When I Fall in Love (Christiansen Family) (25 page)

And probably himself because of the hundreds of promises he’d broken over and over and over during the three weeks in Hawaii. Like, don’t date a girl more than twice. Never date anyone connected to the team. And finally, don’t let a girl into your world
 
—hockey, cooking . . . heart.

Yeah, he’d broken that one and he still couldn’t look at himself. In fact, he’d arrived home and locked himself in his condo, watching reruns of old hockey games, hoping he might scour from his mind the look on Grace’s face when he’d abandoned her at the competition. Or maybe the sound of her voice in the messages she’d left him
 
—shaky, worried.

At least Grace had gotten home okay. He’d called to check on her flight. But he should have at least texted her. Wow, he’d turned into a grade-A, first-class jerk.

Or maybe he’d always been that.

The elevator opened and he took his time dragging himself
down the hall to Jace’s door. He still couldn’t figure out why he’d agreed to come. But Jace’s voice in his message, his insistence that Max come over for dinner . . . it sounded less an invitation than a command.

Although, maybe that was just Jace. Bossy. Always the enforcer.

When he leaned on the bell, the door opened almost immediately. Jace stood there, a mountain of darkness as he glared at Max.

Huh? “Hi?”

“Get in here.” Jace practically hauled him in by his shirt, and it took everything inside Max not to swing at him.

“What
 
—?”

Then he saw her. Standing in the kitchen, her arms wrapped around herself. Looking fragile and beautiful, she took his breath away just as surely as if Jace had hit him. He closed his mouth and swallowed. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she said.

He looked at Jace, keeping his voice low. “I didn’t realize
 
—I mean, you didn’t mention
 
—”

“That Grace was going to be here? Yeah. I was going to surprise you, dude. After what I saw on the Internet, it seemed like you wanted to be together.” He held out his hands. “You can imagine my surprise when I heard that you ditched her in Hawaii.”

Max ground his jaw and looked at Grace quickly before turning back to Jace. “I . . . I’m sorry.” He glanced at Grace again. “I’m sorry.”

And he had nothing more than that. He couldn’t be here with her. Even as he glanced at her a final time
 
—just one more glimpse of her before he walked out of her life
 
—he was shaking his head, heading toward the door.

Jace blocked him as if he’d spent a decade playing lineman for the Vikings.

“What?”

“That’s not a good enough apology, Max.”

He agreed with Jace, but he stood there, shoulders rising and falling, trying to find words and failing.

Any more apology might also need an explanation. What would he say?
I abandoned you in Hawaii because I sabotaged our contest so I didn’t have to tell you that I’d led you on for three weeks? Because, baby, even though I love you, I can’t marry you.

Even with the thought, his eyes burned and he looked away.

Oh, he wanted to tell her. The thought bubbled up, filled his chest. He wanted to tell her everything, to lean into the wild hope she’d stirred in him, and to believe that yes, they could
 
—

“I don’t need an apology.”

Grace’s soft voice, closer than he could bear, slid over him.

She was smiling, something gentle in her eyes
 
—warmth, even compassion. “I understand why you left.”

“You . . .” His face twitched. “You do?”

She touched his arm, slid her hand to grip his, and squeezed, her eyes so kind he might really start to cry. “I know about Owen.”

Owen. Owen?

Oh
 
—she knew about
Owen
. His breath nearly left him. “You . . . What . . . ?” He looked at Jace.

Jace’s mouth made a tight, grim line. “Sorry. I told her. It was an accident, but they needed to know.”

Max turned to Grace, looked at her hand in his. “I should have told you.” As he spoke the words, he felt the cool relief of telling her the story. “I was
 
—am
 
—still horrified at what happened that night. I shouldn’t have jumped into the fight. Shouldn’t have been
out there in the first place. I relive that moment over and over and
 
—”

“And when you thought you’d lost us the competition, it only added to that moment,” she said.

Coward that he was, he nodded.

He gave her a soft smile but extricated his hand from hers. See, this was just another reason why he couldn’t be with her. Why he didn’t deserve her. Because
 
—

“If it helps, I forgive you, Max, for walking out on me. And for . . . well, for Owen, even though it’s not my place to forgive.”

Because she just might be the kind of woman crazy and loving enough to be with a guy who had no future. He didn’t know what to say, so he just met her eyes. “Thanks.”

“I forgive you too, Max,” Eden said, although he thought he could still see that night in her eyes. Sometimes the phone call he’d placed to Eden to tell her that he and her brother had brawled with another team still played in his mind. He still heard that quick, horrible intake of breath when she realized everything they’d worked for had died.

Max moved toward the door. “I gotta go.”

But Jace didn’t budge. “Dude. Shake it off. So you made a mistake. You gotta stop living in the past or it’s going to eat you alive. Trust me on this.” He clamped Max on the shoulder. “In fact, I have a brilliant idea. You and Grace are a great team
 
—everyone watching that competition saw it. And I need help, buddy. Eden and I are getting married before training camp starts, and Grace is catering for us.”

