “If anyone can balance it, it’s you two.”
Faith shrugged, not looking entirely sure of herself. “Back to you and Penn. Sometimes all you can do is try. You gave him the option of not walking home. He chose not to take it. What are you supposed to do, force him into your car?”
“Well…” Nadia’s lips quivered upward at the corners. “Yeah. Pretty much.” She recounted the rest of the story. “He definitely didn’t thank me when he got out of the car.”
“Y chromosome.”
“He was moving so slowly, Faith. Not quite walking right. This big, beautiful, burly man can barely move and it’s killing me.”
“You have to let go of that guilt, hon. As a firefighter, he had a dangerous job. We all know that going into it and, believe me, we’re reminded of it every time we go out on a run.”
“I can’t let it go. He won’t let me.”
“What?” Faith sounded scandalized.
“He blames me. He already resented my dedication to my job because of when I had to cancel our dates.”
“How do you know he blames you?”
“He’s said things. He blows up at me.”
“And you’ve bought into the idea that it’s your fault.”
“If I hadn’t decided to go back to the office for files at the last minute, I wouldn’t have needed to be rescued. He wouldn’t have been injured.”
“You don’t have anything to feel guilty about. A piece of debris disabled your car, Nadia. You didn’t push him to the ground yourself.”
Nadia eyed her, annoyed with the drama. “Gray area. Nothing was intentional, but that doesn’t mean I’m not responsible. If a driver runs someone over without meaning to and kills the person, he’s still guilty.”
“In this case, then, the debris is guilty.”
“You’re warped,” she told Faith.
“But I’m right.” Faith leaned forward to emphasize her point. “If our roles were reversed, you’d tell me the same thing.”
“Maybe,” Nadia conceded, “but being able to see that logically doesn’t take away the regret.”
“Fair enough. It doesn’t help if he’s quick to remind you.”
“Right. I want to help but I think I only make things worse when I’m with him.”
“Maybe stepping away and giving him space would be best.”
Nadia pursed her lips as if that could hold in all the emotions storming through her. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I can’t.”
“You care about him,” Faith said, her voice gentle. “You liked him a lot before you ever went out.”
“I thought he was good-looking,” Nadia clarified. “I didn’t know him enough to ‘like him a lot.’ Even after our disastrous half date, I didn’t know him.” It’d been obvious from the first time they’d met—or even before they’d officially been introduced, really—that he was easygoing and well liked. Whenever she’d seen him at bars and firefighter gatherings, he’d been surrounded by people, frequently laughing. She’d been drawn to that, just like everyone else.
“You do now.”
“I know him better. Weren’t you in desperate need of ice cream?” Nadia hopped up and hurried to the kitchen to get both of them some.
“Nice,” Faith said, following her. “At least try to be less obvious about your avoidance.”
Nadia took a large spoon out of the silverware drawer and jabbed it into the softened ice cream. Drops of it splattered out. She licked her fingers and grabbed two bowls from the cabinet. “What all is in this stuff?” she asked as she scooped out the vanilla with…lots of somethings.
“Cake, chocolate, sugar, calcium, as you mentioned.”
“As long as it’s health food. I had cookies for dinner.”
“You need to stop living like a single man.” Faith took one of the bowls and got spoons out for both of them.
“I live like a single woman who works long hours.”
They wandered back out to the living room and retook their seats.
“You were about to admit your feelings for Penn,” Faith said with her mouth half-full and a wicked grin.
Trying to convince Faith she wasn’t attracted to Penn was futile, and besides, that attraction wasn’t the issue here. Not exactly.
Nadia scooped a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, closed her eyes and let the first bite sit on her tongue. “Pure heaven. Why do we bother with such things as meat and veggies?” She took another bite.
“Stalling,” Faith said, drawing out the word.
She stared at her bowl, stirred the melting ice cream in it. “He’s not handling anything very well. He’s just wasting away, and if I let him, that’s just going to add to my guilt. And yeah, I do care about him.”
Faith nodded once, as if gratified Nadia had finally fessed up.
Nadia filled her spoon but set it down without eating. “I shouldn’t even tell you this because you’ll never let it go.” She bit her lip and met Faith’s gaze. “The night Mercedes and I had dinner here? When I went to Penn’s beforehand?”
“Yeah?”
“I kissed him.”
Faith leaned forward, one hand braced on her thigh, the other gripping her bowl. “I knew there was more to the story. You kissed him?”
“Yes. So I guess I’m busted. I care about him. I’m attracted to him. But there’s no way anything could develop because of all the bad mojo between us.”
“Mojo in this case being his anger toward you and your feeling guilty.”
“Bingo.”
“So the first step is for you to work through your guilt.”
Nadia scoffed. “Yeah, right. How?”
“Be there for him. And if he throws the blame at you again, remind yourself he’s mad at his situation and that what happened wa
s an accident.”
It made perfect sense to the logical part of Nadia’s brain. “I’ll work on it. I can be there for him. It’s harder to let his anger roll off my back.”
“If it gets too hard, you always have the option of walking away.”
Nadia nodded slowly. She wasn’t ready to desert Penn, even when he acted the way he did tonight.
“Until you reach that point, Great-grandma Hamlin’s cookies never hurt.”
Nadia breathed a little easier. “Chocolate chip cookies can sometimes work wonders.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell Mercedes and me about the kiss before now.”
“I had this suspicion you might make a big deal of it,” Nadia said dryly.
Faith reached out for Nadia’s empty bowl, stacked it with hers and set them on the end table behind her.
“We’ve accomplished ice-cream-ness. Now what wedding stuff are you working on?” Nadia asked. “What can I help with?”
“Thought you’d never ask. Will you help me decide on a centerpiece style for the reception? I found several online that I think we could make.”
Nadia followed her to the computer on the built-in desk in the kitchen. After her own dilemma, centerpieces were a welcome walk in the park.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
VODKA MADE JUST ABOUT everything better.
It was true of cooking, as far as Penn was concerned. He hoped it was true of food, as well, as he consulted his laptop and reread the online recipe for penne alla vodka for the third time.
Far be it from his sister to stock his kitchen with things like frozen pizzas and Hamburger Helper. Evil wench that she was, Zoe had bought ingredients for a handful of fancy dishes before she’d left. He either had to drag his butt to the store for something else or break down and figure out how to cook them. He wasn’t a complete novice in the kitchen but anything with more than about five ingredients was a stretch.
He pulled out his phone to text his sure-to-be-smug sister.
What the hell is molto al dente and what’s so bad about boxed mac and cheese?
Her response was almost immediate. Basically it’s when the pasta is almost done. Anything that orange besides carrots and yams surely causes some kind of terminal disease.