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Lexy’s Little Matchmaker

Page 8

by Lynda Sandoval


  Drew cocked his head in question.

  She twisted her mouth, feeling the heat rising up her chest, then indicated the sidewalks. “The city hasn’t fixed the buckled concrete on the paths from last year’s blizzard. And believe me, I’ve squawked about it. It’s just…easier to drive than maneuver around them.”

  She registered a look of…alarm? Dismay? Something discomfiting on Drew’s face. He recovered quickly, but still, she wondered what he’d been thinking. Frankly, she didn’t want to give him constant reminders that she moved through the world differently, of why she did. And that bothered her. She hadn’t been conscious of her condition since the rehabilitation center, and she hadn’t had nightmares about the accident regularly for years. Until this week. Every night.

  She wasn’t about to fall back into that snake pit of torment over a man she’d never have.

  Okay, wait. This was getting idiotic. It was lunch at the Pinecone, not a marriage proposal. And a payback lunch at that. Not even a date.

  Not even close to a date.

  She didn’t want a date! Did she? Oh, God. She sort of did. But she couldn’t. She just…couldn’t. She clutched the hand rims of her chair.

  “You okay, Lexy?” Drew asked.

  “Yes. Sorry.” She shook off the distracting thoughts. “I’ve probably had too much sun.”

  He paled. “Are you…sick?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll meet you over there, okay?”

  “Sure.” His Adam’s apple rose and fell on a thick swallow. “We’ll grab a booth.”

  She spun to leave, oddly disconcerted. This touch and go, unexpected obsession with a man after years of nada, complicated by the added obstacle of her injury and her all-consuming guilt, flat-out sucked. She was thirty-one years old and didn’t know how to do…this, whatever it was. She didn’t even know if she wanted to do it. And she sure as hell didn’t want to ask her friends about it.

  God, talk about wishy-washy.

  A feeling of futility settled over her as she made her way to her minivan. By the time she’d transferred into the driver’s seat, her chair stowed in the back, she’d come to the only decision she could handle at this point in her confusion. She’d go to lunch, but after that she’d end this silly, distracting notion of romance and refocus on her therapy, treatments and career. Who needed a man anyway?

  Lexy fired up the ignition and backed out of her parking spot. She had a soft spot in her heart for little Ian, no doubt, and would’ve enjoyed spending time with him. But he’d already become so attached to her, and she didn’t want to nurture that. It wasn’t safe and it wasn’t smart, because in the end, she’d have to disappear.

  So, she’d be just another Gulcher to Drew and Ian. Her life was just fine the way she’d built it.

  Lexy made Drew want to change his life. There it was. He’d shied away from it, but as they sat across from each other in the quaint little diner, as he looked in her eyes, as they shared getting-to-know-you conversation over coffee, he knew. She wasn’t just some woman his friends hoped to hook him up with to get him “over” Gina’s death. Lexy Cabrera was something special. She was a woman who cared about herself, her community, her friends. She was the absolute opposite of Gina, in all the ways that counted. Someone he’d love to spend more time with.

  They’d discussed her job, the incredible—in his mind—things she’d done with 9-1-1. All the saves, all the people helped. Did she even realize how amazing she was? He only wished Ian were hearing it all.

  Ian, however, was splayed out in the booth and snoozing hard before the food even arrived. But, as far as Drew was concerned, sleep took precedence over eating at this point. He brushed his son’s hair back from his face, suffused with a love so big it stole his breath. It had always been this way watching him sleep, so innocent and vulnerable.

  Did Lexy love children?

  Did she ever think about raising a child?

  It certainly seemed like it. Drew closed his eyes for a moment. He was getting way ahead of himself, falling under Lexy’s spell just like Ian had.

  “Will you wake him when the food comes?” Lexy asked softly, her elbows propped on the edge of the table, those gorgeous, slanted green eyes focused on Ian.

