“Wait.” She hurried after him as he headed for the kitchen. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. Take care of yourself, okay? Shower, sleep, food, whatever you need, Jake’s got it. I need to go.” And almost before she could blink, he was gone.
She stood in the empty bar for a long time, trying to get her bearings. It had been a whirlwind few hours, after all. Not long ago, she’d had a knife to her throat. Then she’d been crying her eyes out all over Griffin’s jacket, and they’d both used the “love” word.
Now—now, she’d screwed up everything again.
She fingered the key Griffin had given her. A hot shower sounded good. Food would be helpful. Sleep was probably essential. Everything she needed was in the apartment right above her head.
Except one.
33
Griffin got another chance to test his driving skills by racing to the Skagit Valley Regional Hospital, a good ninety minutes away in good conditions. The conditions right now were terrible, but he still managed to make it in just over an hour.
Marley was in the hospital, and Coach Nelson had put him there. Someone had been in the bathroom, and had recorded the whole thing on his iPhone. Jake had gotten the call from one of his volunteer fireman buddies, and passed the word to Griffin right away.
He dashed into the lobby of the emergency room, where he ran into an obstacle. Only immediate family allowed.
Sometimes even a tiny amount of celebrity went a long way. The charge nurse recognized him and let him in when he offered to visit her kid’s middle school.
Luckily, John Derrick was glad he’d shown up, and greeted him with a long hug. “I’m so sorry,” Griffin told him after the embrace ended. “So damn sorry.”
“Hey, stop that. You didn’t do this.” John looked as if he’d aged twenty years since he’d last seen him. “I know you talked to Marley. You tried. He told me you warned him.”
“How is Marley?”
“Gonna be okay. Gonna be okay. Broken rib, some cuts and bruises, but it could have been worse. Coach saw the kid with the phone and went after him instead. Good thing the old guy ate a few too many crullers over the past decade. The kid ran right to the principal and showed him the video. The rest of the team—”
He broke off, tears welling up again. Griffin braced himself for something terrible—the team left him there, they didn’t help him, they tried to cover it up again.
“The rest of the team formed a barricade around Marley so the coach couldn’t get at him. They called 911. They stopped the bleeding from his busted lip. Got the blood off him so the paramedics could see what they were doing. They saved him, those kids. Saved my Marley.”
A hard lump formed in Griffin’s throat. The real way to save Marley would have been to report Coach Nelson back in high school. But at least he was alive. “I’m glad to hear that. They’re good kids.”
“Yeah, but they needed someone to break the ice. Someone they looked up to. They needed you. You did a good thing in that interview, Griffin.”
He shook his head, then kept on shaking it as John continued. “Deny it all you want, and I know you wish you did more. It’s hard going up against someone like that coach who knows how to mind-fuck. Think they would have believed you then? A respected coach like him? Not a chance.”
A nurse came out of Marley’s room, and Griffin grabbed onto the opportunity to change the subject. “Anyway, this isn’t about me, John. Can I see Marley? Think it’s a good idea?”
“Yeah, come on.”
With permission granted, Griffin stepped into the boy’s hospital room, while John went for more coffee. The sight of Marley’s bruised young face made him want to scream—until the kid broke into a big grin. “Rogue. You came to see me.”
That grin told Griffin all he needed to know. Marley wanted to be treated like a full-fledged adult, not a kid in a hospital bed. “You look like hell, dude.”
“You should see the other guy. Actually, he’s probably going to jail, so you can’t.”
They both laughed, a dose of dark humor lightening the room. “It’s where he belongs.”
“I should have listened you.” Marley grimaced in disgust. “I was afraid. Didn’t want to lose my spot.”
“I get it. Believe me.”
“Wanna know something weird? He took my jersey. The one with the same number as you. How effed up is that?”
His jersey. Jesus. Was that the “evidence?” Put some of Serena’s blood on a football jersey with his number? “That’s effed up for sure. I’m sorry you went through this, Marley. You deserve better. The whole team does.”
Marley grabbed his wrist. “Does that mean you’re gonna come coach us?”
“What? Hell no, I’m no coach. Not my thing. I don’t like working in a system.”
“So don’t. Dump the system. Do your own thing. I mean, even though I didn’t listen to you, I appreciate that you took the time. You’re a pro athlete, you didn’t have to bother.”
“It wasn’t a bother, Marley. I care what happens to you.”
“See? There you go.”
Marley lay back, looking satisfied that he’d made his point. Griffin wasn’t exactly sure what that point was, but now the wheels were turning.
His own thing…working with teenagers…offering guidance…offering an ear…something he’d craved at that time of his life…
Then the vision expanded.
Training camps at the lodge. All that fresh air, the higher elevation to build lung capacity, Renata’s good healthy food. Team-building exercises, a chance for players to bond outside of school.
Sports had saved him during early years. Why not turn around and give that back to others?
Marley yawned, and Griffin squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll leave you be now.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“You call me if you need anything, okay?”
Marley opened one eye. “After school job for Rogue Coaching?”
“You’ll be first on the list.”
