Taking the Plunge (31 page)

“You don’t look happy,” Ren said.

“Because I’m not,” Nancy said.

Sydney sighed. “I think I know what this is going to be about.”

The guys returned with the food and took their seats. Derek placed a plate in front of Nancy, marinated steak with no tomatoes. He remembered.

Nancy looked at him. “You got this for me?”

“Yeah,” he said, biting into his food. “That’s what you like, right?”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“What are friends for?”

“So, what’s going on?” Sydney said, ignoring her food.

“Well, Grace blatantly told me she’s trying to steal Thatcher away,” Nancy said calmly.

“That fucking whore!”
Sydney yelled.

“Baby, there’s kids around,” Coen hissed.

Nancy’s eyes widened. She never heard Sydney be so vulgar.

“Please tell me you told Thatcher,” Sydney said.

Ren shook her head. “I would give her a bat to the head.”

Henry scooted away from her. “I’ll remember not to piss you off.”

“No, I didn’t mention it,” Nancy said.

Coen looked confused. “That’s something you should run by him.”

Nancy sighed. “She just sounded so confident that he still loves her and I want to prove her wrong. I don’t need to say anything to Thatcher. She’ll never win, he’ll never leave me, and she’s making an ass out of herself. I want to watch Thatcher throw her out on her ass on his own.”

“Wow,” Sydney said. “You really trust him. I trust Coen, but if someone was tricking
him into spending time with them, I would be throwing a hissy fit.”

“Because you’re married,” Nancy said.

“It wouldn’t change anything,” Sydney said.

“And I’m taking a step back. They are going hiking together and having dinner together. I don’t want to be around her. She can fight all she wants. I’m not taking the bait.”

“They are spending time together alone?” Ren asked. She shook her head. “I trust Henry but that would drive me crazy.”

“It is driving me crazy,” Nancy said with a sigh.

Derek nudged her shoulder. “I think you’re doing the right thing. I’m glad you’re trusting Thatcher. He won’t disappoint.”

“I hope so,” she said.

“No,” Derek said. “You know so.”

She smiled at him. “You have
a crush on him?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Maybe
a man crush.”

“A man crush?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You know, I think he’s a cool guy.”

Sydney laughed. “Coen has a guy crush on him too.”

“No,” Coen said.

“I like him,” Henry said with a shrug.

“Don’t be gay,” Derek said.

“It’s not gay,” Henry said. He wrapped his arm around Ren. “I’m more than secure with my masculinity.”

She leaned into him, her lips pressing against his neck. “You got that right.”

“I’m going to barf on my tacos,” Derek said.

“Don’t be mean,” Nancy said. “I just need to be distracted for the next week until she leaves. I don’t want to see her or Thatcher. I trust him, but it’s still hard for me.”

“You can stay with us,” Sydney said.

“No,” Coen said quickly. “We’re newlyweds.”

Sydney glared at him. “Our best friend needs us right now.”

Nancy laughed. “It’s fine. I think I’m going to stay with my dad.”

Coen breathed a sigh of relief.

Sydney looked at her. “You’re always welcome, Nancy. Just ignore my husband.”

Coen shook his head. “When I’m home with my wife, she’s mine exclusively. We don’t have time to be polite—or quiet.”

Nancy nodded. “I totally understand.”

Sydney shook her head while she gave Coen a look of hate.

Derek shrugged. “I was going to offer to let you stay with me but I realize how inappropriate that is.”

“Thanks anyway,” Nancy said.

“You can stay with Ren and I,” Henry said. “We aren’t assholes like Coen.”

Ren nodded.
“Of course.”

Coen glared at Henry. “Tell me that when you get married.”

“We still have sex every night,” Henry argued.

“Married sex is way better, man,” Coen said as he drank from his soda.

Sydney smiled at him. “You’re such ass, but you can also be so sweet.”

He rubbed his nose against hers. “It’s because I love you, seahorse.”

“That’s such a cute nickname,” Ren said. “Is that what your tattoo means?”

Coen turned his forearm, showing everyone.
“Yep. It’s my wife, symbolically.”

Sydney leaned toward her. “I have one too,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

“And it’s so fucking hot,” Coen said while he picked up his other taco. “I mean—wow.”