“I know. She mentioned that.”

Grace looked at him, startled. “You remember?”

He remembered everything. Like how he’d had to practically
force her into the competition, using exactly that reason. And how she’d stared at him with those huge, beautiful blue eyes in the elevator, just like she did now, and it nearly made him crazy with wanting to kiss her.

Which only made him think about the curve of her against him as the moonlight settled around them on the beach and the soft sound she made, deep in her throat, when she kissed him.

And that only brought back how amazing she smelled, the ocean wind and the plumeria flowers embedded in her skin, her buttery-smooth skin that tasted like coconut oil and salt and
 
—

He blew out a breath. “Yeah, I remember.”

“But the thing is, we had to move the wedding up, and she’s actually in the wedding, so . . .”

“She needs your help,” Eden said.

“What
 
—no, I don’t!” This from Grace.

Even Max frowned. “Why not?”

“Because . . . uh . . . you’ve got hockey, right?”

“Not until after the wedding.” What was he doing? A voice in the back of his head shouted at him to agree with her.

“Exactly. And Max took the same class you did
 
—learned the same techniques. He can help you with everything. You’ll be a team again!” Eden looked at Jace as if this was part of a devious plan coming together.

Grace sank her head into her hand. Her shoulders sagged a little, and Max realized he had to help her. It was only six weeks, and then he’d be training, on the road, and able to break free of this power she seemed to have over him. This way she possessed of making him want more, believe more, hope more.

She was like Hawaii
 
—she caught him up in a world where he forgot about his future and made him live right now.

“Yes.” He heard himself say it before his heart caught up. “Yes, of course I’ll help. I make a great sous-chef.”

He searched for Grace’s eyes, longing for the spark, that way she had of making everything all better.

Please.

Grace looked up at him and took a breath, wariness in her expression.

Oh no.

“Fine. But I’m going to clearly mark all the seasonings.” Then she winked.

This might be the best six weeks of his life.

T
ONIGHT
R
AINA WOULD PURGE
Owen and her mistakes from her life.

Tonight, under the spray of stars, she would dance with Casper and forget her past.

Raina stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair into a messy bun for the third time. Maybe she should leave it down. Casper seemed to like it down. He was always playing with her long braid or twining escaping tendrils around his fingers.

She let it fall over her shoulders.

In fact, he seemed to like
her
. He laughed at her pitiful jokes and found her eyes in a crowd, like when he was talking to the team or stopped by Pierre’s just when she got off shift.

And he’d kissed her. Sweetly, as if she was someone he cherished.

She’d chosen Paradise Beach last week, suggested the ride on the motorcycle for exactly the reason of erasing Owen from her memories.

She tried not to compare Casper to Owen, but the sense of magic with Owen couldn’t touch how Casper made her feel. Not on the edge of herself, falling over into danger, but safe. As if her feelings
 
—not his
 
—mattered.

Sadly, Owen still lodged like a burr in her mind. But today she’d walk in the opening parade of the dragon boat competition with Casper, side by side, his first mate. Like she belonged there.

“Knock, knock.” Liza stood at her open door, leaning against the jamb, holding a cup of coffee. “You look adorable.”

Raina felt a little silly in her black workout pants and the long, oversize team T-shirt. But she’d added a scarf around her neck and a pair of pink Converse tennis shoes. “We’re marching in the parade.”

“And then you’re going out with Casper, I’d guess.”

Raina felt a flush on her skin. “He’s really nice. A gentleman. I promise. I don’t think he’s the love-’em-and-leave-’em type.”

“I hope so.” Liza lifted her mug. “I’m glad to be wrong. Just keep ahold of your heart, honey. Only one person can give you the love you really want, and it’s not Casper.”

“Let me guess . . . ‘Jesus loves me; this I know.’”

“It’s not just a song.”

“I know, Aunt Liza. But sometimes Jesus feels too far away. I’d prefer a human’s
 
—a man’s
 
—hug.” Raina picked up her backpack, hung the strings over her shoulders. Fought a wave of nausea. For the second day in a row, she’d woken with an upset stomach. Maybe she should eat more before going to bed, but she hadn’t had an appetite.

Liza stepped away from the door. “That’s part of the plan too, Raina. But men will let us down. Only God won’t.”

She didn’t want to argue with Liza, but God had let her down plenty of times. And hello, He’d let Liza down too. After all, wasn’t her aunt still single and approaching forty? No thanks.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back,” Raina said, heading for the door.

“I’ll be at the parade, cheering you on,” Liza said quietly, and Raina had to turn around and go back for a hug.

She felt more of Jesus here with Liza than she ever had at church.

A banner flapped in the wind over Main Street, packed with cars, pickups, motorcycles, and a slew of out-of-town competitors practicing in the bay. The annual dragon boat festival lured teams from Canada, Minneapolis, and as far away as Milwaukee to compete. Thankfully, the Evergreen team only had to win the local division, comprised of maybe seven homegrown teams.

