One to Love (One to Hold #4) (12 page)

“One step at a time.”

“Right. Now I gotta get back to work.” He exhaled lightly. “Take care of my friend Slayer.”

“Slayer’s nobody’s friend.” Bitterness tightened my chest. “But Slayde’s doing pretty good so far.”

“Sounds like it. I’m proud of you.”

That was all I needed to hear.

* * *

S
aturdays were a modified schedule at the gym, but my body didn’t see it as any special day. My eyes popped open at six thirty, and I was in my truck, driving to the gym for seven. Sure enough, a shiny Honda sat in the lot.

A shot of happiness hit me straight to the chest, but I tried to tamp it down. She wanted to learn to box, and I was the only person around here qualified to teach her. That’s all it was, nothing more.

Inside, she sat on the bench looking at her phone when I walked into the small room. Her blue eyes seemed to brighten a little when she saw me, or maybe I just wanted them to.

“I wasn’t sure if you were coming,” she said, lowering the device.

“Did you do what I said when you were practicing?” It had only been a day, but I didn’t want her to think I’d forgotten.

She ducked her head with a laugh. “I haven’t really had a chance to practice. But I could see if I remember today?”

“Whatever you feel like doing.” I shrugged.

She stood and I watched as she reached back to braid her long ponytail. Her slim torso lined as she did it, and I looked straight at my shoes. Damn, she was so sexy. I knew if I kept watching her movements she’d see it all over my face—and possibly somewhere lower.

“My eyes popped open at six just like every day.” She laughed as she worked, and I turned my hand over, examining my palm.

“You don’t have a boyfriend or something?”
Why the hell did I ask her that?
“I just mean, being home on a Friday night.”

“No,” she said, and I saw she’d lowered her arms in my peripheral vision. “There’s only one boy in my life.”

Those words burned in my midsection more than I cared to recognize. Still, I seemed to be bent on torturing myself. “Oh, yeah? Where is he?”

“Wilmington.” She pulled on the gel gloves, and by the look she was giving me, I could tell she wasn’t finished.

“What’s he doing there?”

“Living with his daddy.” Her smile grew a little wider, as if just talking about him made her happy. “It’s hard being apart, but he’s getting to do way more there than he ever would with me.”

“You’ve got a son.” Everything inside me took a huge shift to the side, derailing my stupid dreams. If she didn’t need to be around me, a little kid certainly didn’t.

Confusion lined her face. “What? You don’t like kids?”

“It’s not that.” Clearing my throat, I figured it was time for me to head back to the front. “You just practice what I showed you yesterday. The more you work on it, the better you’ll get.”

She didn’t understand, but I didn’t owe her an explanation. I’d finish my work as usual, and Sunday was my day off. I was back to one foot in front of the other, the best way to keep it.

––––––––

S
layde Bennett is the most impossible man on the planet. Not that I care, of course, but if I did, I’d probably want to hit him in the head with one of those mops he pushes around all day. How dare he turn tail and run at the mention of Lane? I suppose he doesn’t think he was a little boy once? I guess he just arrived here as an adult, fully formed?

And why was I getting all fired up about this again?

Shaking the crazy out of my head, I focused on my practice. He might be a jerk, but he did know boxing. I threw a punch, concentrating on keeping my elbows tight, my chin tucked into my shoulder.
What was the other thing he’d said?
If I weren’t so pissed at him, I might ask. As it was, I’d figure it out myself. A best defense was smart choices—I remembered that much. Today’s smart choice involved giving him a wide berth.

* * *

M
rs. Clarkson had rescheduled her training session from yesterday to today, and I was kind of glad. She always gave me something to think about, even if it occasionally depressed me. Last time, I’d had a mini-awakening of sorts followed by my girls’ night with Elaine and Melissa. Of course, it was all shot to hell on Tuesday.

Mariska would roll in around noon, and I knew she’d be demanding to know if anything happened. I’d avoided her texts yesterday, basking in the afterglow of a full, day-starting conversation with Slayde and not wanting to over-analyze it. Now I just felt stupid. What a waste of my time.

