Читать книгу One Wish - Robyn Carr, Robyn Carr - Страница 8

Three

“The outstanding question is why have you appointed yourself my fun coach?” Grace asked once they were in Troy’s Jeep and driving.

“It’s not complicated at all,” he said. “I need someone to play with. I work a lot. I give a lot to the students. I have a second job at least ten days a month. Between school vacations and weekends, I manage some time off and Cooper is great about letting me put together days off from his place so I have time to pursue my interests. When I’m not working I look for fun things to do. Mostly skiing, diving or river trips, but since there’s decent skiing and diving right here, I only take about one big trip every year. There are lots of places I need to see—Costa Rica, Barcelona, Paris, Montreal, China, to name just a few. My real passion is kayaking or rafting and, honey, there are some rivers in the tristate area that can keep me busy through spring and summer. Who knows? Maybe you’ll try it sometime, maybe not. But this is a great place, Grace—there’s a ton of stuff to do and see and experience.”

“You need someone to play with,” she repeated as if that was the only thing she got out of all that. But it wasn’t what she was thinking. I’ve been all over the world. I could almost work as a guide. Except, Grace had never toured the countries she’d visited, never really taken in the sights. She’d been all over the world to compete. Usually with an entourage. And now, Troy needed someone to play with?

Her heart beat a little faster.

“Well, that’s not the whole story,” Troy continued. “I’m not shy about doing things on my own. I meet people all the time, great people who have like interests. But, Grace, you’re kind of fun. Let’s see if there’s anything you like better than working all the damn time.”

“You have a point,” she agreed. “The problem is I have my own business. And every day off—”

“I know, every day off is a day without pay.”

“You pay attention,” she said.

“It’s admirable, having your own business. But I think your business is a ball and chain. It’s all about working out a schedule you can live with, Grace. People don’t need flowers twenty-four/seven. And I bet you’ll be a happier business owner if you get out a little more.”

Of course he had no idea how much getting out she indulged in because she didn’t talk about it much—her yoga, working out, secret skating. “So that’s why you think you can kidnap me like this?”

“Really, Grace? Kidnap?”

“Hijack.”

“Look at that coast,” he said as he drove north. “Damn, not a day to go fishing, I don’t think. Have you seen the coast up this far?”

“Of course,” she lied. In fact, she’d driven down the coast from Portland one summer, barely took in the landscape, made a bid to buy the shop and went right back to Mamie and Ross, where she spent a week lost in a panic attack, terrified of being completely on her own. She was so nervous she nearly called her mother! In the end, she toughed it out and when her offer was accepted by Iris, she drove straight to Thunder Point, never really taking in the coastal beauty.

They passed through the outskirts of North Bend and then Coos Bay. It appeared very little was open for business, it being a holiday. There were a few bars and a Chinese restaurant that seemed to have customers. A souvenir shop on the highway had an Open light shining in the door. Gas stations were operational and a firehouse had the big rig doors spread wide. But the traffic was sparse. Everyone was probably home taking in the football games and recovering from New Year’s Eve.

“Have you ever seen it on a day like today?” he asked as they drove toward the ocean. He pulled into a small lookout that faced the water. The clouds were dark and the wind was blowing wicked and wet. There were patches of rain over the ocean and the waves were huge. The air was frigid and the fun coach was grinning. “Yeah, this is gonna be great,” he said.

“What in God’s name have I let you get me into?” she asked. He laughed as if he found that extremely amusing.

He put a knit stocking cap on his head and jumped out of the Jeep. When she joined him, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along a path that she knew led to the edge of the lookout because she could hear the deafening sound of crashing waves. When the path crested she stepped back with sudden anxiety. The waves looked like mountains as they crashed against the rocks.

“God,” she said, but only God could have heard her above that noise.

“Come on,” he said. “They’re about a hundred feet in some places, some of the biggest waves in the world. We can get closer. It’s safe.”

She shook her head. “I can see just fine!”

“What?”

She put her hands around her mouth and shouted in his ear. “I can see fine!”

He laughed. He put his mouth close to her ear. “It’s safe. Look, there’s a stone wall. Not like we’ll slide off. I can see from here that it’s dry. I want to get a couple of pictures with my phone.”