Out in the lobby, he took a moment to collect himself. What next? Police station, to make sure the coach wasn’t weaseling out of anything? Back to the lodge? He was still all wound up and he didn’t want to go home. Even though the lodge was huge and his entire family was there, it was going to feel bitterly empty without Serena.
Damn, Serena had cut him to the core with that little comment about being in the wrong timeline. He knew it wasn’t directed at him, but still—what chance did they have if she felt she ought to be back in her old life? Her old life didn’t have room for him. He was never going to live in a city like that. What would he do there? Even though he didn’t know exactly what his future held, he knew that it had something to do with the lodge, and working with kids, using his skills and knowledge.
She’d said she loved him, but he knew Serena. Her art was so important to her, and she would fight against anything that threatened it.
Including him. And her feelings for him.
He wouldn’t want to interfere with her art. She was incredible. That portrait of Max had blown him away. Her ability to see inside someone and bring them so compassionately to life on a canvas was awe-inspiring.
He whooshed out a long breath and headed out the revolving door. As the cold outdoor air blasted him in the face, he noticed a flash of red hair. He craned his neck to see who it was.
Serena?
He turned and followed the red haired woman inside, only to see that it wasn’t Serena, but a nurse coming on duty. Embarrassed, he did a complete circuit of the revolving door, this time landing on the pavement outside.
Forget about Serena. She was clearly done with this Rocky Peak adventure of hers. Done with Griffin, done with the Rockwells. All she wanted was to get her life back the way she wanted it.
He cursed under his breath as he made his way across the snowy parking lot to his car.
What a fool he was to think that love—that their connection—would be enough
to make her leave her glamorous life as a San Francisco artist. Not that he wanted her to leave it—but maybe she could relocate. Just a tiny bit, just a little ways up the coast, a few thousand feet higher elevation, a little colder average temperature…
Oh who was he kidding? Rocky Peak might as well be a different planet.
He squinted as he approached his car. A taxi cab was pulling up next to it. A Chevy Malibu with a mountain peak painted on the side.
Marie rolled down the window and waved at him. “Hey Griff. It’s not every day I pick up a fare who asks to be taken to your car. Don’t worry, I checked her out to make sure I wasn’t bringing one of your groupies right to your doorstep.”
An arm reached forward to hand over a wad of cash.
A thrill swept through him. He recognized that arm, and that red wool coat.
Serena was here.
She stepped out of the cab and nearly skidded on the snowy pavement. He lunged forward to catch her. Her quick gasp of breath sent a cloud of fog into the icy air.
“Clearly, I need better boots if I’m going to live here much longer,” she griped. “Thanks for the ride, Marie!”
“Thank you! I can take the rest of the week off with this jackpot. Woohoo!” Still whooping, she rolled up the window and waved goodbye.
And then they were alone in the parking lot. A tall streetlamp sent a shaft of light through the icy particles of mist. It was almost like being inside a snow globe.
Serena looked so beautiful to him, so kissable, so irresistible, so uniquely and thoroughly Serena, that all he could do was smile at her helplessly and know, deep in his bones, that his heart belonged to her forever. Come what may.
“You took a cab here from Rocky Peak,” he said, stating the obvious.
“Yes, well, you took off without me and the cops took my wheels. It was either that or ski, and I haven’t had enough lessons from Isabelle yet.” Her eyes sparkled with warmth. “I’ll have to get on that, though I may need a couple days to recover first.”
“You’re still in pain?” He ran his hands gently down her arms, feeling for broken bones, though he knew she didn’t have any.
“I am. I had to contemplate the possibility of life without you. It hurt. I didn’t like it at all.”
He froze, holding his breath. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? Or was his longing for her clouding his understanding? “I don’t want to be any part of keeping you in a wrong timeline.”
“You aren’t. You couldn’t be. I didn’t mean that.” Her gaze clung to his, those soulful brown eyes begging him to understand. “I was shaken up by being carjacked and feeling so helpless.”
“He had to knock you out to make sure you didn’t escape. He knew you weren’t helpless.”
“Good point.” She screwed up her face, as if rethinking that. “No, it’s not a good point. Because I still felt helpless, and like I’d lost control of my life all over again and I just…freaked out.”
“All over again?”
“When my dad disappeared. When the trolls chased me out of town. But you know what? I wound up here and that’s the best miracle that ever happened to me. Because I met you. And I’m not going to screw that up.”
She was saying what he thought. It was a miracle.
“But what about your painting? Your career. San Francisco. All those things you mentioned before.” Why was he arguing? He wanted her to want to be with him. But he also wanted it to be the right thing for her.
“Well, I had a long cab ride to think this through. Painting—yes, I still want to paint. I need to paint. Career—yes. That’s still extremely important to me. San Francisco—sorry, City by the Bay, but I found a new love. It’s a true gem hidden away in the mountains, the charming type that sneaks up on you and makes you fall in love before you realize what’s happening.”
Finally he relaxed. He didn’t have to worry. She really did want to stay—on her own, not only because he wanted her to. “Rocky Peak has that effect, I’ve been told.”
