Break My Fall (Swoon Series Book 3) Page 2

  Turning, I watched as he approached me, stopping a few feet away, almost apprehensively.

  “What?” I asked, resting a hand on my hip. I was relieved that it was mostly dark. My face was hot, and I didn’t need this to get any worse with him noticing.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Have you been taken over by an alien?” I sputtered.

  Dawson slipped his hands in his pockets, his lips kicking into a smile. “Not that I know of. You?”

  “Definitely not. Anyway, let’s forget that ever happened, okay?”

  I didn’t wait for his reply before I turned, striding quickly toward my cabin. I thought I heard him say something behind me and could’ve sworn it was, What if I don’t want to?

  I had no answer for that. Even the possibility of him saying that had flutters twirling in my belly, so I kept walking.

  Letting myself into my cabin, I closed the door quietly, leaning against it and taking several deep breaths. Looking down, I sighed. I’d completely forgotten why I left the fundraiser early. My pretty new dress was ruined. Red wine had dried in a giant splotch smack in the middle of my chest with streaks running all the way to the hem.

  “Fuck,” I muttered.

  I kicked off my boots, the hardwood floor cool under my feet as I strolled across the room and into the bathroom. I faced the full-length mirror mounted on the wall by the shower and frowned. I looked like I’d partied hard and straggled home. Walking closer to the mirror, I took stock.

  Unconsciously, I pressed my fingers against my lips. They were still tingling from Dawson’s kiss.

  “I don’t know if it counts as a kiss,” I said aloud to myself.

  Well, what else is it called when two people’s lips press together? My internal snark snapped right back.

  “Fine, it was kind of a kiss.”

  Although I certainly thought Dawson was handsome—who wouldn’t?—I knew I wasn’t his type. I’d seen his type. Dawson liked to play the field. He was quite shameless about it, in fact.

  He liked his women willowy and classically beautiful, preferably not expecting a damn thing from him. Definitely not thin, I had curves aplenty. I gave my plump ass a little smack.

  I wasn’t ashamed of my body, but I was realistic, brutally realistic. My dark hair was straight and usually in a ponytail. I’d worn it down tonight for all the good that did. The only man who noticed me had been a total ass.

  Lifting my arm, I eyed the bruises forming where that ass had grabbed me. He startled me so much, I didn’t even remember what I said that set him off. I could be flippant and probably said something that annoyed him.

  Dawson’s presence had been a relief when he cut in like he was some kind of a protector of mine. My confusion about Dawson only spun tighter the more I thought about our kiss. We were friends and had an ongoing teasing relationship. But I’d made myself a promise it wouldn’t go any further.

  I could be epically stupid when it came to men. With a sigh, I turned away from the mirror to peel out of my ruined dress and toss it in the laundry basket. I couldn’t quite bring myself to throw it away just yet. Maybe Dani knew some trick to get that god-awful stain out.

  A hot shower later, I toweled off and put on my most comfortable pair of flannel jammies. When Dawson strolled into my thoughts, I kicked him out. Again. But I couldn’t stop thinking of what couldn’t have been more than one minute between us. The feel of his hard body and the brush of his lips on mine were branded in my memory.

  Sleep teased me for most of the night with Dawson filling my thoughts despite my protests.

  “Here you go,” I said, deftly placing a plate on the table. I was serving a group of college guys at the lodge restaurant.

  As I set down the next plate, the guy glanced up at me and winked. “Thanks, sweetheart. Don’t suppose you can join us for drinks later?” he asked.

  Despite his teasing tone, I suspected he was quite confident I would preen under the compliment contained within his request.

  The guy in question appeared to have forgotten I knew who he was. Johnny Simpson and I actually went to high school together. He ignored me most of the time back then. Well, except for when he went along with one of his entourage girls when they teased me. Because he was that guy—the one who had girls trailing him in the halls.

  I smiled tightly, not caring to refresh his memory. “No, thanks. Anything else I can get for you guys?” I asked as I slid the last plate onto the table.

  “I’m all set,” one of the guys said.

