Falling Hard

by Tina Wainscott

  “Gemma?” Her name, spoken with concern as he came closer.

  Some part of her longed for him to put his arms around her and just hold her. Which was crazy, because she absolutely wanted no such thing. But she nearly crumpled when his strong, warm hand closed over her shoulder. “Gemma?”

  She wanted to lean back against him the way Mia had done with Raleigh, and the shock of that need rocked her. He was only touching her out of the same sense of chivalry that had prompted him to help her with the tire, but it felt like so much more.

  “I shouldn’t have come back,” she whispered to no one in particular. “I don’t belong here. I never did.” Without looking his way, she whispered, “I need to leave,” and raced down the stairs, praying that she didn’t trip. Only when she reached the bottom did she remember her reason for coming. She turned, relieved to find Pax still at the top of the stairs.

  The honking of a loud horn drew their attention to a truck pulling in. Pax frowned, obviously perplexed.

  She cleared her throat. “It’s a surprise from my dad. That’s why I came out, to make sure you were here to receive it. He arranged for new bleachers to be delivered.”

  His face lit up. “Bleachers? New bleachers?” He zipped down the stairs, pausing when he skipped the bottom five steps, and landed next to her. “Look, Gemma—”

  “Go, take the delivery.”

  She nearly ran across the track to her car, which was blocking the truck’s passage. Her father would understand why she needed to leave. This was too hard. Too painful.

  As she pulled around the truck and out of the track, Mia’s words echoed in her mind: I thought I’d lost the love of my life. When Fate wants you to be with someone, though, she uses all her dirty tricks to work her magic.

  Chapter 5

  Pax was torn between chasing after Gemma and meeting the waiting truck driver. Her closed-up posture told him to leave her be. Something had set her off. As he sprinted toward the truck, he tried to figure out if he’d said or done anything wrong. He’d touched her, but not in a threatening or inappropriate way.

  “Got some bleachers for you,” the guy said as he stepped down from the cab with a clipboard.

  Bleachers. Wade had bought bleachers, no small purchase.

  “A-stounding,” Pax said, reaching for the pen and the clipboard to sign the slip.

  He glanced over at Gemma in her car and gave her a thumbs-up with a questioning look. She halfheartedly returned the gesture and drove away.

  “Where do you want them?” the driver asked, pulling Pax’s attention back to the task at hand.

  He pointed to the mangled set. “Eventually, they’ll go there. For now, we’ll lay them out on the tarmac next to them.”

  “Mr. Thornton said the old bleachers would be dismantled and ready for me to take back.”

  “He might have planned on taking them down yesterday, but he was in an accident. I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you’ll help dismantle them.” He saw Raleigh and Mia heading over, Harley racing ahead of them.

  “Sounds like a deal.”

  Once they’d broken down the old bleachers, the delivery guy used a small forklift to carry the boxes of parts and the long metal benches to a staging area. Raleigh and Mia jumped right into action, placing everything in specific piles for assembly later. Pax would need to have new concrete poured for the anchors first.

  As soon as the driver left, and they’d lined up the last boxes and parts, Pax sensed an odd anticipation from his friends. Sure enough, they were looking at him. “What?”

  “Gemma came here,” Raleigh said.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “That was interesting.”

  Interesting was an understatement. He’d been shocked as hell. And, oddly, gratified to show her the track. Their dream, as she’d put it. She’d seemed to pay attention, too. “She was just making sure I was here for the delivery, that’s all.”

  “More interesting,” Mia added, “was how abruptly she left. She looked upset.”

  Pax rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been running it through my mind this whole time. I was showing her the track from the tower, and after I razzed you guys she couldn’t take her eyes off you. Then she said she had to leave, that she didn’t belong here.”

  Mia wrapped her arm around Raleigh’s, leaning against him. “Do you think she meant leave as in…leave town?”

  “I think so.” Pax should be relieved by that prospect. It shouldn’t twist him up inside.