“Something’s different about you.” Mrs. Clarkson’s soft voice wobbled with laughter.

I didn’t even know where to begin. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“I like it very much.”

For a moment, I was lost. “You do?”

“I know you think I’m an old fuddy-duddy, but purple is my favorite color. And this deep violet is very attractive with your skin tone!”

“Oh!” My nose wrinkled. “I forgot! I did it last week right after we worked together. I was testing that theory about change doing a body good.”

I helped her get her form right as she curled the small dumbbells. “Did it?”

Twisting my lips, I thought about her question. “It sort of did. Then I had this setback. Then... I don’t know. I feel like I’m almost right back to where I started last week.”

Lowering the light weights, she patted me. “It is a bit of a wave-pool when you venture back into the water. Don’t be discouraged.”

Slayde entered the fitness room headed in the direction of the men’s lockers. On their own, my eyes flew to his, and when they met, my chest clenched and I looked away.

Mrs. Clarkson didn’t miss a bit of it. When I turned back to her, her eyes narrowed. “Interesting,” was all she said, and I almost died of embarrassment.

“Sorry. I-uh... that’s the new maintenance guy, Slayde.”

I led her over to the resistance ball to finish her session with balance moves, but when I turned to face her, a tiny grin was at the corner of her mouth.

My arms were straight out, palms up to meet hers. “Ready?”

She nodded, placing her cool hands in mine. “He’s very handsome.”

Squatting with her as she sat down, I tried hard not to think about it. I tried instead to focus on the way he turned tail and ran at the mention of my sweet little boy.

“He’s not my type.” I rose with her and prepared to take her down again.

Her laugh was high. “Oh, honey. A man like that is everybody’s type.”

Wavering between an eye roll and a growl, I shook my head. “Looks are one thing, but I’ve talked with him a few times.”

She pressed her lips together, but her eyes still danced. “Judging by the look you exchanged, it must’ve been quite a conversation.”

I thought about last week, and how we’d discussed her husband and surviving the pain of loss. She was someone I could trust. I thought about how to ask my question as scientifically as possible.

“In your experience,” I started, “do you think men usually like children?”

Her face lined as she considered it. “Children in general or their own?”

I hadn’t really thought about it that way. “Umm... in general?”

“I’m not sure I understand why you’re asking me this. What was your experience with your friend Patrick?”

Reflecting on how that played out, I wasn’t sure it was a fair comparison. “He sort of freaked out.” I remembered Patrick shooting his and my whiskeys the night I told him. “Of course, it had been months since I’d seen him. And he was pretty serious with another woman at the time.”

“Hmm.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “That was his reaction to his own child?”

Now who was the clever one? She’d figured out my question before I’d even asked it. “I guess I see your point. It depends on the man?”

“And the situation and his experience with fatherhood, his own father. So many factors come into play with men and children.” We were slowly walking toward the juice bar. “What is consistent is the way most all men melt the first time they hold their own baby in their arms. It’s a game-changer.”

Game changer... As usual, she’d changed my outlook as she walked out the door.

* * *

T
he rest of the day, my chat with Mrs. Clarkson was on my mind. Mariska had begged for details about Slayde, but I told her the truth. Nothing happened. Then I left and drove myself to the pier where Patrick and I had sat after we told my parents about Lane. It was a special place to me.

The sun was setting over the water, and the sky was turning shades of blue, pink, and orange. It was beautiful, and I needed to bring my canvass down here more often and paint. Just because I took the semester off college didn’t mean I’d given up on my art.

Standing, I dusted my black jeans and turned only to stop dead in my tracks. Slayde waited at the end of the pier. His expression was a mixture of surprise and curiosity, and I decided I wasn’t angry with him. I wanted to go to him.

“Are you following me?” I teased as I got closer to where he stood.

His chin dropped, and with a slight grin, he cut those stomach-clenching eyes up at me. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Taking a few steps closer, I stopped when I was right in front of him. “You can’t because I asked you first.”

Where my show of bravado was coming from, I had no idea. I was doing good to breathe normally this close to him. It was the first time I’d seen him outside the gym—when he wasn’t saving my life—and he was so relaxed and casual. Still guarded, but almost happy. And oh, so sexy.

