Falling Hard

by Tina Wainscott

  He gave her a sly smile. “Yeah, funny.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I just did that, didn’t I?”

  “I was trying to think of something to say, too. The sunset? Cliché. Warn you about watching where you walk? Kinda late for that, and I think you already have the idea.”

  Her soft, grateful smile warmed him. “Thanks.”

  He shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

  As they continued to walk in silence, maybe to test themselves, his mind churned. They shouldn’t be this comfortable with each other. Shouldn’t be spending so much time together. And he sure as hell shouldn’t be fighting the urge to take her hand in his, weave his fingers in hers, and tug her closer.

  They passed a boy of around twelve fishing next to one of those industrial paint buckets. His tackle box sat nearby, open to an array of lures and hooks, and a pelican stood a couple of feet away.

  Pax wandered over. “Hey, Jacob.”

  The kid had just cast, and he turned while keeping his eye on his line. “Oh, hey ya, Pax.”

  “Where’s your mama?”

  He nodded down the beach. “She didn’t want me hooking her, so I came down here. I’m just learning how to fish. But I caught one!” He tipped the bucket to show a small flounder.

  “Excellent—and good eating, too.” Pax glanced up to see the pelican waddle closer. “I’m gonna give you a little advice. See that fella?”

  “Yeah. He’s been hanging around, but he must not be hungry ’cause he’s not even looking in the bucket. He’s my new buddy.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s conning you. Making you think he’s benign and disinterested. Soon as you turn away long enough, he’ll be on the bucket. You’ll run over and try to chase him off, but he’ll flap his big ole wings and set you straight. Don’t let him hang around at all.” Pax stretched out his arms and ran in the bird’s direction. “Git!”

  The pelican did a fly-hop a few feet away, then, realizing that Pax was still gunning for him, took off. Harley joined in, barking and wagging his tail.

  “If he comes back, shoo him off, ’kay?” Pax said. “It’s like leaving your steak on the coffee table while you go in the kitchen as your dog’s lying there looking for all the world blasé.” He hooked his thumb to said dog. “Trust me, he’s not. He’s just waiting for the opportunity, ’cause he’s an animal. It’s instinct. You abandon your food, and it’s fair game.”

  Jacob nodded. “Thanks, Pax.”

  Pax fished out his business card. “If you want to go fishing, give me a call. I’ll teach you the finer points. Good luck.” As they walked way, he said, “That was me, growing up here. Spent about half my life on these shores. Even made myself a little business, filleting my catch and selling it.”

  She looked back at Jacob and seemed to imagine him as a young Pax. At least he hoped so, judging by the warm smile on her face. “Very enterprising.”

  “I liked having my own money so I could spend it as I wanted.”

  “It was sweet of you to offer to teach him how to fish.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I wish I’d had someone to show me. My daddy was into sports, not fishing. He was pissed that I ‘wasted’ my time on it when I should have been trying to bulk up and train, like—”

  “Blake,” she finished.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring him up.”

  “He’s your brother. It’s inevitable.” She toed a pink shell out of the sand and scrubbed out the sand as she’d done the other day. “Sounds like that pelican incident wasn’t just an anecdote.”

  “ ’Fraid not. When I was about his age, I had one terrorizing me. It felt that way, anyway, ’cause I was still a runt. That’s how Raleigh and I got to be friends. He helped, though he says he saved me.” Pax rolled his eyes, enjoying Gemma’s soft laugh.

  “If it doesn’t hurt to let him believe it, why not?”

  “Only my ego. I fancied myself a self-sufficient sort of kid.”

  “It’s okay to be saved once in a while.”

  He wanted to save her. To vindicate her, even if it meant bulldozing his brother. He wanted to be her hero, but he wasn’t sure he was hero material.

  “I remember a big dredging project that was all everyone talked about when I lived here,” she said, stepping over a clump of rocks. “They were trying to make the beaches more attractive to tourists, but environmentalists opposed it. Whatever happened to that?”

  “The hotels and developers won. Storms washed some of it down here, which pissed them off but helped the park, so the locals benefited, too.”

