Can't Help Falling (26 page)

Emelia tucked back a piece of hair that had fallen across her face. “Maybe it will be good for him. It's not your job to save him from himself.”

The angry scar down the side of his brother's face insisted otherwise. And he was done talking about Victor. At least he didn't have to worry about his getting kicked off the squad anymore.

Emelia's finger traced the crack along the glass. “I'm so sorry. I'll find a way to fix it.”

“No.” His thumb ran across her cheek, wiping another tear away. “It's okay. It's just a boat.” This time he meant it.

She tilted her head and gave him the kind of smile that made him ignore all the warning sirens going off in his head insisting that if he didn't pull back, he would cross a point of no return. “It wasn't just a boat.” Her finger now traced a line down his arm.

He was a goner. Lack of sleep and wanting to forget everything to do with Victor overrode all rational thought. Resting his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes for a second, breathing in the heady scent of jasmine. “I'm just glad you're here.”

He felt her relax as she leaned into his hand, her breath wafting over his lips. “I'm glad I'm here too.”

Opening his eyes, Peter pulled back for a second, allowing his gaze to drink her in—her big eyes, brown hair, and naturally rosy lips that made her look like Snow White in the cartoons he'd watched as a child. They could get him into big trouble if he let them. They already had. Just being around Emelia sent every logical reason he'd ever had about not falling for someone who didn't share his faith clear out of his head.

She smiled at him, tilting her face up. Peter may have been out of the game for a while, but even he could work out that if he went in for a kiss, she wasn't going to turn him down.

He had never been so tempted. He'd split up with Sabine because even though she shared his faith and what they had was good, he knew that somewhere out there was great. That a girl was out there who would make him feel all the crazy all-consuming things he was feeling right now.

Peter sucked in a tortured breath and summoned all his self-control. Removing his hand from her cheek, he pulled back slightly.

They had to talk. He never should have kissed her in her room. It had been a moment he'd replayed in his mind over and over in the few days since. It had felt so right, yet it had been wrong.

He couldn't have great with Emelia. No matter how much she made him feel like maybe life would be okay without rowing. No matter how much he wanted something more with her. He couldn't. And right now he was being dishonorable, flirting and enjoying the feeling of her in his arms when he couldn't give her what she deserved. He needed to tell her why. He needed to tell her now.

“I have to talk to you about something.”

Something he couldn't interpret flickered across Emelia's face at his words. Whatever it was, it changed the air between them. Her expression tightened for a second, and she shifted away, as if she already knew what he was going to say.

I
HAVE TO TALK TO
you about something.
Every female over the age of fourteen could tell you the something that followed was never good. The only question was how bad it would be. It didn't matter if you were in a restaurant or a car, or sitting on a living room floor staring at a shattered model ship.

People didn't preface good news. It just burst out.

I love you. We're pregnant. I got the job. The tests are clear.

Then there were the things that needed framing.

It's not you, it's me. I've met someone else. I cheated on you. We're letting you go. The test results are back.

The iterations were endless, but the lead-ins were limited.

We need to talk. I need to tell you something. There's something I have to say.

“I don't understand.” After Peter's pronouncement, she'd stood up, moved to the couch. He'd followed. Situated himself a safe distance away. Then he had haltingly, awkwardly, told her that he liked her
a lot
but that there couldn't be anything more than friendship between them because he believed in God and she, well, didn't. At least, not like he did.

This from the guy who, only a few minutes ago, had been inches away from kissing her. Again. He couldn't deny it. She wasn't going to ask him to.

Emelia focused on a spot just over his shoulder. “I don't understand.” Had she said that already? Well, she didn't. She truly didn't. What was the big deal? She'd known plenty of people who had married across religious boundaries. It had never seemed like much of an issue to them. As far as she could see, they both agreed to respect each other's beliefs, or lack thereof, and all was well.

“I'm not a guy who just goes to church on Sunday because it's a thing to do. Like . . .” He shrugged. “I don't know, grocery shopping.”

“Okay.” She still was no closer to getting it, but she took a shot at filling in the gaps. “So, you try to live your life with all of those kind of values?” She was mentally trying to catalog what that might include. Sex was out. She hadn't been in a relationship for years and she wasn't a casual sex kind of girl, so it wasn't like she was having any right now anyway. She'd seen him have a beer, so he wasn't a teetotaler. She had no clue where he stood on gambling, but she didn't care. Dancing? She'd no sooner have gone back into another nightclub than she would have drunk gasoline, so whatever.

“I do.”

“Okay. I can respect that.” What was she doing? This was the barrier she'd been hoping for, the one that would force her to get a grip on her growing feelings. She couldn't date a guy when she was responsible for the death of someone he loved. And this was the perfect excuse. God. If she'd believed in Him, she would've offered up a prayer of thanks. Or whatever it was one did.

But despite all her attempts to tell herself the million reasons why this was a good thing, her heart wasn't buying it.

Peter mumbled something that she couldn't quite make out.

“What was that?”

He sucked in a big enough breath to fill three people and looked her straight in the eye. “That's not enough.”

She couldn't have been more taken aback if he'd slapped her. It wasn't enough? What more did he want? “Why?” The three letters leaked out of her. Small. Hurt.

She wasn't enough. Even though that wasn't what he'd said, that was what he meant.

He seemed to have read her thoughts because the next thing she knew, her hands were captured in his. “Emelia, look at me.”

She tilted her chin a little, but not quite enough to be able to see into his eyes. That would be her undoing.

“I really like you. I would have asked you on a date weeks ago if it wasn't for this.”

Well, that was a nice consolation prize.