  “And you don’t want her to go, do you?” Mia asked in a gentle voice.

  “It’d be the best thing if she did. For her,” he added. “And for me.”

  Raleigh arched his eyebrow. “I notice you didn’t answer the question.”

  “I want her gone,” Pax said decisively. “She’s trouble. And that kind of trouble I do not need. No sirree.”

  He kept that sentiment to himself when he visited Wade an hour later.

  “Hey, big guy,” he greeted. He couldn’t imagine what Gemma had felt, seeing her father like this. “How’re you feelin’?”

  Wade’s face was still swollen, but he managed a stiff smile. “I’m alive.”

  “And that’s a good thing.”

  “Thank you”—he licked his dry lips—“for helping Gemma with her tire.” His voice was rough, raw, but Pax could sense the man’s appreciation and happiness.

  Pax lifted a shoulder. “No big deal.”

  “It was. For you.”

  “It was nice of her to come down, considering. And, speaking of nice, that was an incredible surprise, the bleachers. Thanks for doing that.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t have the old ones removed. That was my plan for today.”

  “It’s all right, really. Raleigh, Mia, and the driver helped me take care of it.”

  Pax showed him pictures of all the boxes and parts on his phone. Wade said nothing about Gemma’s leaving, so Pax didn’t, either. Considering that the man was so happy to have his daughter here, Pax felt bad that she was going.

  A nurse came in, giving both men a soft smile. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir. Mr. Thornton needs a few procedures that he probably won’t want company for.”

  Pax patted the bed next to Wade’s arm. “I’ll take care of her.” Another promise he shouldn’t be making.

  He collected Harley from the patio at the back of the hospital and headed to the B&B to check on the workers’ progress. He wondered if Gemma would be there. Packing, maybe. Or would she already be gone? That would be for the best.

  But he felt relief when he saw her car in the garage. Because he could clear up any misunderstanding that might have occurred at the track. Yeah, that was all.

  He liked seeing the Dumpster nearly full of broken cabinet pieces. The mangled oven caught the sunlight and nearly blinded him as he passed. He surveyed the nearly gutted kitchen as one of the guys dumped a dustpan full of dirt into a garbage can. Another hefted a chunk of wood and carried it out.

  “Should be cleaned out by this evening,” the remaining one said.

  “Looks like you’ve been busy. Good job.”

  The only appliances left were the commercial refrigerator and freezer units, which were in their original positions. Hard to believe that only last week Pax was leaning against the island chatting with Wade about bleachers while they snacked on some experimental crackers Wade had just baked. They’d been awful, and the two had laughed over the different ways they might be used. Ninja stars had won over Wade’s gambling-chip idea.

  “Have you seen Gemma this afternoon?” Pax asked casually.

  “Yeah, she came in, went upstairs, and then came back down with a small bag and walked out the front. You and her must be having a real doozy, because she sure looked upset.”

  The idea of that twanged Pax’s stomach. Then he realized what the guy had said. “You didn’t…say anything to her, did you?”

  The guy rubbed the bristle on his chin. “How could I not say something? I told
her I hoped you two could work it out.”

  Pax tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Did I overstep my bounds? I was just trying to help.”

  “No, no, it’s all right. What did she say?”

  The guy winced. “Sorry to say, she mumbled, ‘I doubt it.’ Damn, if I messed up—”

  “We’re not a couple. It’s my fault that I didn’t clarify.” He needed to find her. He whistled for Harley and headed out the front door, looking for her. She had a small bag, which meant that she was definitely leaving. He walked all around the building, finding no sign of her.

  He glanced across the street to the Gulf, gleaming green in the sun. “Come on, buddy.” After making the dog sit and wait for traffic, they crossed and walked through the narrow pass. The beach here, strewn with rocks, mostly served the residents nearby. There was no public parking area. A few people had found patches of smooth sand on which to set up their chairs and towels. Two kids raced toward the water carrying buckets.