She leaned forward, propping her front against him and tucking her hands in his pockets. “Not as much as its biggest celebrity. That Griffin Rockwell, just try walking away from him. It can’t be done. Someone had to carjack me to get me away from him.” Her sassy smile made the light glitter in her tiny diamond. “And even after getting carjacked, and shuddering at the thought of getting into another car, I willingly took a cab to come after you. That ought to prove a thing or two.”
“That you’re brave and no longer afraid of winter driving?”
“That I love you and that I’m not entirely stupid. Just a little hard-headed on occasion.” She made a little face of apology. “But you probably knew all that already.”
He threw his head back and laughed, his heart going light as a balloon. “I don’t think there’s a safe answer to that, so all I can say is, bring it on. If you think I can’t handle hard-headedness, I can introduce you to a few dozen motocross racers who will set you straight.”
“Sorry, there’s only room for one motocross racer in my life. I love him madly and pray he’ll forgive me.”
He brought his hands down to tenderly cup her face. “There’s nothing to forgive, sweetheart. We’re good. So good. I love you and just setting my eyes on you makes me happy. Whatever happens from here, we’ll figure it out. We’ll make it work for both of us. I’ll build you a studio. Or I’ll build you an airstrip so you can fly to your gallery openings or wherever you need to be.”
Laughing, she shook her head “None of that is necessary. I can paint anywhere, as long as I can ship the contents of my studio up here. When I need to get to the gallery, there’s this thing called a car, and this person named Griffin Rockwell who’s incredibly good at driving them, and who looks fantastic in a tux and who I love with every little crevice of my formerly jaded heart.”
He discovered that one more second of not kissing her was intolerable, and he bent his head to claim those full, teasing, sassy lips. Their tongues collided in a fountain of sparks, tingles of pleasure that spangled the night. He and Serena came together like the crash of a wave against a cliff. Force and counterforce, perfectly balanced, destiny in the making. It had always been that way with them. Strength joining with strength, vulnerability calling to the same.
He felt her shiver, and remembered that it was cold outside. He unzipped his coat and tucked her inside, against his chest, then tightened his grip as he slanted his mouth across hers one more time.
She moaned softly into his mouth, and it was the sexiest, sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
It blew his mind that he’d get to do this indefinitely. This mouth, with its soft lips and sassy smile, wasn’t about to disappear from his life. Serena and all her curves—and edges—were going to stay where he wanted, right beside him.
“By the way,” he finally murmured when they reluctantly drew apart, and he caught her shiver. “Kinda curious how much a taxi from Rocky Peak to Skagit Valley costs.”
“Oh, well, what can I say?” She shrugged lightly. “Taxi fare from Rocky Peak, an embarrassingly high amount. Chance to tell your man that you love him? Priceless.”
34
Serena always loved watching Griffin, no matter what he was doing. But watching him hold his own against a sports anchor on TV was especially inspiring. She’d driven with him to Los Angeles for this interview, and was currently standing backstage offering her silent support.
Afterwards, they had a suite booked in a very nice hotel and lots of plans for how to spend the time before they drove back to Rocky Peak.
“I’m coming forward about this because so many people, kids, teens, all ages really, struggle with a disability. If you’re used to being able-bodied, and then something happens and you can no longer do the things you used to do, it’s confusing, upsetting, terrifying. But the one thing I hope I can change is that it doesn’t need to be embarrassing. That’s why I’m speaking out.”
“But you retired. What kind of example does t
hat set?” Pete the Anchor didn’t seem to know what to make of Griffin’s revelation.
“Look, I’m thirty. Motocross is for young guys. I’m not saying I’m an example. I’m saying I’m a human being, and I know how it feels to suddenly face a big change in your life. I’m saying that a disability doesn’t make you less of a person. It could happen to any of us, even if you were born able-bodied and physically gifted, like me. So I guess I’m saying, let’s stop looking only at the fastest, the strongest, the hardest. Let’s lift up the kids who have challenges we know nothing about.”
Serena clapped her hands and rested her chin on them, tears springing to her eyes. Griffin was so eloquent when he spoke from the heart like that.
“Okay, so how are you going to do that?” Pete asked.
“Good question. Thank you for asking.”
She’d trained him on that answer. Her brief time in the media spotlight had taught her a few things.
“I’m establishing the “Reach Your Peak” project at my family’s lodge in the Cascades. We’ll offer support and training to kids with disabilities who want to pursue sports. We’ll hold specialized training camps, friendly competitions, financial assistance, really the sky’s the limit.”
“So this is Rocky Peak Lodge, with the skis?”
A shot from his last interview popped up, with a rack of old wooden skis in the background.
“Yup. The lodge—meaning my father—has donated a piece of the property to Reach Your Peak. We’ll operate out of the lodge until we can get our own facilities built. Right now we’re still getting going and looking for funding.”
Which was why Griffin and Serena were in LA, doing interviews and meeting with sponsors. After that, they planned to drive up the coast to San Francisco and pack up the entire contents of Serena’s apartment and studio.
The interview ended, and Griffin strolled off the set to the backstage where Serena waited. He walked right into her open arms. “That was perfect,” she murmured. “You’re so sexy when you bare your soul on TV like that.”
The Rogue Page 23