Happily Ever Afters Guaranteed (8 page)

Brody released her hands and pulled out a
chair for Kate to sit down in. Their knees knocked when he wheeled
himself up to the table.

“Whoops. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Every touch, even the accidental
ones, served to discombobulate her more. She’d been attracted to
Brody from the start, but the connection jumping between them was
almost frightening in its intensity.

She tried to compose herself while Brody
offered a prayer for the meal, but his warm, attentive look as the
prayer ended sent her heart soaring. Should she just let go and
allow the evening to play out as it would? For someone who was used
to planning her days in fifteen-minute increments, it wouldn’t be
easy.

“So I know you take care of pools like mine
during the day, but what else do you do, Kate? Any hobbies?”

Kate kept her eyes on her plate as Brody
loaded it with the casserole and a slice of the garlic bread he
must’ve brought out with it. “I don’t really have time for hobbies.
I’m still working on my bachelor’s degree. Night school.”

Would he comment on her long-term plan? Ask
why she wasn’t finished with her degree yet?

“That’s great.” His comment surprised her
into raising her gaze. He didn’t seem to think anything of her
school situation, was actually digging into his pasta. “Mmm. And so
is this,” he said when he’d swallowed his bite.

“Thanks. It’s my mom’s recipe.”

“I’d love to meet her sometime and tell her
how wonderful it is. So what are you studying?”

Kate had just taken a bite and motioned that
she needed a moment.

Brody grinned at her. “Wait, let me guess.
Advanced Pool Treatments?”

Kate took a sip of water to wash down the
pasta but spluttered it at his comment. She shook her head and
dabbed her mouth with her napkin.

“Hmm. Not it, huh? What about… Something in
athletics? I think you must really like working outside…”

“Wrong again,” Kate said with a chuckle.
“Biology.”

“Really? Interesting.”

She wanted to change the subject before he
wondered why she was still working on her degree at twenty-five.
“What about you? I couldn’t help but see you had a manuscript laid
out on the living room couch. What are you working on?”

For the first time tonight, a cloud passed
over his face. He frowned. “Not what my agent wants to see.” He
blew out a breath, waving his fork in the air as he spoke his next
words. “She wants me to write a travel guide for those with…
‘physical limitations’ is how she puts it.”

“But you don’t want to?” Kate asked,
genuinely confused. “I’ll bet it would sell, with your reputation…”
She tried to hide her grimace behind a bite of garlic bread. She
hadn’t meant to reveal just how much she’d followed his books.

“It might,” came his casual reply. He
shrugged. “But if I write that kind of book, it would feel
like…”

“Giving up?” she guessed, fascinated by the
play of emotions crossing his face.

“Exactly. Giving up.” Color swamped his
cheekbones as he went on. “I know the doctors don’t think there’s
much chance—any chance, really—that I’ll get back mobility in my
legs, but…”

Now it was Kate’s turn to touch him. She
brushed her fingertips across the back of his hand. “But we both
know that God works miracles sometimes.”

###

Kate couldn’t stop laughing as Brody regaled
her with stories of disasters he’d had during his travels. She
stretched her feet out in the hot tub—he’d talked her into sticking
their feet in after dessert—and leaned back on her palms, more
relaxed than she’d been in a long time.

She was enormously happy she’d decided to
come tonight.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” Brody said,
bumping her shoulder with his, and she laughed again.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Yeah?”

He turned toward her and suddenly they were
face-to-face—close enough that she could see the lighter flecks in
his ebony eyes.

Her breath lodged in her chest. Was he going
to kiss her?

He didn’t. Instead, he leaned his forehead
against hers, and the moment was almost more intimate than a kiss
would have been.

“We should try an outing for our next date,”
Brody said, holding her gaze.

Kate allowed her eyebrows to raise. “You’re
sure there will be a second date?”

“I’m hopeful.”

And she could see it in his eyes.

She was still fearful that he would find out
about her past and decide she was too far outside his social class
to continue a relationship. But he’d taken the chance asking her
for dinner… Maybe she should take a chance too.