Sydney’s cheeks flushed.

“Maybe you should get one,” Ren said to Henry.

“You’re into that?” he asked.

“I would be with you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Nancy smiled at her friends, feeling envious. Her boyfriend was spending the day with his ex-fiancé, talking about anything. She could be making him fall in love with her all over again. Nancy tried not to think about it. It was enough to make her fall apart.

30

After Thatcher and Grace reached the waterfalls, they sat on a group of rocks and opened their lunches.

“You made mozzarella and tomato,” he said.
“My favorite.”

“Of course,” she said with a smile. “How could I forget?” She sat next to him, extending her bare legs out. She was already darker from being under the Hawaiian sun. She brushed her brown hair behind her shoulder then opened her sandwich bag. “You remember the last time we came here?”

He smiled. “I remember almost getting caught by two little kids.”

“It was an introduction to sex education.”

“Tell their parents that,” he said with a laugh. He bit into his sandwich and chewed it for a long time.

“You still have a particular diet.”

He nodded. “I do. Nancy has made a few comments about it.”

“Does she make fun of you for it?”

“No, not at all. She just teases me sometimes.”

“I don’t think there’s any reason to judge you for it.”

“She doesn’t,” Thatcher said. He looked across the water and felt the light mist fall on his skin. “So how are you holding up?”

She shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“You can ask me anything, Thatcher.” She gave him an intense look before
she turned away, Thatcher couldn’t read her expression, not like he could with Nancy. She was a bit of a mystery sometimes. “He met someone at work. They had the affair for about a year before he finally came clean.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “He’s an idiot, Grace.”

She smiled at him. “You’re so sweet, Thatcher. I can’t believe how compassionate you are even after what I did to you.”

“Love is unconditional, Grace.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t suspect anything?”

“No. I was totally blind sided.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Did you file for divorce?”

“Right before I left. I’m not sure where I’m going to live. I love Paris.”

“It’s a big place. I doubt you
’ll run into him after you find a new house,” he said.

“Actually, I was thinking about moving here,” she said, looking at his face.

“Why?”

“I like it here,” she said with a shrug.

“I guess you might be able to find a job on campus. I can ask Nancy. I know she took a few art classes there.”

“No,
it’s okay,” she said quickly. She finished her sandwich then placed the garbage back into her bag. “It’s hot. I’m ready for a swim. She stripped off her shirt and shorts, standing in her bra and underwear.

Thatcher looked up then turned his gaze away quickly. “There may be other hikers up here.”

“It’s just you and me,” she said as she walked into the water.

Thatcher looked at the trees while
he ate his lunch, staying clear of the water.

“Come on, Thatcher,” she said. “The water feels lovely.”

“I just ate,” he said non-committedly.

“I’ll save you if you drown.”

He flinched at that particular word.

“I’m sorry, Thatcher. I wasn’t even thinking.”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly.

She waded in the water, waiting for him to join her. “You
coming?”

“I guess.” He removed his shoes and socks and moved to the water.

“You’re going to get your clothes wet?”

“They’ll dry,” he said as he jumped into the water, still fully clothed. He moved underwater and swam a few feet until he resurfaced. Grace swam after him, her wet hair sticking to her scalp.

“This place is so beautiful,” she said.

“It really is.”

“Now I understand why you moved here.”

“I like
the peacefulness to it. There are a lot of tourists here, but they stick to the coast for the most part.”

“Does the landscape inspire your paintings?”

“Emotions inspire my paintings.”

“Wow. Now I understand why they’re so beautiful.”

“You should see Nancy’s. They are—breathtaking.”

Grace nodded but didn’t comment. “So, you’ve been together for a short time.”

“I guess,” he said he floated on his back and looked at the sky.

“How did it happen?”

“I saw her walking across the beach. Inexplicably, I knew I had to talk to her. She blew me off, upset that her boyfriend was treating her horridly. When I saw her painting, I knew she was different, she was like me. I fell in love with her before I knew her. I knew I had to have her. Nothing was going to get in my way. It’s hard to explain. My soul recognized hers instantly. There are no words.”

“So it’s love at first sight?”

“I don’t know. I guess.”

“Or maybe it’s just a physical attraction.”

“What do you mean?” he asked as he came to his feet.

