Читать книгу A Father For Her Child - Laurel Greer - Страница 15
ОглавлениеMeet me in the pool at one tomorrow.
Cadie cringed as yesterday’s instructions to Zach echoed in her head. What had she been thinking? She floated in the shallow end of the public aquatic center and watched him amble along the pool deck toward her, supported by his crutches. Shirtless. Showing off a perfect sprinkling of trimmed hair leading down abs that could grace a fitness magazine. Her skin tingled and not from the water kissing her limbs. Yeah, the pool had been a brilliant move. If only she could change history, go back to when she was three and not learn how to swim. Then she could throw herself in the deep end and be done with it. Drowning sounded way smarter than taking him on as a client.
Nice choice of words, Cadence.
Her mental sarcasm landed like a boulder in her stomach. For one, this was her choice, and a necessary one. She could truly help Zach and, in doing so, could boost Evolve’s reputation. And she needed to start doing all that without thinking of crappy death comparisons. Sorry, Sam.
Lacquering on a smile, she waved at Zach, who slid into the water and crossed the pool with long, muscled strokes. He stopped a yard or so away, close enough that she had to tilt her chin a little to keep her attention on his face. He was a good six inches taller than her own five-seven. The height difference held so many possibilities. If he were healthy he’d be able to pick her up and—
She pinched her thigh under the water. He’s your client. Your best friend. Do not screw that up. “Ready to work?”
He nodded curtly.
“We’ll start with walking back and forth across the shallow end and work up to a jog.” The pool wasn’t too crowded—a parent-and-tot class occupied the splash pool and a dozen-odd people were swimming laps in the deep end.
“Uh, sure.” Following his gaze was a challenge. It seemed to land on her tank swimsuit for a second and then everywhere but, darting from the waterslide to the diving platforms and settling somewhere on the wall behind her. “Walking. Okay.”
She raised a brow. “Quite the conversationalist today.”
A faint rosiness bloomed on his cheeks and he rumpled his already disheveled hair, dampening the strands with his wet hand. “I...”
Way to make your client feel self-conscious, idiot. “Zach. Deep breath. You’ve done this before.”
“Right.”
Ri-ight. She loved the way he drew out his vowels sometimes. His voice had become her touchpoint when she’d been in her darkest moments. Blaming herself and Sam and the universe.
Smiling encouragingly, she motioned for him to follow her. He complied. And as long as she kept her eyes fixed on the oversize lap clock on the wall, and her attention on counting their steps backward and forward, she could almost ignore the way the water swirled around his waist, drawing her gaze to the delicious V of muscle dipping below the ripples.
Good grief. Focus. And not on that.
She went to pinch her thigh and brought her elbow up, accidentally deflecting off his forearm.
“Ow.” He brought his other hand to his arm in an exaggerated gesture.
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry!” Heat flooded her face. Could she not do anything right these days?
“Cadence.” His thumb dragged along her jaw and she blinked long, trying to ignore the shimmering trail on her skin. “I wasn’t serious. You barely touched me.”
“I know,” she said, trying to throw a duh tone on the retort.
He moved his hand from her face to her shoulder. His pupils flared wide despite the bright pool lights and his mouth parted. Snapping it shut, he yanked his hand away.
“What’s the next exercise?” he blurted.
“L-lunges.” And thankfully his legs would be under the water while he did them, because the unyielding strength of Zach Cardenas’s thighs could make a nun renounce her vows. Neck heating, Cadie splashed her skin and silently begged the clock to tick faster. Why couldn’t she have stayed in her blissful, mothering fog, unaware of the perfect definition of his quads?
She worked him through a set of lunges and leg balances, filling the time with chatter about Ben’s attempts to climb the toddler-focused play structure Zach and her dad had built in the backyard a few weeks before Zach had taken his header down Hammond’s Chute. Her son was just figuring out walking, and many a face-plant awaited Ben in his immediate future. Hopefully Zach’s calming influence could moderate the daredevil tendencies her son had inherited from his father.