  “I remember this being mostly rocks. Now there are sandy parts where you can walk around them.”

  Her bare feet left imprints on the moist sand, which in turn clung to the edges of her polished toes. A small gold ring was wrapped around her second toe. More evidence of that girl she’d once been. The one he suspected she’d buried.

  He shifted his gaze to the open ocean beyond, the clouds turning fluorescent orange as the sun began to touch the horizon. That way, he could look at Gemma in his peripheral vision without being obvious. Her skin was flawless, her mouth soft and lush.

  He sure as hell shouldn’t be wanting to kiss her. Unfortunately, he’d had a taste of her. Of her body fitted against his, and how her skin felt against his lips.

  She looked ahead to the sign that read ST. JOSEPH NATIONAL PARK BOUNDARY and stopped, all the peacefulness fleeing from her expression. He searched for what—or who—had stolen it. There were people in the distance, groups and couples set up to watch the sunset, but they were too far away for him to discern their identity.

  But she wasn’t looking their way. She stared off toward the dunes, small hills covered in sea oats that fell away to a thicket of Australian pines.

  “This is where it happened, isn’t it?” he said, when he’d only meant to think it.

  She nodded very slowly, her mouth in a tight line. “I didn’t realize—”

  “Let’s go back.”

  He started to turn around, but she remained. “Maybe I did, subconsciously.” She trudged through the soft sand, and he followed at a distance. “It’s time to face the ghosts of my past.” Her voice trembled despite her assertion.

  He followed, giving her space but having her back. She seemed to search for the exact spot, swaying slightly in the sand.

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “It’s time to put this…this scene to rest.” She walked steadily toward the smooth sand where the waves washed up. “The bonfire was here. I thought it was so cool to be at a bonfire party like I’d seen on TV. The same way I thought I was cool plopping down on Blake’s lap. Yeah, I wanted to feel and look worldly. I nodded when the girls talked about going down on a guy or did the wink-wink-nudge-nudge as they talked about slipping off alone with their boyfriends.”

  Pax stood just behind her, staring at the imaginary party, even though he only saw a flock of sandpipers chasing the ebb and flow of the waves. He didn’t want to picture Gemma on Blake’s lap, though. “It wasn’t unusual for kids to sneak into the woods, but I’d say about half the time those girls didn’t go all the way. I heard the guys whining about how they’d let them get to about third base before cutting things off. Other times, I heard their wink-wink-nudge-nudge version of events, knowing they were dreaming it up.”

  Harley trotted down the shore, chasing off the sandpipers.

  She glanced at Pax before returning her gaze to the dunes. “For most of the party, I was looking for you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “I don’t know, since I’d blown it with you. But like you said, I was drawn to you even when I was with your brother. I felt disappointed when we first arrived and I didn’t see you. Every time more people came, I hoped it was you.” She stood only a foot away, looking at him with big, sad eyes. “I knew I’d made a mistake, and I think that’s why I accepted the first couple of drinks. I wanted to dull the pain of it. After that, I lost track of how much I’d drunk. Blake kept filling m
y cup.”

  She’d made a mistake. Was she talking about not choosing him?

  Pax took her hand, stroking her palm. “I wished I’d been there, too.” He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to go through it again. Truthfully, he couldn’t bear to hear it. But if she could survive that, he could handle her need to say the words.

  She turned toward the dunes. “I told Blake that I had no intention of even going to third base when he asked if I wanted to ‘get away from the crowd.’ I did, at that point. I was over the drinking and the raucous noise. He grabbed a blanket and rolled us up inside like a taco.”

  Her fingers had twined with his, tightening almost painfully. Tears welled in her eyes. “He smashed his mouth over mine in that awful way he kissed me. I kept saying no. I tried to push him away, but his hands were everywhere, grabbing my breasts and asking if they were real.” She choked on a bitter laugh. “Like I’d get a boob job at sixteen. I didn’t answer him, because it was so stupid, and so irrelevant to what was going on. I just wanted him to stop.”