It was a very low stone wall, about knee-high. She shook her head. A lot.

“Is it scary, Grace?” he asked, shouting.

She nodded.

“I’ll go check,” he yelled. He let go of her hand and walked along the path closer to the edge. Waves rose above the level of the ground she stood on, but they crashed to the surf below. The path began to wind downward, which gave her no peace of mind and she hung back. She wasn’t sure of herself on high cliffs over rocky shores facing off with hundred-foot waves. Troy continued on, of course.

The waves were magnificent, she had to admit. The power was stunning, no other word.

Troy leaned against the wall, his back to the ocean, and waved at her. She waved back. He jumped over the wall and walked a bit farther toward the edge and she felt her stomach clench. There was a sign, for God’s sake! Don’t Go Past This Point! But over the wall he went. He turned toward her and shouted something that she didn’t have a prayer of hearing so she just shook her head. He spread his arms wide and high, as if in victory.

Probably the award-winning wave of the day came up behind him and her eyes grew as round as plates. Her mouth hung open and she watched in awe as the crest of the enormous wave came down on Troy. She screamed in terror, afraid he’d been washed out to sea. As it receded, there he stood, looking for all the world like a drowned rat. With gunk hanging from one shoulder.

Grace grabbed her heart in relief. He just stood there. Dripping. He plucked the gunk off his shoulder and began to climb back over the wall.

After a couple of relieved breaths, once she was sure the fun coach was all right, Grace hugged herself and sank to her knees in hysterical laughter. She could barely see him trudging toward her because her eyes were watering with tears. His jacket and pants were heavy from water, making his movements slow. She wanted to spring into action and tell him she was taking charge, except she couldn’t talk. Instead, she rose slowly to her feet and by the time he reached her, she was upright again. She took his hand and pulled him back up the path toward the Jeep.

“Oh, my God,” she rasped weakly, still hysterical with laughter. “Oh, Troy!”

“It’s thirty-eight degrees,” he said, shivering. “Get a grip! Stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry,” she said, but she couldn’t stop. “I had no idea you could be such a funny fun coach! Get in—I’m driving.”

“It’s m-m-my new Jeep!”

“You’re shaking. I’ll drive, crank up the heater and you can start peeling off wet clothes. I don’t suppose you have a blanket in the car?”

“N-n-no. That was a f-f-freak wave!”

“There was a sign!” she said. “Did you want to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel, too?”

“Funny. You’re so f-funny.”

“Oh, God, I wish I’d gotten a picture. Here,” she said, opening the passenger door. “In you g-g-go!” she said, mocking him. Then she doubled over in laughter again.

By the time she got into the driver’s seat, he had already started the engine. “Take off that jacket and throw it in the back. And that stocking cap,” she said, yanking it off his head and pitching it over her shoulder. It took him a minute to peel off the jacket and once he had, she started touching his shirt. “Not that bad, really, but still wet. That was probably forty gallons of water.” Then she touched his pants, patting his thighs and knees. “Oh-oh. These are soaked. Hang in there, the heater will get going pretty quick.” She put on her seat belt and made a big U-turn, taking off down the road. Hunching up against the steering wheel, she was still laughing. “That was seriously the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” she said.

“Shut up, Grace.”

That only made her laugh harder. “Relax, I’m going to fix this for you. I hope.”

“How?”

“You’ll see. Don’t be so crabby—I’m going to get you dry.”

Troy aimed all the vents at himself and turned up the fan. “Lucky I didn’t get washed off the edge,” he muttered, rubbing his hands together.

“I admit, that wouldn’t have been as funny,” she said.

“You have a very big laugh for a little girl.”

“I know.”