  Drew shook his head. “This kid always wakes up grouchy and hungry, which is something you don’t want to see, trust me. I’ll let him sleep off the grouch and feed him later.” And, frankly, he looked forward to talking to Lexy more without worrying that Ian would steal the show or ask an embarrassing question. They’d gotten past the small talk, the work talk, and now he wanted to really get to know this woman. He may have been reading too much into it, but she’d seemed pensive at the awards reception. Why? Worth a try to find out, but he got the sense he needed to ease into it. He sipped his coffee. “So, tell me about your racing.”

  Lexy cocked her head to the side. “My racing?”

  He shrugged. “I’m a bit of a jock. What can I say?”

  She smiled gently. “Well, I started out with five-K races, just to keep fit, and now I’m up to half marathons and triathlons. I have a race coming up in White Peaks. Do you know where that is?”

  “I do.”

  “I’m training pretty hard for that. It takes a lot of upper-body strength to go that long. So I lift. Swim. Swimming is my favorite.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?”

  She hesitated, and her eyes darkened with what looked like worry. “Have you ever known someone with a spinal cord injury, Drew?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  She wrapped her hands around her mug. “In the water, I feel free. Fully able-bodied. Powerful. I cut through the water with my own body strength, and that’s…something.”

  His stomach coiled with respect and, strangely, desire. He did wonder what kind of romantic life Lexy had, or wanted. That was conversation for a much, much later time. “I can understand that,” he said.

  She held up a hand. “Please don’t misunderstand. People often view my way of life with pity—”

  “I never—”

  “Not you,” she assured him. “That’s not what I meant. But, if we’re going to be…friends, you need to understand.” She lowered her chin and leveled him with a gaze. “I get the feeling you walk on eggshells around my condition a lot.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I just don’t want to offend.”

  “It’s okay, but you need to stop worrying about offending me.” She gazed past him, seeming to weigh her words. “The thing is, I’m lucky, Drew. I’m alive. Not everyone from my accident is.”

  “Ah, Lexy. I’m so sorry.”

  She dropped her gaze, and the look of pain that swept across her face made him want to hold her. “I’m fully independent. Strong. Healthy. And I take care of myself.”

  He was glad to hear that.

  “My chair isn’t a prison, like most walking people imagine. It’s…freedom to me. You move through the world on two legs. Me? On two wheels. Other than that, there are no differences between us. Well…other than the obvious. You being a man and me being—”

  “A woman,” he said, surprised at how sensual the words sounded on his lips.

  Clearly Lexy caught it, too, because a blush rose to her cheeks. “Exactly.” She swallowed carefully. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “I think so. I don’t mean to treat you as if you’re fragile. You’re clearly strong. Fit. More fit than most people I know.”

  A small smile teased up the corners of her mouth, and it tightened his jaw. “I try. Thank you. It helps with daily life, too, keeping fit. I’m able to do just about anything I want or need without help.”

  He’d ask her more about that later. Drew inter-twined his fingers and propped them under his chin. “So, where do you train?”

  Lexy laughed, and the husky sound twirled straight down to his lower abdomen and settled, tight and hot. This woman didn’t have a high-pitched giggle. No sirree. She laughed with a deep sexiness that perfectly matched her dark, sultry, pin
up-girl looks.

  “Is this a sales pitch for your gym?” she teased.

  “No, no, of course not. It’s…well, to be honest, it might’ve been a pitch. Would love to have you there.” He smiled, hoping it looked as sheepish as he felt.

  “Thank you. I’ll stop by sometime. I swim at the high school every day, and I actually get regular PT and train with a wonderful therapist, Kimberly, at the hospital, in the sports rehab wing. Cagney’s husband—”

  “Jonas, right?”

  “Wow, you’re good with names. Especially considering you got hit with tons of them today. Anyway, yeah. Jonas is one of the biggest benefactors for High Country Medical Center, and he tricked out the rehabilitation room with training machines I could only have dreamed about before. He’s a good guy, such a good friend.”

  “Sounds like it. I’d love to see the rehab room.” He flipped his hand at the inquisitive tilt of her head. “I was a coach in Virginia. Before…I have a thing about tricked-out training rooms.”

  “Well, then you should stop by.”

  “I will.”

  “What did you coach?”