  “Bastard.” Pax’s stomach sank. His brother had twisted her words, taking her no as an answer and not an order. He had to stop himself from tightening his fingers even more before he crushed her hand the way he wanted to crush Blake’s throat.

  She pulled their linked hands to her stomach, but her gaze was fixed on the dunes. “His hand slipped between my legs, and I felt a jolt of terror. That’s when I knew he was going to take me, and I couldn’t stop him. I could barely move, and tears clogged my throat, making it hard to talk. The world was spinning. He said he knew I wanted this, that I was only pretending to be a good girl. But I was really a wild child, and that wildness ignited something in him that he couldn’t stop. He let me put up a supposed protest, ‘if that makes you feel better,’ ” she intoned in a low voice, imitating his.

  Pax had to hold every curse word he’d ever heard. No wonder she doubted her culpability. And Blake was more insidious than Pax could ever guess, placing that blame on her during the act. Even worse than The Devil made me do it. He was insinuating that she’d made him do it.

  She took a halting breath. “I heard a packet crinkle. Looking back, I thank God that he used a condom. At the time, though, terror and disbelief froze me. Luckily, he didn’t last long. Afterward, know what he said? ‘This was fun. We can have fun all school year, until I leave. But remember, I never made any promises.’ ”

  “I’m so sorry.” Pax wanted to replace those forced kisses with soft ones. Hardly appropriate, considering what she’d just relived. Instead, he wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “So, so sorry.”

  Despite the tears, her eyes were clear. “I feel better now.”

  “You were a…you’d never—”

  “You can’t say the word ‘virgin’? Does it make you that uncomfortable?”

  “It makes me sick; it caves me in that he was your first.” He rubbed his face. “I can’t begin to process what you went through. Then and afterward. I imagine it must have tainted the idea of sex.”

  “It ruined everything I thought sex and romance was. It convinced me that the movies and the romance novels and what the girls tittered about in bathrooms were a farce. A conspiracy. For a long time, I couldn’t think about it without my stomach turning. Then I became numb to it. I dated a little, and I did…well, you know. Have sex. It was okay. I didn’t panic or have flashbacks or puke.”

  “Just what every guy aspires to do for his love,” he teased with a smile.

  “God, it sounds awful when I say it out loud.” She tapped her temple. “It sounds much better in here. But I wasn’t a girl they loved, and they were just guys I was hoping to exorcise my memories with.”

  Everything in him screamed to show her that it could be so much better than okay. But he needed a sign that she was ready to break out of her numbness. Coming back to the scene of the crime had been cathartic for her. Telling him what had happened even more so. He could see it in her eyes, her strength and her resolve.

  “I’m proud of you for coming here,” he said. “For facing it.”

  She gave him a chagrined smile. “Thank you for being here. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

  “It wasn’t. But not because it was my brother. I hate that you went through that. I hate that things—”

  “Weren’t different.” She drew her fingers along his arm, down to his inner wrist. “Me, too. The women in my therapy group who’d been raped by strangers feared closed-in spaces, dark alleys, deserted parking lots. I feared people I thought were friends. I wasn’t sure which was worse. But I quit attending the group two years ago, needing to leave my status of rape survivor behind and just be Gemma. Gemma, who could be a mostly normal woman.”

  She was damned brave, this one. He owed it to her to be just as courageous when it came to stopping his brother.

  Harley’s barking jerked his attention down the beach as the dog chased several seagulls into flight. Long shadows reached across the sand and rocks now.

  “We’d better get back,” he said. “Or we’ll be feeling our way in the dark.”

  It was easy keeping their hands linked as he led them back. She gave a slight squeeze, even though she kept her eyes on the ground in front of her. A small sign. He didn’t want to say anything to spoil this precious link.

  They passed Jacob, who was heading toward the park. “The pelican came back, but I chased him off again. And look!” He tilted his bucket to show off two fish.

  “Good job.”

  “See you soon, Pax!” The kid headed off, leaning a little to counterbalance the weight of the bucket.