  Normally, he’d see the sun glinting off the smooth water and think: fishing. He’d spent many an afternoon and evening fishing off the beach before he was old enough to buy a skiff. The beach brought back memories of being a carefree kid, whiling away hours hoping for a tug on his line. Feeling an accomplishment as he strapped his ice chest full of fish onto his bike for the long haul home. Or loaded it into Raleigh’s car. Fishing on the beach was how they’d met many years ago.

  But now Pax was thinking about Gemma. He searched to the north, then to the south. The sight of a woman crouched down on the wet sand, her back to him, bumped up his heartbeat. Must be her.

  She was still crouched as he approached from behind. Sunlight gleamed on her ash-blond hair. Not platinum, as she’d had before. She’d shed her shirt, revealing a black tank top on creamy, pale skin. She was poised behind one of those professional-looking cameras, a long lens pointed at a small hole in the sand. Waves washed up, gently lapping at her bare feet, her toes tipped with dark pink polish. Remembering how she thought he’d sneaked up on her before, he simply waited for her to stand.

  Finally, a crab climbed out of the hole, and she snapped several pictures as it scurried across the sand. She looked like a crab herself, following in a crouch, snapping away. Click, click, click.

  The crab disappeared into another hole, and Gemma stood and turned. “Ah!”

  “I didn’t sneak up on you, I swear.”

  She gripped her camera, even though it was hanging around her neck. “I didn’t expect to see you here, of all places. What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “Looking for you.”

  She blinked at that. “Hoping I’d gone already?”

  “No.”

  “I figured you’d be doing a jig at the thought.”

  “We need to talk about what happened at the track. Did I do something to scare you? Threaten you? I guess it was a bad idea, inviting you up to a small, enclosed space. I wouldn’t want you to think I was putting moves on you—”

  “It wasn’t you. I’m not afraid of you, okay?”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want you to feel that way.”

  “Why would you care? It’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing. “Was that what upset you? I know it was harsh, but—”

  “You give yourself way too much credit, Paxton. You did not crush me by stating that we weren’t friends. I know we’re not friends. That we can’t ever be friends.” Her voice had softened on the last sentence.

  “ ‘Paxton’?”

  “That’s what Dad calls you.”

  He kind of liked it when she said it, even if she had been reprimanding him. “So what upset you?”

  “Why should you care?”

  “I don’t know, but I do.” He fisted his hand to his stomach. “Gets me right here when a gal’s upset.”

  “Even me?”

  “Yeah, even you.”

  “Well, you can take your chivalry and—” She paused, letting him assume that she was going to make a rather uncomfortable suggestion. “Tuck it in your back pocket,” she finished instead. “It’s not necessary.”

  “Actually, it is. And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because I know when nothing’s something. It’s one of those things women do that drive me crazy.”

  She studied him, her skepticism fading by degrees. “So if I say ‘nothing,’ I’m doing a disservice to all womankind?”

  “Exactly.”

  “You put a lot of pressure on me, Paxton.” With a sigh, she sank to the sand, her legs crossed, and set her camera on her lap. “If you must know—”

  “I do.”

  “You don’t give up.”

  “I don’t.”

  After emitting a long sigh, she said, “Being here…it’s hard, that’s all.”

  “It took a lot of guts to come back.”

  “I’ve never been a wimp.” She picked up a shell and rubbed the inner curve of it, dislodging the sand encrusted inside. “I take that back. I was a wimp once when—” Her eyes met his, then shifted back to the shell. “Never mind.”

  He sank to the sand a few feet in front of her, propping his arms on his bent knees. “When?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She stared past him, still scraping that shell. “What’s past is past.”

  “But it’s not, is it? Not when you’re here.”

  She shifted her gaze to him. “Forget what I was blabbering about.”

  “I’ve been racking my brains, but I can’t think of anything I said or did to set you off. Take me out of my misery.”