A few minutes later, she parked in front of the souvenir shop. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“You’ll see.” She grabbed her purse and jumped out, leaving the car running for him. She jogged inside and less than five minutes later came running back to the car with a roll of paper towels in one hand and a shopping bag in the other. “These were donated by the cashier,” she said, handing him the paper towels. “And these are for you!” Grinning widely, she pulled a sweatshirt out of the bag—it read My Heart Is in Coos Bay. “I got the largest one. And here are some shorts.” She pulled out a pair of women’s shorts with eyelet lace sewn around the legs. “They’re actually from a pajama set, but they’re XL. They didn’t have any men’s pants, just tops. This was all they had, but they’re dry.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“It’s okay, you have nice narrow hips. If this place hadn’t had clothes, I was going to take you to that fire station, but this is better. And you don’t ever have to wear them again, just till we get you home.” She craned her neck, looking around. They were alone in the parking lot. “Take off your shirt and dry your head and body...”

“In the car?”

“You’re a guy! Guys strip on the street if they have to! Guys pee off boats!”

He ripped off his shirt and used paper towels to dry his hair, neck and his damp chest. He put on the sweatshirt. “Good. That’s good.”

“Pants. Come on.”

“They’re not that wet...”

“You’re soaked. I won’t look,” she said, turning away.

“I’m okay, but thanks for the thought.”

“Your pants are wet and it’s cold. You already made the seat wet—get your pants off and sit on a bunch of paper towels. Even if we get it warm in here, you can’t be sitting in cold, wet pants.”

“It’s New Year’s Day and nothing is open. How’d you know about this place?”

“We passed it on the way up. I asked myself what would be open on a holiday—the souvenir shop was all I could think of.” She smiled. “I almost grabbed you a couple of refrigerator magnets while I was in there.” She touched his shoulder. “Put on the nice, dry shorts, Troy. I’ll close my eyes. Besides, cold and wet as you are, there probably isn’t that much to see.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Did it ever occur to you that’s why I’m not undressing in front of you?”

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll go back inside the store. There’s no one in the parking lot. Get it done.”

And with that, she was out of the car. She chatted it up with the cashier for a minute, explaining Troy’s shyness. She glanced at her watch, supposing enough time had passed. When she walked back outside, what she saw caused her to stop dead in her tracks.

A police car was parked next to the Jeep and an officer had Troy out of the car, standing in his wet stocking feet wearing his ladies’ shorts, talking and shivering. Oh, no! she thought. He must have been changing when the officer pulled up. Of course he had to take off his shoes to get out of his pants. She could imagine what the officer thought! She took two steps toward them to help, to be a witness to Troy’s explanation.

But she started to laugh again and was absolutely no help at all.

* * *

Troy insisted on taking over the driving. He was no longer chattering and shaking. He was, however, a little out of sorts. And he cast glances at Grace, who was looking out the window attempting not to laugh, the attempt causing her to snort now and then.

She turned toward him, her hand suspiciously covering her mouth. “So, how did the police become involved?”

“He snuck up on me as I was changing pants. I was at a disadvantage. My wet jeans were tossed over the seat and these pretty little shorts you so kindly bought me were around my ankles and I was drying off when I looked up and he was staring in the window. He told me to get out of the car. I had barely stopped explaining the situation when you came out of the store and laughed until you almost peed yourself. I’m writing a letter to the city council. I think it’s unprofessional for a police officer to laugh until he farts.”

Grace quickly looked out the window. She snorted again. She got the hiccups.

“Glad I could be so entertaining,” he grumbled.

“Are you going to drop me off at the flower shop?” she asked.

“Oh-ho, no way, Gracie. I might’ve screwed up my first attempt at showing you how to have fun but I’m not giving up. And I’m not letting you do accounting on a holiday! I’ll just clean up and we’ll go at it again.”

“Really, Troy, I think your work here is done. I don’t think I’ve ever had more fun in my life.” She snickered a little and bit her lip. “Besides, I think you might be mad at me for laughing. And that doesn’t sound like fun.”

“I’m not mad,” he snapped. “I’m wet!” He took a breath and said, “I’ll be more fun when I’m dry and not wearing girl pants.”

“I think you’re fun right now,” she said. Then she grinned at him.

He parked behind his apartment complex and led her up to the second floor, leaving all his wet clothing outside the door. He unlocked his dead bolt. Once inside, she looked around. “Wow. Nice.”