  Pax led her around the rocks as best he could, but she yelped in pain and stumbled. He caught her before she fell, his arm going around her waist. “You okay?”

  She lifted her foot, inspecting it in the near-dark. “I don’t know what I stepped on, but it was sharp. Ouch,” she said after pressing the offending spot. She looked ahead at what appeared to be a long stretch of obstacles and rocks. “How much farther, do you think?”

  “A distance. I’m so used to walking these beaches, it’s almost second nature. Want a ride? You can sit up on my shoulders. You know, like when kids play chicken?”

  She seemed to consider that. “That’s going to be hard on your shoulders and neck.”

  “You’re a little thing.” He knelt and patted his back. “Hop on.” After a second’s hesitation, she climbed on. Once she was balanced, he slowly rose. “You comfortable?” he asked. “Hold on to my head if you need to. I’ll hold your legs, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure.” Her hands came down around his jaw, a light touch for balance. “I’m good if you are.”

  “I’m good.” And he meant that. She felt right, snugged onto his shoulders, his hands on her firm calves. “Let’s go.”

  “I feel like a kid again, on my dad’s shoulders,” she said, a playful tone to her voice.

  He sure didn’t feel like her father. Pax wanted her to lean over and plant a kiss on him. But he’d be happy with this much contact. For now…

  It was nearly dark when they reached the beach access. He bent down so she could dismount. She was only a few inches away as she turned to him. “Thanks. For taking care of me. And keeping me safe.”

  He couldn’t see her expression, but he could imagine it by the emotion in her voice. He brushed her cheek. “My pleasure.”

  They remained there for several more seconds, and he was about to lean forward and kiss her when she said, “I should look for my shoes. God, I’ll never find them.”

  “Harley, shoes!” Pax said.

  The dog sniffed as he zigzagged over the sand, then barked at two shadows.

  “You taught him that?” she said as she snapped them up.

  “I confess, I’m not always the best at leaving my shoes where I should. Now, if I could teach him to find my keys…”

  “I could use a key finder myself.” She balanced on one foot like a flamingo as she shoved the other into her shoe.


  He walked over. “Here, hold on to me.”

  “Thanks.” She braced one hand on his arm and clasped the strap, then switched. “You make a great pole.”

  “I’ll be whatever you need.” Her head came up, her expression shadowed enough to hide her reaction. “You ready to cross the road?” he asked in a low voice, letting her know she could take it literally or figuratively.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Hell, he could take her answer the same way. He made Harley sit three feet from the road.

  “That’s smart,” she said.

  “Harley does not have a good history where roads are concerned. I was coming out of the store when I spotted this puppy darting into the road right in front of a motorcycle.”

  She knelt down and petted the dog. “Oh, no. Was he hurt bad?”

  “He had some cuts and bruises, and his leg was broken. I ran him to the emergency vet and then took care of him during rehab. Meanwhile, I’d posted flyers and had the newspaper run a notice on the stray, but no one came forward.”

  “Oh, that’s even more sad,” she said, genuine sympathy in her voice.

  Pax had to smile. The woman who was afraid of dogs. “But there’s a happy ending. ’Cause he totally grew on me, the bugger, so I kept him.”

  “And I’m guessing the motorcycle that hit him was a Harley-Davidson?”

  “I know, not very imaginative. But it was supposed to be a temporary name. It kinda stuck.”

  She petted the dog’s head before standing. “It’s perfect.”

  They crossed and headed toward the B&B. Harley hunted down some critter that scurried into the bushes. It was fully dark now, the steps of the B&B lit by landscape lighting that washed over the walkway and the entrance.

  Pax wasn’t a man of subtleties and innuendos. He paused just before the stairs and turned around. “Gemma, I—”

  She stepped up on the step and kissed him. Her arms went around his neck and she pressed closer. “I hope you weren’t going to say, ‘Gemma, I don’t want to kiss you.’ ”

  He chuckled. “Hell, no. I was going to come right out and say it: when I asked if you were ready to cross the road, I wasn’t talking about that road.” He pointed behind them. “I want to show you that it can be much better than okay. If you trust me.”