Straightening, he pushed his fists into the pockets of his jeans. “I live right over there.” He nodded toward a run-down apartment complex. “It’s a shitty place, but this is my living room. Every night I walk on the beach.”

Winking one eye, I smiled. “Are you saying this time I interrupted
your
routine?”

“I guess you did.” He exhaled a laugh, and he was so handsome with the fading orange light brightening his face. All signs of the troubled guy I’d seen this morning were gone.

“Since I let you box with me, will you let me walk with you?” I’d kicked off my shoes, and we had already taken a few steps together in the soft sand.

He shrugged. “It’s a free country.”

Laughing, I crossed my arms over my chest. “That’s not a very encouraging answer.”

Small waves broke along the shoreline as we walked, occasionally covering our bare feet. It was like ice, and I squealed. Slayde laughed, and it was the greatest sound. I caught his arm and traded positions with him, and for a while we only walked, watching the water. It was thrilling, and at the same time so easy being with him.

“What brought you to Bayville of all places?” I asked, stealing a glance at his profile. He was stunning in the twilight with the light breeze blowing his dark hair across his forehead. “There are plenty of better options.”

He looked out at the sky and exhaled. “I was looking for a place that was simple. I wanted to be close to the water. I rolled the dice, I guess.” He looked at me then, his blue eyes forcing me to blink away. “Why are you here?”

“I grew up here. Left as fast as I could.” I took a deep breath. “Then when I got pregnant, it seemed like the thing to do. Come home, be near my parents, regroup.”

“But you stayed.”

Pressing my lips together, I nodded. “I guess I found more to stay for coming back than I thought I would.”

We walked in silence a few moments. He cleared his throat, his voice more serious now. “Are you doing okay? Since the other night, I mean? Any... problems?”

I pushed my hair away from my face. “None that I’ve noticed. I haven’t been in a similar situation, so I don’t know if I’m scarred or anything.”

I stopped short of telling him whenever he was with me, I felt incredibly safe. Our eyes met, and he held mine a moment.

“You’re kind of in a situation like that now, walking with me here on the beach... Are you afraid?”

Stopping, I put my hands on my hips. “Are you saying you’re going to try something?”

His eyes went wide. “I would never hurt you!”

“I was only teasing,” I laughed, touching his arm as we resumed walking, feeling bolder somehow. “But I guess you have a point. It is sort of a similar situation.” I stopped again, but this time, I took a breath and said it. “I don’t think I could ever feel afraid if you’re around.”

His expression relaxed and that warm smile returned. It was amazing how it made him look so different—approachable, kissable. I felt the side of his hand brush against mine, and I allowed my pinky finger to curl with his. My chest was so tight. I didn’t want to do or say anything that might break our connection.

After several paces, he pivoted to face the direction we’d come. “We should probably head back.”

The way he stood put him directly in front of me. A few steps more, and I walked right into his arms. Our chests touched, and he lifted his hands to the sides of my face, smoothing back my hair. “We’re pretty far from everything.”

My body was on fire pressed against his, and his thumbs lightly traced my cheeks. My voice was a soft whisper, my chin lifted. “It’s like we’re the only people on Earth.”

His blue eyes penetrated my gaze, and I parted my lips. Blinking to my mouth, I could almost see the internal struggle waging behind those eyes. I remembered Rook commenting on his kickass control, and all I could think was
Stop fighting
.

A low groan was the last thing I heard before his arms were around me, lips roughly covering mine. He consumed me in a desperate kiss that spun my head. Reaching to hold him, I barely registered him lifting me from the sand. My mouth moved quickly, again and again with his, as a hum of satisfaction ached from my throat.

The noise seemed to enflame him, and I felt his hand scoop under my ass. My legs went around his waist, and I kissed him deeper, as if my life depended on it, as if this moment were the only thing keeping me alive.

Our lips sealed together, bodies touching everywhere, from my hands clutching his neck to his arms around me—everything was united in this incredible kiss. When at last he lowered me again, I held on, not wanting us to part.