Before Ben’s birth, she’d been clueless about how much she could love another being. It consumed her, filled in all the cracks in her soul left after the earthquake that was Sam. His life, and his death. “Get this. I left Ben in his bedroom for all of a minute yesterday to answer my dad’s landline, and when I get back, he’s made his way to the bathroom and is holding on to the edge of the bathtub, crowing for ‘Baff!’ and trying to figure out how to climb in. He’s growing too fast.”
She tried to laugh but her heart cramped.
Zach’s lips curved in a forced smile. Good to know—she had him working to the point of not being able to comfortably talk. Either that or he didn’t like Ben growing up, either. Maybe both.
He finished up his leg balances and she rushed him into the next exercise. She held out two pool noodles. “Pink or orange?”
A hint of amusement warmed his eyes to a mossy green and he grabbed the candy-pink foam tube.
“Sure, leave me with the one that clashes with my bathing suit,” she teased, tucking the tube around her back and under her arms. Using the water as resistance, she took him through another thirty minutes of therapy. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice the series of half-moon indents on her leg from the number of times she’d dug her nails into her skin while he’d done push-ups against the pool wall. The effort it took not to stare at his chest made her pulse race.
Yeah, right. That effect is from the chest itself, not the effort.
After finishing a set of squats that made him flinch in a way she didn’t like, he glanced at the clock. “We done?”
“In the pool? Almost. Swim a few laps to cool down and then hit the showers. But I want you to meet me at Evolve. My office is still a disaster, but the table’s set up. And I want to work you through some physical manipulation.”
She kept a visual track on him as he pushed off from the bottom of the pool and headed for the other side, which was cordoned off as a lap lane. Did he depend on his left arm and right leg in the water as much as he did on land? She’d probably find some impressive knots of muscle in a few places. She knew how to loosen those.
The knots in her stomach were another story.
“Evolve in twenty?” she asked once they’d gotten out of the pool.
He grimaced and toweled off his hair.
His clear reticence sent the butterflies in her stomach even more atwitter than they’d been while trying not to stare at his pecs.
Client. Professionalism time. “Are you more sore than normal?”
“Nah.”
Ah, so he was in a constant state of pain, then. Stubborn man.
“Hey. Have a seat.” She pointed at the plastic deck chairs where they’d left their towels. He eased into one of them and she took the other. She made sure she had full eye contact with him before she continued. “We don’t have to do this today if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do this at all. I know I can help you. And successfully rehabilitating you will benefit Evolve. But if it doesn’t feel right to you for us to work together, you need to be honest about that. Our friendship is more important to me.”
He held her gaze, but his eyes were more guarded than usual. He’d definitely thrown up an emotional barrier of some sort. Sucking in a breath, he shook his head. With his hair still wet from the pool, the strands stuck together. One clump fell across his forehead. He pushed it back. “I should get my hair cut.”
Non sequitur much? And from her angle, the length flattered. Demanded to have fingers run through it. His nervousness, however, broadcast a clear “don’t touch” message.
“Seriously,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
Tipping his head back, he stared at the observation deck for a few seconds before reverting his attention to her. “I’m tired today. Can you give me something to do at home instead?”
His deferral hollowed her chest until emptiness tugged at her ribs. Tired? Or reluctant? Had he picked up on her attraction? Her stomach curdled. If she lost his friendship because she couldn’t get her freaking hormones under control, she’d never forgive herself. “I—I can do that to a point, but I want to work you through some range of motion exercises before I draw up a home program.”
He shrugged and stood. “I’m not going to screw up my recovery with one day of solo rehab.”
He’d been screwing up his recovery for months, but his mouth was too drawn to remind him of that. “You have a stability ball at home? And some two-pound weights? Draw the alphabet while holding those—I’m assuming you’ve done that before?” She paused until she got a brisk nod from him. “And tie a stretch band to one of the support posts on your back railing and do three sets of fifteen extensions per side.” She demonstrated the fly motion she wanted him to do.