He smiled to himself. It was a crappy old complex on the outside, but Troy had done a little work on the inside. He’d painted, for one thing, and bought a nice, deep and fluffy area rug to put over the old and worn carpeting in the living room. He had some nice shelving and a fifty-seven-inch flat screen. He’d made repairs and improvements here and there, like taking down the shower curtain and installing a glass shower door, sanding and refinishing the bathroom cabinets, scrubbing the place like he owned it. His parents’ old leather sectional fit right in. The only things he had that were new were the butcher-block table and high chairs. His bedroom furniture was only a few years old and he had been collecting a few framed LeRoy Neiman prints for the walls. The frames were more valuable than the prints, but he liked Neiman’s sports art.

“Make yourself at home. Help yourself to anything—eat, drink, whatever. There’s the remote. I have to get a shower. I’ll be quick.”

He left her standing in the small living room. Once he was under the hot water, sudsing the smell of salt and seaweed from his hair and body, he smiled to himself. Grace was a free spirit. A little wild and uncontrolled with a deep-down joy and playfulness that turned him on. He might’ve acted a little insulted at her lusty humor directed at him but, to be honest, he wouldn’t have it any other way. That was no prissy little laugh the girl had: she laughed down to her toes. There was passion in her.

He revisited his checklist in his mind and moved She must be a happy person to number one in his requirements. If that meant laughing at his foibles, he could live with that. Grace didn’t come across as whiny, self-pitying, cloying or desperate. If he demanded a woman be a good sport, then he had to be, too. And who forced him to jump that wall? He’d been showing off. He loved showing off.

She might just prove to be a good little playmate.

When he got back to the living room to Grace, she was curled up in the corner of the sectional, holding a cup of something hot with both hands. Her boots were sitting at attention beside the couch and she was wearing bright pink socks. One of the many New Year’s Day bowl games was on television. He stood looking down at her, smiling, with his hands on his hips.

“Do you feel better?” she asked a little sheepishly.

“I’m tempted to hold you down and give you something to really laugh about. You ticklish, Gracie?”

She pulled back a little. “Don’t even think about it,” she said, holding up the cup. “I’m armed.”

“What is that?”

“Hot chocolate. You had some envelopes of mix in the drawer by the refrigerator.”

He wrinkled his brow. “That could be very old.”

“I don’t think dry powders spoil. Want to taste it?”

“Thanks,” he said, reaching for the cup. She handed it to him and he put it behind him on the coffee table. Then he tackled her on the couch. While she shrieked and begged and laughed, he pinned her with his body and attempted to tickle her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she squealed.

“What are you sorry for, Grace?” he asked, a devilish gleam in his eyes, pinning her to the sofa.

“I’m sorry I laughed and bruised your delicate little male ego,” she said, smiling.

“Ooh,” he growled, giving her a good rib-tickle.

“Ack! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Stop it, stop it!”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Okay, I lost it, I was out of control, I laughed at you when you were vulnerable and I’m sorry. No tickling!”

“A cop was threatening to arrest me for indecent exposure!” Troy said. “He thought I was a parking lot predator!”

A smile beamed across her face. “That was the best,” she said. “I’m sorry, but that was the best part. Although, that wave...I will never see anything like that again in my lifetime! You are an excellent fun coach.”

“It wasn’t my intention that you have fun at my expense,” he said. But he was smiling when he said it. “I was going to show you how to have a good time.”

“And so you did,” she said, smiling into his eyes. “Think of how successful that might’ve been if you could read. I mean, there was a sign. Can I make you some stale hot chocolate?”

“I don’t think so. I think my mother sent me that in one of her many boring care packages. What should we do today? Want to go out? Any ideas?”

She shook her head.

“Let’s stay in,” he said. “Let’s make some game food. I have stuff in the freezer. I have tri-tip and buns for tri-tip sliders. Or we can go with wings or pizza. I have beer but no wine.”

“I have wine in the flower cooler,” she said. “I just feel like such a slouch, eating so much trash and bar food.”

“I’ll slice some onion and pickles for your sliders. I have some deli potato salad but I don’t know...”

“Dangerous?” she asked.

“By this date, very likely. I don’t expect you to be that much of a good sport.”

“Oh, so that’s your game? You want a good sport?”