“Maybe you’re just attracted to her physically, like infatuation, and the novelty will wear off.”

He stared across the pool and looked into landscape. “No, there’s something more between us. I know I love her.”

Grace stepped back and glided her hands through the water. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, Thatcher.”

“You didn’t,” he said without meeting her gaze.

“I mean when I left you. I regret what I did.”

“Don’t worry about it. You were happier with someone else. You can’t control how you feel. I’m just glad you were honest with me. Without trust, there is no relationship.”

“I still feel horrible about it.”

“Don’t,” he said as he walked back to the rocks. He sat on the hot stone and let his clothes dry in the sun.

“They’ll dry faster if you take them off.”

He looked at the falling water like he hadn’t heard her.

Grace stepped out of the water, her nipples noticeable in her thin bra. Her underwear clung to the wet skin of her hip as she moved. She sat down next to him, not putting her clothes on. Thatcher didn’t look at her, staring at the waterfall.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“What are you thinking about?” she repeated.

“Nancy.”

She lied down, feeling the water drip from her skin.

Thatcher stood up then walked back to his bag, where his water bottle
lay. He took a long drink, his back facing her. “You ready to head back?”

“Where do you want to go to dinner?” she asked, turning on her stomach.

He opened his bag and pulled out an extra shirt. He turned around and changed, keeping his chest hidden. “You can choose.”

“I want to go to that place we went to last time.”

“Classic Bistro?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, running her fingers through her hair.

“Then let’s go. I need to shower.”

She stood up then pulled her clothes on, watching Thatcher look the other way. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He drank from his water then moved to the trail that led back to the car. She walked beside him as they descended the hill back to his trunk. When they got inside, he started the car and drove back to his house.

Grace turned on the sound system and looked out the window, her clothes still damp from her swim. Thatcher didn’t say anything as they drove, his eyes focused on the road.

“Thanks for spending time with me,” Grace said. “This hasn’t been easy for me.”

“Of course.
We’ll always be friends.”

She smiled then looked out the window again.

When they got back to the house, Thatcher didn’t see Nancy’s car. He assumed she already went home for the day. He sighed then showered and got ready. After he changed into his jeans and shirt, they left for the restaurant. Grace was wearing a tight dress that had a low cut in the middle. Thatcher noticed it but didn’t look.

When they sat down for dinner, she stared at him intently, not looking away even when he averted his gaze. She asked him about his artwork and he responded politely. For some reason, he felt uncomfortable around her. He wasn’t sure why.

“How’s your mom?” she asked.

“Good.”

“And her husband?”

“He’s a go
od guy,” he said. “I like him. I haven’t talked to her in a while. I know she’s been busy.”

“We should go see her. I miss you
r mom.”

He nodded. “She’s pretty cool.”

“She’s better than my mom.”

He laughed. “You should cut her some slack. Being a single mom isn’t easy.”

“She still could have done a better job.”

Thatcher drank from his wine then looked across the room, watching everyone converse quietly.

“Do you ever think about coming back to Paris? I know you loved it there.”

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t thought about it. I suspect I won’t move anywhere else.”

“Why not? You’re a tumbleweed. You never stay anywhere long.”

“I just don’t think Nancy would ever want to leave her friends and family. And I was
only going to stay in Paris if we got married.”

She nodded. “I think you would have been happy there. I think we would have been happy.”

Thatcher looked at the menu even though he already knew what he was ordering. The waiter came over and took their orders. It was silent for a long time until their food was brought to them. Thatcher asked her about her job at the university and carried that conversation for a long time. When the bill came, Thatcher slipped the cash inside then stood up.

They drove back to the house then went into the living room.

“I’m tired from the long day,” Thatcher said. “I’m going to hit the sack.”

“Me too,” she said.

“Do you need anything before I go?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

He walked into his bedroom then stripped his clothes away. He lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. It was weird not having Nancy beside him. They hadn’t been together for a very long time, but he felt like she had always been there, in some strange way. When he thought about her thin lips, slightly parted, and the feel of her hair in his fingertips, he closed his eyes. He pictured her face, her laugh, her smile and felt his heart relax. If he pretended hard enough, she might really be beside him. With his last thought of Nancy, he fell asleep.