“That’s wimpy stuff, Cadence.”
“Yeah, well, until I have a more complete assessment of where you are, I’m not giving you more. Your swimming today demonstrated an acceptable range of motion for your right arm versus your left. But you’re still walking with a heck of a limp.”
He made a face.
God, how awesome would it be to kiss off that—That nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. “And meet me here tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. In the afternoon, we’ll meet at the Evolve gym. Plan for a month of two-session days. As long as you’re serious that you don’t have a problem working with me.”
“This is fine. We’ll be fine. I’m excited to work with you.” Jamming his crutches under his arms and slinging his towel over his shoulders, he smiled at her.
The false tilt to his lips made the emptiness spread from her chest to her stomach. She watched him as he disappeared into the locker room, wishing to the bottom of her heart that he was telling the truth. And knowing he wasn’t.
His health demanded she persist, though. She couldn’t watch him suffer anymore. But in helping him heal, she had to make sure she didn’t irreparably harm their friendship. She wouldn’t have made it through the last year and a half without him. And the year and a half to come, and the one after that... She needed him to be her rock then, too.
* * *
After showering off the chlorine, Zach made his way back to his truck and hoisted himself in. Proof of some progress, at least. A few weeks back he’d been stuck trading vehicles with Cadie because he couldn’t get into his pickup. She’d done him that favor, even though she didn’t owe him anything. And he’d switch to her care if it would make a difference for her career.
Gripping the wheel, he filled the cab with a string of profanity. Filthy enough that he half expected his Colombian-born, Catholic father to reach across the thirteen-hundred kilometer distance separating them to cuff the backside of the head. Didn’t matter that Zach was a grown-ass man of thirty-two—his dad was the best of fathers but hadn’t lost his strict standards for his children.
And it wasn’t like blue language was going to extract Zach from the tangle he’d agreed to.
Backing his truck out of the parking spot, he took a centering breath. Suck it up. No complaining. He’d follow through with the rehab. And with keeping his feelings to himself.
As he wended his vehicle through the streets of Sutter Creek—an attractive mix of the ski-town architecture Zach had grown up with in Whistler, along with some western elements for flavor—he gripped the steering wheel and hardened his jaw. He’d promised Sam he’d watch over Cadie and the baby for as long as they needed.
And for your own sake. He winced as his conscience prodded him with the truth. Yeah, selfish motivations painted a lot of what he did for Cadence Grigg. Because even though he wasn’t ever going to be able to tell her he loved her, he could sure as hell show her without words. Without hands, too. Cadie would have to touch him for rehab purposes. But he’d still keep his hands off.
If he ventured beyond their usual hugs, actually took the opportunity to savor her smooth skin under his palms... His groin tightened and he groaned. Time for a new train of thought. Maybe he could sneak into the lodge office and throw some paperwork around. His doctor had limited his hours and activities at work, but he did what he could to stay in the loop. Not nearly enough. The entire summer season would be burned by the time he was ready to return in full capacity.
A few minutes later he crutched toward his office in the bowels of the Sutter Mountain base lodge. He scowled at the smiling marmots painted on the ski-school side of the hallway. He did not need that level of saccharine cheer this afternoon. Those stupid animals could shove their joy straight up their cartoon asses. Must be nice, being a wall decoration and not having to worry about physio that wasn’t progressing fast enough or promises to your dead friend.
Choking on the thought, he gulped and tried to swallow the pain. Yeah, his left leg was bugging him and his right side had seized up like an overzealous boa constrictor, but at least he was alive. He had no right to gripe, not when Sam wasn’t able to gripe at all. And even if both his doctor and Cadie didn’t think he’d be ready, he’d figure out a way to get up that mountain to finish Sam’s project.