  “Track and field. I have a few athletes who went on to the Olympics after college.”

  “Wow. That had to be hard to give up.”

  Drew shot a glance at Ian. “It was worth it, for him. Too many ghosts in the old house. Too many memories, and not all of them good.”

  “I understand that, believe me.”

  They fell silent for a moment while their food was delivered. “Here you go, Lex. And, Drew, isn’t it?” the waitress asked.

  “Yes, it is. Thanks. Looks great.”

  The waitress hiked her chin. “And the little guy there? That’s the newest Gulch hero, right?”

  “Sure is,” Lexy said.

  “Ian,” Drew added.

  The older woman indicated his kiddie meal. “Safe to assume you want me to box this up for Mister Ian?”

  “That would be great.” Drew smiled.

  After she left, Lexy picked up her fork and dug in to her food. Drew stilled, fork halfway between plate and mouth. Was there anything sexier than a woman who wasn’t afraid to hit a meal with gusto? Lexy was no half-size salad woman, and he appreciated that more than she knew.

  She looked up while chewing and caught him staring. Her eyebrows raised. She swallowed and dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “Starving, sorry. Is your food okay?” she asked, glancing at his untouched plate.

  “Oh. It’s great.” He took a bite as if to prove his words true.

  “Drew?” She paused, twirled her fork in thought. “Now that I’ve blathered on about my life, is it okay to ask you about Ian’s mom? About what happened? Or is that still too fresh a hurt?”

  “No. It’s…fine. It’s been two years, Lexy. Like I said, Ian and I moved here to start over.” He quirked his mouth to the side. “The little guy’s having an easier time jumping on that goal than I am, I’m afraid. I don’t intend to be a hermit forever. I just don’t want him to be hurt again.” Did he imagine it, or had she paled?

  “Of course not.”

  “He has nightmares. Wets the bed some nights. It breaks my heart. And he really misses having a woman in his life.”

  “Poor baby,” she said, her troubled gaze on Ian. But she’d definitely paled. What was that about?

  Drew straightened his flatware and situated the napkin on his lap. Shored up his composure. “Anyway, Gina was diabetic. From childhood.” He twisted his lips with regret. “Unfortunately, instead of managing her condition, living with it, she chose to laugh in its face. Problem was the disease got the last laugh.”

  “God.” Lexy widened her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded. “It was a point of contention throughout our entire marriage, her absolute recklessness with her health, even knowing she had a son who needed her.” Why had he said that? Flooded with regret, he pressed his lips flat. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he bit off. “I don’t mean to disparage her or sound resentful.” He glanced guiltily at Ian.

  To his surprise, Lexy reached across the table and covered his hand with one of her own, which seemed a bit shaky. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” She squeezed once, then released his fingers.

  He missed the feel of her warm skin on his. And besides, he had meant something by it. He had loved Gina, for sure. She was the mother of his son. But he harbored a bubbling pot of anger over the way she’d chosen to deal with her diabetes, how little regard it seemed to show for her son. Her young son who needed her.

  “I hate recklessness. That’s the thing. She and I had always planned on having a big family, but she couldn’t even take care of herself for one child.” He blew out a breath. “When she fell into the diabetic coma that day…we found her. Ian and I. After an afternoon hike. I can’t—” he shook his head “—can’t seem to evict that horrible image from my brain.”

  “I…I understand,” Lexy said, her voice wavering. She set down her fork with a bit of a clatter. “Would you…excuse me for a moment? I’m just going to run to…” She indicated the sign for the restrooms.

  “No, sure. Go ahead,” Drew said, standing as she prepared to leave the table. “Is everything okay?”

  “Of course. Yes,” she said, not sounding truthful, as she escaped as fast as possible. “I’ll be right back.”

  Once she was gone, the air seemed to have left the room. Drew sat and blew out a breath. Clearly he’d said something, done something. But what? Should he have left out his feelings about Gina’s death? Lexy had simply asked what happened, not for a list of complaints about his marriage, a rant against a dead woman. Idiot.

  He combed all ten fingers through his hair and wondered if he’d ever get this right.