“I know how this goes. My mum, she believes. My dad doesn't. My whole life I've watched what it looks like when two people love each other but don't agree on something that infiltrates your whole life. I would love nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and explore whatever this is between us. Hope that along the way you'll come to believe what I do. But that wouldn't be fair. I can't do that to you. I can't do that to me.”

“You didn't think it might have been a good idea to mention all of this before you kissed me?” She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. Why did she even have to go there? Bring it up?

“I'm so sorry.” He did look genuinely stricken. “I acted dishonorably. It should never have happened. I just . . .” He sighed. “Sometimes when I'm with you everything feels so right. And the truth is there's not much that's right about my life right now. But that doesn't excuse what I did.”

“Couldn't we just . . .”
The words died on her lips before she could even say it. Peter wasn't that guy. He wasn't the guy who dated for some casual fun. He was the guy who went all in. He was the guy every mother wanted for her daughter because he was honorable. He wouldn't play around and carelessly break someone's heart.

And she couldn't deny that he was right. In the haze of blazing attraction, she might like to think that she could be all understanding and tolerant of his beliefs, but she knew that when it really mattered, she wouldn't. She'd get annoyed. She'd get frustrated. Resentful. Eventually it would poison everything.

And that was before the guilt got to be too much and she would be forced to look him in the eye and tell him that she used to be Mia Caldwell. That she was the reporter responsible for his cousin's death. And then he wouldn't just leave her. He would hate her for the rest of his life.

Outside of her friendship with Allie, knowing Peter was one of the best things about her life in Oxford. It was too important to sacrifice trying to pursue something that might feel good in the short term but ultimately would end in heartache.

“Couldn't we just . . . ?” He was waiting for her to finish her question. Thankfully, he seemed to have no idea what she was going to say next.

“Stay friends?” Emelia said.

There was nothing she wanted less. There was nothing she wanted more.

“S
tay friends.”

For the first time, Peter understood what Dickens meant
when he penned the line
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

He could no more imagine his life without Emelia than he could imagine it without rowing. But the reality—that what he desperately wanted with her would never happen—was brutal. He was going to need some space. Despite all his lofty words, the truth was that when he was around her, most of his reasons flew out of his mind.

The fact that he'd managed to utter them coherently, that she'd seemed to understand what he was trying to say, was pretty much a miracle.

Emelia bit her bottom lip. “Just so we're clear. If I were . . . If I believed like you do . . .”

Peter's fingers curled around the edge of the couch cushion. “If there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that no one can find God for someone else. They can only find Him for themselves. My biggest hope is that you do find Him. But you have to do it for you. Not for me. Not for anything we might have.”

That was optimistic. There was such a lack of single Christian girls in this town that the minute Emelia came through the doors of any church, she'd find herself swarmed by guys.

A horrible, selfish part of him hoped it never happened for exactly that reason. If they ever shared the same faith, she'd soon discover her new dating pool held options far superior to a failed wannabe rower whose current best claim to greatness was
almost
being an Olympian. It would only be a matter of time before he lost her.

He felt like the world's biggest heel that the thought had even entered his consciousness. But there it was. A tiny part
of him wanted things to stay the way they were because at least then he'd still have her in his life, even if it wasn't how he wanted. Because a voice inside him told him that the minute she found God, she'd also realize she was way out of his league.

“H
I
, E
MELIA SPEAKING
.” E
MELIA WEDGED
her phone against her ear as she mouthed
just a sec
to Allie, who had just entered her office. Clicking her mouse, she set her computer to shut down.

“Oh, thank goodness. I was beginning to think I was never going to get you!” Lacey's breathy tones came down the line, the words tumbling over each other. Her cousin spoke at the same speed she lived her life in general.

“Sorry. Have you been trying to get ahold of me?” Emelia glanced at the unfamiliar number on her screen before realizing that it wasn't going to show any missed calls while she had a call open. Knowing her luck, if she tried to play with the screen to see, she'd hang up on Lacey.

“Have I been trying to get ahold of you? Only for like the last week.”

“Oh, was that you?” She'd had a few missed calls from a blocked number, but since no one had bothered to leave a message, she'd assumed it was a telemarketer or someone equally exciting. “Why didn't you leave a message?”

Her cousin blew out a blast of air. “You know I hate voice mail. So, what are you up to this weekend?”

“Not much. More ball stuff.” She and Peter needed to take a trip out to his parents' to measure the entrance to the ballroom
for the wardrobe. Their first decent amount of time together since the excruciating conversation in his living room.

“Fancy some company?”

“Um, what?” Something started dawning. “Hold on. Where are you?”

“Right now? London. I'm over for the week for work. But tonight I'm going to catch the train and come to Oxford for the weekend. Surprise! I've already looked at the timetable, and I can catch a six fifty from Paddington and get into Oxford at seven fifty.”

“Oh, wow.” Which were not the words going through her mind, but it was all irrelevant. Her date with destiny was coming for her.

“So, can you pick me up or should I catch a cab somewhere?”

“Um . . .” Emelia was left fumbling. “I'll have to check and get back to you. Is this the number you're using?”

“Yup. Okay, see you tonight! I'm
so
excited.”

“Me too!” Emelia tried to imbue her voice with some enthusiasm. Her cousin knew she hated surprises. That was partly why Lacey loved springing them on her. She closed the call and dropped her phone into her bag.

“Is everything okay? You look a bit stunned.”

Emelia startled. For a second she'd forgotten Allie was there.

“My cousin Lacey is in London. She's coming to stay for the weekend.” Oh, heck. She hadn't even checked with Allie. “I mean, she doesn't need to stay with us. She can get a hotel or something.”