He shoved the office door with a little too much force. It banged into the wall with a metallic crash as the attached venetian blind reverberated with the impact.
The two occupants of the room startled.
Tavish Fitzgerald, Cadie’s brother-in-law-to-be, raised his tawny head from where he sat at Zach’s desk and shot Zach a questioning look.
At the closer desk, Andrew Dawson, Cadie’s older brother and Zach’s boss, spun in his chair. His reading glasses failed to hide the purple smudges under his eyes. His dark brown hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in a day or two. The classic parent-of-a-newborn look. Zach had seen it on his own face a few times after helping Cadie in the months after Ben’s birth.
“One of these days you’re going to owe me a door, Cardenas,” Andrew griped.
“I’m good for it.” Zach hobbled into the room and leaned against the edge of the long wooden top of the retro entertainment center they’d converted into a food-prep station. Better than easing into a chair and showing off his lack of grace and the degree to which his leg was pissing him off. He took in Andrew’s empty cup and the fresh pot brewing in the coffeemaker. “I take it the kid hasn’t figured out that ‘sunup’ means awake and ‘sundown’ means asleep?”
Andrew slid his glasses off and scrubbed his face with both hands. “Nope. He likes to tell us all of his woes from about two to five in the morning.”
“Brutal.” Zach propped his crutches against a nearby shelf and then reached across the narrow space between the desk and the wall to grab Andrew’s mug. Filling it from the carafe, he stirred in a heaping spoonful of sugar. “Here. Caffeinate.”
“Thanks.” Andrew grabbed the drink, took a long swig then coughed. “Right. Hot.”
Tavish snorted. “Sleep deprivation have you forgetting the basics of temperature, genius?”
“In about seven months this’ll be you.” Andrew pointed a finger at Tavish. “Just wait.” He eyed Zach. “What’s got you so cheerful today?”
“I—Physio problems. Thought I’d come in to get some work done—distract myself—but I see my desk is taken.” Zach tilted his chin at the mess of photographs and draft promotional materials scattered across his desk. “I’ll grab my laptop and go work in the staff lounge.”
“No, you’ll go home and rest,” Andrew instructed. “Doctor’s orders. And mine.”
Zach scowled at Andrew, who was well practiced at flipping between buddy mode and boss mode. “How the hell is sitting and editing the policy-and-procedure manual not resting?”
“Anyone can do office work. Only you can get you better. And I need you sparky for opening day.”
“Oh, I’ll be on skis in plenty of time for a December opening.” And he’d be hiking along the avalanche site far before that, getting Sam’s film done.
“That’s not what my sister said,” Andrew threw back.
“Which one—the nosy one or the nosier one?”
Tavish snorted.
Andrew glared at his brother-in-law. “You wouldn’t be laughing if Lauren were here.”
“I’ll make it up to her.”
“Yeah, didn’t need to know that. But I meant Nosy Two, not Nosy One.”
“Cadence won’t be able to tell you my secrets anymore,” Zach grumbled. “Client confidentiality and all that.”
“Client?” Andrew asked.
Zach nodded.
“About time,” Andrew crowed. “Don’t know why it took you so long.”
And Andrew never would. What guy wanted to know that his sister was starring in a friend’s nightly fantasies? Not that Andrew had a leg to stand on there—he’d married Tavish’s sister, Mackenzie—but still. Time for the easy answer, even if it would make Zach sprout feathers and start clucking around the office. “She had to talk me into it. Needles aren’t my thing.”
“But skiing is,” Andrew said.
Zach lifted a shoulder.
Tavish ran a hand through his dark blond hair. “Lauren texted me. Told me I was supposed to help convince you for the sake of the new wellness center. Apparently they want you as a poster boy?”
“So goes the story.” Zach slumped and then straightened as he caught himself cradling his right elbow. Damn it. He really needed to stop favoring his injuries. His arm didn’t really hurt anymore. But his back sure did, from having thrown himself out of alignment by not taking it easy.