  Johnny appeared to be about to reply to my dismissal, but another customer nearby conveniently saved me when a man raised his empty coffee mug. Casting a quick smile around the table, I added, “Just let me know if you need anything else. I’ll check back shortly.”

  Spinning away, I continued with my shift. It was busy tonight at Stolen Hearts Lodge, but I preferred it that way. The tips tended to be generous here, and I didn’t like to stare at the clock.

  Unfortunately for me, Johnny didn’t give up his flirting. After his group departed, he waited by the table, standing with his thumb pressing the credit card tightly against the bill tray. With his friends gone, I was stuck dealing with him without an audience.

  “Now, I hate when a girl says no,” he said with what I thought was an attempt at a charming smile.

  I decided Dani Love, my boss and friend, would probably forgive me for what I was about to say. “Johnny Simpson, are you going to hold that bill hostage until I agree to have drinks with you?”

  A look of surprise flitted across his face. “You know who I am?” he asked, his tone only slightly cooler, still cajoling and still paired with that fake charming smile.

  “We went to high school together, Johnny. I’m Evie Blair,” I said, my tone short.

  It took him a few seconds, and then his eyes widened. “Evie Blair?”

  I ignored the flash of embarrassment likely creeping up my cheeks. High school sucked for me. I was awkward with nothing quite fitting together on my face. I also had the worst summer of my life the year before ninth grade. My twin sister died, and I felt as if half of me had literally died with her.

  Blessedly, I had a supportive family, but high school was what it was, and it’d been miserable.

  Johnny didn’t seem to pick up on any cues, a slight gleam entering his gaze. “Well damn, Evie, you sure have grown up.”

  I eyed him for a long moment. “Pay your fucking bill, Johnny. There’s no chance in hell I’m going anywhere with you. You were an asshole in high school, and maybe you’ve changed, but somehow, I doubt it.”

  “Okay, okay,” he drawled. “When have I ever been an asshole?”

  I stared at him, resting a hand on my hip. “Maybe the time you laughed when one of your girlfriends dumped her drink over my head. Or perhaps when another one teased me because my twin sister died? Which one was it? I can’t recall, but maybe you can.”

  For a moment, I thought he experienced a hint of guilt. Then he laughed. “Don’t be so uptight.” He tossed the bill tray on the table and walked out, sliding his credit card into his wallet. Yeah, he was that kind of asshole. He was going to leave without bothering to pay the bill. All because I hadn’t given him what he wanted.

  My chest was hot, and my skin felt tight. Turning, I scanned the restaurant wildly. I found Dani a few tables away, quietly loading the remnants of a finished dinner and dirty plates on a tray.

  I approached her, the empty tray in my hand hanging at my side. “Hey Dani, let me…” I began to say, but she looked up and shook her head.

  “No need to apologize. Johnny Simpson’s always been an asshole. Now I have a good reason to turn him away the next time he shows up.”

  Dani had been a few years ahead of me in high school, just like Johnny. I met her eyes, the tension bundled in my chest easing quickly. “Thanks, Dani. In case I forgot to say it this week, you’re the best boss ever.”

  Dani smiled, lifting the full tray of dishes from the
table and nudging her chin over to the table where Johnny and his friends had been. “Clean that table. Let’s finish tonight.” At the last minute before she turned away, she glanced back at me. “I just hate assholes.”

  I did too. But then, not everyone learned the painful lessons of high school when you didn’t quite fit in. I’d gained plenty of confidence since then and enjoyed flirting and teasing just as much as anyone else. Confidence aside, I didn’t think I would ever enjoy the company of men like Johnny.

  As I gathered the plates from the table, Dawson strolled into my thoughts. He was nothing like Johnny. In fact, I couldn’t imagine him standing by when someone was cruel to anyone for any reason. He was a tease, but he was always kindhearted and harmless.

  Yet I didn’t doubt for a second that Dawson had been at the top of the social heap in high school. He hadn’t grown up around Stolen Hearts Valley. He was from some town on the coast of North Carolina. No doubt, he’d been a surfer. With his easy looks and quick charm, he probably had his own entourage of girls hanging on his every word back then.