  Chapter Seven

  Lexy locked herself in the small restroom and took several deep breaths to slow her heartbeat. If she’d thought her prospects for any kind of relationship with Drew were sketchy before, they’d just tumbled into the impossible realm. The one thing he couldn’t handle? Recklessness.

  How perfect was that?

  If it weren’t so damn sad, she’d laugh.

  The very trait that had changed the course of her life was the one thing he couldn’t handle. And it wasn’t as if she could hide what had happened, or take it back. The whole world knew. Her body was a physical reminder of it every day, and the truth was bound to come out sooner or later in any kind of honest relationship, which would mean there was no relationship. No. No setting herself up for failure. That wasn’t her style. She needed to cut her losses, thank Drew for lunch and escape back to comfortable reality. Now.

  Moving wearily to the sink, Lexy splashed her face with ice-cold water and dried it on a rough, brown paper towel, appreciating the chafing pain, the raw smell of the paper pulp. She stared at herself in the ancient mirror, hardly recognizing the woman staring back at her. She looked…ravaged. And she didn’t like herself this way. All this brought about by an attraction to a man?

  “No more,” she whispered. It wasn’t worth it.

  She couldn’t put herself in the position to get hurt, and she couldn’t allow Drew or Ian to relive any of the pain they’d experienced with Gina’s death.

  But how to make a quick exit? After a moment, Lexy pulled her cell phone out of her side pocket and dialed. Genean answered on the second ring.

  “Troublesome Gulch Communications, Genean speaking.”

  “Hey, G, it’s Lex.”

  “Hey! What’s up, boss? How’d the hero thing go?”

  “It was fine. Listen, I need a favor.”

  “Name it.”

  Lexy pressed her eyes closed, the sadness closing in and making her claustrophobic. “Call me in two minutes and tell me I’m needed at work, okay?”

  “Um, sure, if you want. But we’re fine here.”

  Lexy shook her head and actually smiled through her pain. “I realize that, hon. You’re doing me a favor, remember? It’s not real. I’m not a
ctually going to come there.”

  “Oh. Right! I’m getting you out of a situation.” Genean laughed, and Lexy appreciated the younger woman’s ability to laugh at herself without feeling the least bit self-conscious. She was a bit of a ditz, but an endearing one. “Okay, two minutes.”

  “Thanks.” Lexy disconnected, straightened her shoulders and pasted on a happy face. Satisfied she could pull it off, she unlocked the door and headed back toward the table.

  Drew caught sight of her and stood as she approached. Something about that chivalrous gesture squeezed her heart. Here she was, saying goodbye already, and she’d barely scratched the surface of knowing him. She didn’t even know anything about his family. Clearly, he’d been raised to be mannerly. But beyond that…

  Did he have siblings?

  Did he go all out for the Christmas holidays, or was he more of a bah-humbug sort?

  Did he watch reality TV?

  Colgate or Crest?

  Morning person or night owl?

  All those little details she’d never know. Don’t think about it, Lex. He seemed tense, watchful, until he really got a look at her. Then he relaxed a few levels, which came as a relief. Apparently she was pulling off the happy-go-lucky farce, even though her insides were imploding.

  She tossed her hair and flashed a brilliant smile. “Sorry about that. What did I miss?”

  “Nothing at all.” As he sat, he aimed a thumb at Ian. “That one’s still zonked. Are you…okay?”

  “Of course. Everything’s fine.” As if to prove her point, she picked up her fork and started in on her meal again, although the idea of food in her stomach made her ill. She took a gelatinous bite. Her throat protested as she chewed, but she willed herself to appear normal.

  “So, I apologize if I gave too much information about what happened with Gina,” Drew said.

  Lexy shook her head, waving away his concerns as so much nothingness. She swallowed the bite, then took a quick sip of water so she didn’t choke on the horror of it all. “Don’t apologize. I understand completely, and I don’t want you to think—” Her phone rang. She glanced down at her side pocket. “Excuse me just a moment. I wouldn’t answer, but that’s the work tone, unfortunately.”

 

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