“Listen, my friend is having a party at,” he
named one of the nearby beaches, “on Valentine’s Day. Would you
come with me?”

Kate leaned her head to one side. “My mom
cooks a fabulous pot roast, and she’s planning on making lunch on
Sunday. Would you like to come to lunch and meet her and my
brother?”

Does Kate agree to meet Brody at the beach
party?
GO TO PART
TEN

Does Brody agree to join Kate’s family for
lunch?
GO TO PART
NINE

PART
SEVEN

Four days to Valentine’s Day.

A truck door slammed and Brody looked up from
his computer. A glance out the office window showed Kate’s truck in
his driveway. Was it that time already?

Brody wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his
gym shorts and grimaced at the paint-splattered t-shirt he wore. It
was a favorite, soft and worn in, but… He’d meant to change before
Kate’s pool-cleaning appointment this afternoon but been caught up
in a first draft of his new book.

It was no wonder she’d declined his
invitation to dinner last week. He knew there were several times
she’d seen him at his worst, right after the accident. He absently
rubbed the ugly scars that showed on his right knee, a reminder of
how broken he’d been. Including his attitude.

She probably felt sorry for him.

Ouch.

Nothing for it, but to go back to being pals,
no matter how much it galled him.

He wheeled into the kitchen and fixed a
couple of tall glasses of lemonade, then loaded them into the
makeshift cup-holder he used. He attached it to the arm of his
wheelchair and forced himself to join Kate by the pool.

“Hey,” he greeted, placing the glasses on the
glass-topped patio table. “Fixed you a drink if you can spare a few
minutes.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Yeah, she sounded real enthused about it. She
barely looked up from where she was adding chlorine tablets to a
little container that he knew she would put in the pool.

Instead of waiting for her excuse as to why
she couldn’t stay, Brody plunged ahead with the apology he’d
planned.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I made you
uncomfortable the other day…”

He swallowed past the lump of embarrassment
in his throat and tried to remind himself that he was no less of a
man just because all his limbs didn’t work correctly.

“…When I asked you out. That wasn’t my
intention. I just… really like you and—”

Okay, he hadn’t meant to blurt that out. He
rushed on.

“I know I’m not… not exactly a prize catch
with these two chunks of driftwood,” he slapped one of his thighs
to emphasize his point, “not working, and I know I’ve had my
moments where my attitude hasn’t been the best—”

Kate dropped the little basket into the pool
with a splash and stood up, wiping her hands on her khaki shorts.
“That’s not it at all, Brody.”

It wasn’t? Hope leapt to life in his chest,
and sounded an awful lot like his heart thrumming.

“There are things you don’t know about me…”
For the first time in all the times he’d asked her to share a cold
drink with him, she sat down at the patio table and began fiddling
with one of the lemonade glasses.

Brody maneuvered his wheelchair up to the
table next to her, hoping his face showed he wanted to hear what
she had to say.

She took a deep breath. “I’m…” Suddenly she
turned her head to the side so that he had a profile view.
“Goodness, this is harder to say than I thought it would be. I’m
just going to say it.” She gulped another breath. “I’m just going
to say it,” she repeated. Closed her eyes.

“I never graduated high school.”

Brody heard the words but they didn’t
register at first. When the silence lengthened, Kate finally looked
at him. She must’ve read his confusion because she went on.

“I dropped out of high school when I was
sixteen.”

“Because…”

“My mom got cancer and my brother and I had
to eat somehow.”

“And you got your diploma…”

Her eyes narrowed at his leading statement,
but she continued the sentence. “GED. I was nineteen.”

“And that’s why you’re still in school?”

A nod.

“So… Are you telling me that the reason you
turned me down was because of something that happened… what? Seven,
eight years ago?”

Her face flushed. “Nine. But, Brody, I’ve
been in your office. I saw your degrees framed on the wall. I have
a hard time believing you’d want to be in a relationship with
someone who isn’t as smart as you are.”