He gave her a quick kiss. “I want to enjoy myself with someone who’s enjoying herself. I have a feeling, a dark feeling, you don’t need my help with that.”

“Okay. I’ll do one more day of carbs and fats. But the next time we eat together there will be green things.”

“I love green things,” he lied.

He told her to take the Jeep to her place to retrieve her wine and she brought back a Scrabble game. She also threw in a DVD of one of her favorite non-chick flicks, Red. He looked at it and said, “I love Red!”

“Just in case your brain goes numb from football,” she said. “But I can do football as long as you can.”

They had a rousing game of Scrabble, which Troy won by a stretch. They curled up on the couch together to watch Red. Every once in a while Troy invaded her space for a make-out session. In midafternoon they worked together in the kitchen to build some sliders, which they ate on big plates in front of the TV. Troy quizzed her about football teams and stats. “You’re a big football fan,” he said.

“I’m a small football fan,” she corrected. “Or maybe medium. I enjoy the game but I don’t live for it like some people do. And I have a good memory for football facts.”

“And your favorite sport?” he asked.

“That’s a tough question. I think I like watching everything competitive.”

“I think I’ll invite you to my Super Bowl party,” he said while they rinsed the dishes.

“You’re having a Super Bowl party?”

“Uh-huh,” he said, directing her back to the couch, pulling her down and getting her back in his arms. He loved that there was no hesitation from her. His arms went around her waist, hers went around his neck, lips on lips and bodies pressed together. It being the height of winter, the sun was lowering and the only light was that from the kitchen and the TV.

“Who’s coming to your party?” she asked, lips pressed against his neck.

“I’m thinking of a very small party. It could be a private party.” He caressed her back, her sides, ran a hand over her butt and down her thigh. “Maybe just us.”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she said.

He backed off a little. “Ever?”

“I’m not ready,” she told him. “I want to know you better.”

“That’s very reasonable,” he said, kissing her again. “But really, Gracie, you taste so good...”

“That’s sweet. I’m still not ready.”

“Are you going to be unready for a real long time? Because, honey, you are a turn-on. And I risked my life for you on the cliffs of Coos Bay today. Just to make you happy.”

She chuckled against his lips. “You are such a giving man. I’ll be sure to let you know when I’m ready.”

“Just out of curiosity, Grace, are you waiting for a sign?”

She nodded. “I am. Plus, I’d like to be sure you’re all done pining over Iris. That just feels weird.”

Troy immediately put a little space between them. He grew serious. “Iris is married, Grace.”

“I know this. I was there.”

“Listen, here’s how it is. I’m crazy about Iris. She’s an awesome person and great counselor for the kids. I consider her a good friend. It’s true, for a long time I thought if she gave it a chance we might be more than friends, but we weren’t on the same page. All right? We were never on the same page and even though she told me over and over, I thought she might reconsider. She didn’t.”

“I know all that, but you have to remember—Iris is my good friend, too. I don’t want the situation to be awkward.”

“I hope we’re all good friends for a long, long time,” he said. “When I kiss you, I’m not thinking about Iris. I’m not thinking about anyone but you.”

She frowned slightly. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t answer the question,” she said.

“Iris married the love of her life, her one true and forever love. Even if I did still carry a torch for her, I’d never admit it. Especially to you. But I don’t. She’s moved on and so have I. Do you believe me?”

She smiled a little bit. Her expression said she didn’t believe him at all, but how could she argue without calling him a liar. “Okay, I believe you,” she said. “But there are also things about me... I want you to get to know me a little better.”

“I’m ready whenever you are. But so far, you’re the mystery. You have some pretty vague answers to questions about your life, your family, your friends...”

“I know, Troy. Since I was raised an only child, isolated in some ways, I tend to be on the private side. If you’re just patient...”

He leaned toward her. He kissed her again and she melted into him.

“How do you like me so far?” he asked against her lips.

She smiled without breaking her hold on him. “You’re growing on me.”

“You can trust me. When you’re ready to tell me more, you can trust me. And you can ask me anything.”

“Okay. One important question before we go any further. Are you sure I’m not just a booty call?”