“I don’t buy it,” Andrew announced.
“Why?”
“As if the center’s going to be anything but successful. They already have a full slate of reputable wellness providers, and the promotions team has sold a ton of gym memberships and spa packages.” Andrew narrowed his eyes. “This is about Cadie somehow.”
Slapping the desk, Tavish got a “Eureka!” look on his face. “When she and Lauren weren’t talking to each other last month, it was all about Cadie’s independence. This is probably that, too.”
“You taking up psychology instead of photography, Fitzgerald?” Zach grabbed a mug and busied himself making his own beverage. He managed to do it while putting minimal weight on his left leg, avoiding the inevitable winces and tugs that came along with standing on his injured limb. Best not show Andrew how much Zach still needed his crutches.
“Um, if anyone’s going to know Dawson women, it’s Andrew and me.”
Zach kept silent. Yeah, Andrew and Tavish knew the Dawson women well. But so did Zach. And Cadie had been increasingly awkward with him since his accident. So if joining her client list could facilitate them getting back their once-easy equilibrium? Another reason to go along with her request. Even if it meant having to take cold showers every night.
“This project is Cadie’s baby,” Andrew pointed out. “She knows it’s going to succeed because the company name’s on it and people trust AlpinePeaks’s ventures. But she wants to be the one to make that happen. With the way she’s poured herself into it, I’m thinking she’s using it to prove herself.”
Tavish waved a hand at Andrew. “What he said.”
Zach’s heart panged and he needed to sit down. Not because of his aching thigh, for once. “That’s part of it.”
“What’s the other part?” Tavish asked.
“She thinks she owes me,” Zach said quietly.
Andrew’s dark brows rose. “So let her pay you back.”
“She doesn’t need to.”
“And when are you going to feel like you don’t need to owe her anymore?”
Zach blinked at Andrew’s pointed question. Was he that obvious? He didn’t make a habit of talking about the promises he’d made to Sam, but then, Andrew wasn’t stupid. “I don’t.”
“Why else would you move here, man?” Tavish asked.
Okay, so Tavish wasn’t stupid, either.
“I will cop to keeping an eye out for her. She was wrecked and pregnant and it seemed the prudent thing to do.”
“Big sacrifice,” Tavish mused.
He didn’t know the photographer as well as he knew Andrew—Tavish had been out of town up until recently—and the blasé observation made Zach blink.
“Sam was my best friend,” Zach explained.
Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “And Cadie is...”
“My best friend’s wife.” Oops. Zach hadn’t meant for that to come out so harshly. Time to backpedal, and quickly. Before either of his friends figured out how often he had dishonored Sam, picturing Cadie as his wife. Ben as his son.
And he didn’t have the will to force the fantasy back into the mental vault he’d built the moment he’d spotted Sam flirting with Cadie at that bar in Steamboat Springs.
He and Sam had both honed in on Cadie, who had been dancing with a friend that night, dark hair streaming around her bared shoulders—she’d been wearing a sleeveless top that was probably illegal a hundred years ago. An ill-timed visit to the john had meant Sam moved in on her before Zach had the chance. There hadn’t been a thing he could do about it then, and that was twofold now. He wasn’t going to throw another shovel of dirt on his dead friend’s grave by pursuing Sam’s widow.
“Pretty sure there’s a statute of limitations—”
Zach cut Tavish’s lighthearted statement off with a glare.
“—or not,” the guy finished.
“Yeah, not.” Andrew shot Tavish a disbelieving look.
Zach cringed. He’d come to the office to think about something other than Cadie, not to spill his guts to her brother and her sister’s fiancé. Unplugging his laptop and tucking it under his arm, he leaned on one of his crutches and moved toward the door in an awkward, hitching hobble. “Coffee klatch is over. I’m going to get some work done.”
But something told him that Cadie was going to be drifting throughout his brain, no matter what he attempted as a distraction.