  He certainly did now when he hit the town. With a mental eye roll, I reminded myself that was why it was crazy for me to think he liked me. It didn’t matter that the brief brush of his lips against mine had sent a thrill through my body and still made my lips tingle whenever I thought about it.

  Chapter Three

  Dawson

  I leaned against the bar at Lost Deer Bar, catching the bartender’s eye. “House draft,” I called when she looked my way.

  I’d done my share of flirting with Delilah Carter, but that was all it had ever been. I would even admit I actually tried to take her home one night. Rather, I tried to persuade her to take me home. I didn’t take women home with me. That sent too many mixed messages.

  Delilah had flicked her ponytail over her shoulder and rolled her eyes so hard they almost fell out of her head. She’d told me she had more than enough men to flirt with her, and she certainly didn’t need a one-night stand. We’d been friends ever since.

  Delilah rested her hips against the cooler as she slid the pint of beer across the glossy wood bar to me. “Here you go, hot stuff. Haven’t seen you in here as much the past few weeks. What gives?” she asked.

  I took a sip of my beer before replying. The thing was, I didn’t care to explain. A familiar cloud that came along every so often had settled over me, and I couldn’t seem to shake it with my usual tricks. After a moment, I shrugged. “Just busy as hell. Work, life, and all that jazz. Miss me?” I attempted to tease, but I knew it was weak.

  Delilah smiled. “Of course. Without you here, that’s one less person I can give a hard time. You, my man, know how to roll with it. I’m not the only one who’s noticed your absence. Rumors are starting to circulate that you might’ve gotten serious with someone, though no one seems to know who the hell with. I even considered hitting Dani up for gossip, but I thought that might piss you off.”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. “No, I’m not serious with anyone. Although I don’t doubt Dani would know if I was.”

  Delilah flashed me a smile and a wink before turning away to deal with a customer at the other end of the bar. Sliding my hips onto a barstool in the corner, I cast my gaze about the room. Delilah’s observation was pointed. I hadn’t been here much lately and wasn’t even sure I wanted to be here tonight. I had talked myself into the mental equivalent of a jumpstart on my brain. Whether I wanted to or not, I was determined to have a few beers and go home with someone.

  Don’t go thinking I was the worst sort of player. I really wasn’t. I was more for flirting and having fun and keeping things light than anything else. Oh sure, I had my share of casual hookups, but not as often as people thought. I didn’t bother to correct impressions people formed over nothing more than seeing me flirt.

  An hour later, I was still only halfway through my first beer. Despite more than one woman stopping to say hello and attempting to start a teasing conversation that just might go somewhere, I wasn’t feeling it. At all.

  “Fuck my life,” I muttered. I tossed a few bills in Delilah’s tip jar and threw her a quick wave as I turned to leave. I left my half-empty beer on the bar behind me.

  It was a clear night, and the stars glittered in the darkness. As I looked up into the sky, idly counting the stars, I took a breath and let it out slowly. The air held only a hint of the cool autumn to come. After another breath, I walked to my truck. Although my attempt to reset and fall into my usual escape of a few drinks, flirting, and fun had failed, I had a backup to try to get my bearings.

  After parking my truck at the lodge, the leaves and pine needles crunched under my boots as I followed the path through the trees. As I veered off the main path and up an incline, I was relieved the half-moon cast just enough of a glow that I could keep my footing in the darkness.

  Moments later, after startling a deer and hearing a bat flying above as I walked, the trees opened up, and the ground leveled out again. The large rock here was nature’s way of offering a seat for a good view. I settled my hips on the cool surface with my feet just resting on the ground. The lights of downtown Stolen Hearts Valley were visible from here, illuminating the town’s shape.

  Leaning back, I rested my hands under my head and stared at the bright stars in the sky. My mind skipped back to a month ago. As a first responder for Stolen Hearts Valley, I’d been on call. I’d responded with Jackson and a crew to a home. The unconscious man’s face loomed large in my memory, along with the pills scattered on the floor beside him. The team worked fast, and he survived.