“You are intelligent, Kate. Those degrees are
just pieces of paper—I know I’ve learned more about life outside of
the classroom.” He looked down at his lap. “Including this,” he
gestured to his legs.

This was his chance. To go big and hopefully
get what he wanted—a date with Kate. Brody hoped his hand was
steady as he reached out and took Kate’s hand in his.

“What you’ve just told me confirms what I
already knew about you. You have a big heart.”

Kate’s face remained a rosy hue.

“It’s something I really admire. A lot more
than a college degree.

“So I guess the question is…”

She met his eyes. Held his gaze this time.
Her response gave him enough hope to put himself out there
again.

“Will you go out with me? There’s a party my
friend is throwing on Valentine’s Day, out at a nearby beach. Would
you come?”

For a moment, he feared she would reject him
again, but then she smiled and said a soft, “Okay.”

GO TO
PART TEN

PART
EIGHT

Chicken.

That’s what he was. The old Brody never would
have wasted a thought on asking out Kate—he just would have done
it. Not chickened out. Twice.

Brody watched her truck roll into the
driveway and allowed the blinds in his office to flick closed.

The question was… was he going to chicken out
a third time?

Brody straightened the collar of his polo
shirt and checked that his jean shorts hadn’t ridden up thanks to
the wheelchair. Clothing okay.

Next, he breathed into his curved palm and
inhaled. Breath okay.

He’d just spritzed himself with cologne so he
should be okay on any body smells.

He needed everything to be perfect.

Praying as he maneuvered his chair through
the house, he was concentrating so hard that he wobbled as he
crossed the threshold.

He’d navigated the patio doorway a thousand
times and would have been able to right himself but his landscaper
had left a potted plant too close to the door on the patio side and
he overbalanced to avoid it.

For the first time since his lessons in
piloting the wheelchair, he tipped too far and fell out. The chair
flipped over on top of him, metal ringing as it banged against the
concrete patio.

“Brody! Oh my goodness! Are you okay?”

Through the blood rushing in his ears, he
distantly heard Kate’s sandals slapping against the concrete.

Embarrassment flooded him. Brody did a
push-up to get his chest off the ground and pulled his body out
from under the chair.

Quickly, he turned himself over so he sat
upright with his useless legs outstretched in front of him.

Kate knelt next to him, hand on his
shoulder.

His face flamed. “I’m all right. Just
embarrassed.”

“Well, don’t be. You couldn’t help it. I saw
that pot and didn’t think anything of it.”

“Well, I should’ve seen it,” he muttered.
“I’m used to checking if things block where I’m going.”

He couldn’t look in her face to see the pity
there. How could he ask her out now? When she’d seen him fall on
his face like a toddler?

He reached out to right the wheelchair and
Kate followed his movement, putting out a hand to help him.

“I’ve got it,” Brody said, still not looking
at her. Humiliation ate a hole in his gut.

Heaving himself back into the
chair—carefully, so he didn’t take another spill—he ignored Kate’s
gentle hand against his lower back.

“You’ve scraped your knee pretty bad,” she
said.

Sure enough, blood seeped from an abrasion on
his right knee.

“War wound. Can’t even feel it.” He couldn’t
keep the wan tone from his voice. “I’ll get some antibiotic
ointment on it when I go back in.”

Kate touched his shoulder, but he still
couldn’t bear to look at her. Then she knelt in front of him,
placed her hands over his on the armrests and he couldn’t ignore
her.

“It’s okay to need help sometimes, you
know.”

“I know.” He really did. He’d been accepting
help since the accident, but this encounter put a bitter taste in
his mouth.

He’d wanted Kate to see him as a man, not as
an invalid. Someone who could take her out on a date—take care of
her—not someone who needed constant help.

“Hey—” Kate tapped him on one hand. “I don’t
think less of you just because you fell out of your chair.”

It was like her, with her compassionate
heart, to know what he was thinking at this very second. It made
the moment intimate, but he couldn’t force the words to ask her for
a date. Not now, not with embarrassment seeping through every
pore.