  She tilted her head, hopefully seeing that he was serious. “It wasn’t you. Just seeing Raleigh and Mia cuddling up, the warmth of your friendship with them, on top of going into the café and hearing two women whispering about me…it just hit me hard. I was an outsider then, and I’m even more of an outsider now.”

  I wanted…to…belong. Her earlier words, when he’d been changing her tire, came back and tied him in knots. “I know what you mean.”

  “How could you? You grew up here. You have friends, a history here.”

  He picked up a shell and flicked it several yards away. “Trust me, I know.” He wasn’t going to delve into just where he didn’t fit in, where he felt like a misfit. But he could at least let her know that he empathized. Not that it mattered; she was giving him that skeptical look again. “You tell me why you were a wimp once, and I’ll tell you why I understand,” he said.

  She glanced away, backing down, as he knew she would. “Why do the workers think we’re a couple?”

  “Oh, that.” He gave her a chagrined smile. “They jumped to a conclusion, and I didn’t feel like explaining.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You do that a lot, don’t you? Let people assume things.”

  “I guess I got tired of explaining myself a long time ago and stopped. I set the workmen straight. Besides, we’re a little complicated, don’t you think?”

  That got a laugh out of her. “No doubt.”

  He spotted the black bag the guy had probably seen her carrying. A camera case, he guessed. “Nice camera. Looks professional. Is that what you do for a living?”

  She nodded as she stroked the ridges along the lens. “I’m a portrait photographer at my mom’s studio. She’s been doing it for years. Kids, families, weddings.” She picked up the camera and aimed it at Harley, who was in the middle of a standoff with one of those crabs, and snapped a few pictures. “And pets.”

  She surprised him by aiming the camera at him.

  “And people you don’t like?” he added.

  She shrugged. “You have a very photogenic face. Nice cheekbones. Kind eyes. I love faces. I have a whole collection of close-ups. I suppose it was rude to take your picture without asking. Want me to delete it?”

  “I don’t care. You can use it for dart practice.”

  She laughed, quick and soft. “Maybe.”

  It felt odd, sitting
there with her as though they were indeed friends. The breeze ruffled her hair. The sun reflected brightly off her light skin. She ran her fingers over the ridges of her lens again. Her fingernails matched her toes, a soft pink hue. He realized that he was studying her, taking in the shell of her ear and her simple hoop earrings. Her toned-down look. He found himself wanting to know about her life.

  “So…are you leaving?”

  She let out another sigh. “I want to, so bad. I went to the hospital to tell my dad. Before I could get the words out, he thanked me for being here, said it meant a lot to him. And, dammit, I couldn’t tell him. When I got back to the B&B, a guest returned my call about canceling their reservation, all panicked. He had booked it for his and his husband’s tenth anniversary. They met here eleven years ago and informally exchanged vows here a year later. They’re celebrating both their honeymoon, since they’re legally married now, and their anniversary. The timing and the place can’t change. How could I say they couldn’t come? I’m stuck.” She focused on digging a small hole with her shell shovel. “So, sorry to say, but you’re stuck with me, too.”

  “I can handle it if you can.”

  That got her attention. “I can.”

  He caught himself smiling. Okay, he was glad she was staying because of Wade. He needed his daughter here. Pax pushed to his feet before he got too comfortable. “I’d better go. Family obligations and all.”

  “Bet I’ll be the topic of conversation.” She stood, too. “My ears will be burning tonight. Heck, they’ll be in flames.” She’d said it lightly, but there was nothing light about her expression.

  He wouldn’t deny it. And he dreaded it. “Keep a fire extinguisher handy. See you later.”

  Only at that did her mouth twitch into what might be the beginning of a smile. Must be his imagination. But they had had a real exchange. A connection. Last thing he needed.

  As he walked away, his phone rang—the song he’d assigned to Janey: “Extraordinary Girl” by Green Day. “Hey, Janey.”

  “Pax! You coming tonight?” Janey didn’t talk; she gushed.

  “I’m coming by right now, hon. Get your fishin’ clothes on, ’kay?”