  I could still hear the rush of his breath when he came to, and the look in his eyes had haunted me ever since. I didn’t know if it was relief or disappointment.

  I recognized the wish to just let it all go. When depression rolled over me, it was like a weighted mist. My psyche couldn’t breathe very well, and I felt cold inside, so fucking cold. I didn’t want to give in. Ever. I got tired of how depression came back and claimed me. A few years of therapy in college had helped, yet sometimes, being clear-eyed and accepting what was happening sucked.

  I’d had more than one therapist give me quite the look when I was honest about the fact that partying helped. What they didn’t get was I wasn’t really ever out of control. All I needed was to take the edge off. I never took it too far.

  “Dawson?” A voice came through the darkness, soft with a distinctive rasp to it. As far as I knew, Evie didn’t smoke, but she still had a voice like a jazz singer in a smoky bar. It was sexy as hell.

  My chest tightened. I didn’t want her to see me like this. But I had nowhere to hide, and no one else was around.

  Man up and deal with her, my weary but strong side said.

  I didn’t even bother to sit up. “Hey, Evie,” I called into the night.

  The leaves rustled under her feet as she approached. She stopped beside the rock.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, the concern clear in her voice.

  Considering it was dark, I had no idea how she could sense I wasn’t doing so great. Fucking shitty much was the truth, but I didn’t feel like talking about that just now. Somehow, Evie’s simple concern was like a sliver of sunlight in a shadowy room.

  I rolled up to a seated position and managed a genuine smile. “I’ve been better, but I’m okay.”

  “You found my spot,” she announced.

  “Your spot?”

  With nothing but the moonlight illuminating her face, I could barely see the subtle flush crest on her cheeks. She turned and shimmied her hips onto the rock beside me.

  I hadn’t seen her since that kiss. I didn’t like to contemplate, but I’d thought about it far too much. Glancing at her profile in the darkness, I added, “I thought this was my spot.”

  Evie swung her feet, the heels of her tennis shoes bumping against the side of the rock, the sound soft in the darkness. “I guess it’s our rock then. Whenever I’ve come before, nobody else has ever been here. I thought of it as mi
ne, but I don’t mind sharing,” she offered generously.

  That ray of sunshine widened as though the shade on a window had opened and cast a soft light over me. I chuckled. “Why, thank you.”

  She leaned her head back to look up at the stars, and I found myself following her gaze, wondering how she saw the night sky.

  “The Little Dipper is my favorite,” she said.

  “Yeah? How come?”

  “Because it doesn’t take up too much space, and it’s so cute.”

  Another laugh threatened to break loose, and I didn’t hold it back. “I suppose that’s as good a reason as any.”

  “Do you have a favorite?”

  Scanning the sky, I offered, “Orion. It’s usually visible from early winter to spring.”

  “Oh, I like that one too. I like them all really. I have a telescope in my cabin.”

  Bringing my gaze down and sliding it sideways to her, I asked, “You do?”

  Her eyes met mine, the blue somehow bright in the moonlight. “I do. Sometime, if you want, I’ll bring it up here.”

  “I’d like that,” I heard myself saying.

  Evie smiled and looked forward again. We sat quietly for several minutes, but it was a comfortable silence. As much as I teased Evie, it was partly because I was comfortable with her. Oh, and perhaps because I liked her. I was so in the habit of using jokes and humor to ease the darkness inside that sometimes claimed me that I lost sight of some things occasionally.

  For example, when I teased Evie, it wasn’t to escape. I was like a little boy in grade school tugging on pigtails because he liked a girl and didn’t know how to tell her.

  Evie spoke again, nudging me out of my thoughts. “Why do you come up here?”

  With the darkness to cloak us and the way I felt with her, I found myself being far less dismissive and more honest than I would normally be. Not that I was purposely dishonest—because that wasn’t quite how it was—but it was more that I sidestepped things. A good laugh was a quick way to distract someone.