All manner of dragon boats
 
—with intricately carved heads painted green or red, bearing sharp wooden teeth and etched manes, their boat bodies painted to resemble scales
 
—floated in the harbor. It looked like Deep Haven had morphed into a medieval moat of legendary aquatic monsters.

Music drifted from the stage set up in the park, a few kids dancing to the beat of a folksy hometown band. Raina walked down the sidewalk, searching for the lime-green shirts of her teammates. On the way she spotted the downtown team, shop owners and the mayor, in their hot-pink shirts, and another team from the east end of the county, the Moose Valley team, in their denim blues.

“Raina!”

Her name floated on the scant wind, and she turned, found
Claire waving to her from a cluster of other members. John and Ingrid, who also waved, and Kyle, Jensen, Emma, Darek
 
—and there, Casper. He sat on a rock, looking at a clipboard.

She picked her way through the crowd. “Hey, everyone.”

Casper looked up, met her eyes.

Yeah, her world could come to a screeching halt with his smile.

“Just in time. We’re the fourth boat team in the parade. We all have to stop in front of the judges’ booth and do our team chant. It’s not judged, but it stirs up the competition.”

Emma climbed onto a rock. “Let’s run through it!”

Raina lifted her voice in one accord with the group, caught up in the camaraderie, the power of the team.

They had the win locked up. Especially when Casper climbed up beside Emma, pumping his fist in the air, raising a spectacle as if they were truly Viking warriors going to sea, to battle.

After the chant, he came off the rocks, grinning. “Hey,” he said.

Then he kissed her. Right there in front of everyone and . . .

Yes, this night would be perfect.

She’d never participated in a parade before
 
—especially a small-town parade. They lined up around the block in the parking lot of the senior center. Emma led them out, keeping beat on a drum strapped over her shoulders, rousing team spirit. Raina carried one end of the team banner, opposite Casper, and behind them, each teammate held a dowel affixed to one part of a long Chinese dragon, light green, modeled after their boat.

She glanced over now and again at Casper, who grinned at her. Oh, Captain, my Captain.

They stopped in front of the judges’ booth to chant, and by the end of the parade, she never wanted to leave Deep Haven.

She could become a Christiansen, grow old here with Casper.
Live happily ever after. She just had to make sure no one ever discovered her mistake with Owen.

Casper found her after they tucked away their parade paraphernalia, the team dispersing into the party. “Ready to dance?”

“Yes.” She would just ignore the twinge in her stomach that refused to go away. And the sense that if she didn’t get something to eat soon, she might . . .

“Are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

“I think it’s the heat. And I haven’t eaten much today.”

He slipped his hand under her elbow and led her to a bench. “Sit here. I’ll get you a drink of water.”

But she wanted to dance. Still, the sight of Casper running off to the local cheese curd vendor, asking for water on her behalf, seemed enough.

He cared. He really cared.

But her head started to swim all the same, and she lay down on the bench. Just . . . for . . . a . . . moment . . .

“Raina! Wake up . . . Raina . . . Okay, everyone make room.”

What? Raina opened her eyes, realized she’d fallen asleep
 
—or passed out? She tried to push herself to a sitting position, but nausea rolled over her.

In front of a crowd of gawkers, she left her meager lunch on the sidewalk.

Gross.

But Casper didn’t seem to mind. “Here, drink this,” he said, helping her to a sitting position. He crouched in front of her. “An ambulance is on its way.”

Ambulance
 
—“No, Casper, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You passed out. And you’re sick.” He clasped her hands, his expression a little undone. “You scared me.”

Oh.

“Make a path!”

The voice came from beyond her. Her view seemed fuzzy around the edges, so she blinked and then a couple of EMTs appeared. One of them was Pastor Dan from the church where Liza
 
—where she
 
—attended.

“Raina, what’s going on?” He knelt beside her, putting a defibrillator and a medical kit on the ground. Next to him stood a taller man in his forties. Sandy, curly hair. It seemed she recognized him too. Wait, yes
 
—Joe somebody, the husband of Liza’s friend Mona.

Dan slid a pressure cuff onto her arm, pumped it up.

“I’m fine
 
—really, I’m fine.”

“Shh,” he said.

Casper had barely scooted over for them. Now he sat on the bench, put his arm around her. “Let them do their thing.”

It was so silly. She just hadn’t eaten very much today. She said that to them as Dan took her blood pressure reading.

“Your pressure is a little low. I think we need to bring you in, get some fluids in you, see what’s going on.”

“No.” She moved to take off the cuff, but a wave of nausea hit her again, and she put her hand to her mouth.

“Here.” Joe shoved a disposable bag toward her and she lost the fluids Casper had given her.

She wiped her mouth with the napkin Casper handed to her. So maybe she didn’t feel stellar.

But this night was supposed to be perfect.

“You’re definitely going with us,” Dan said. He gestured to the ambulance, and to her horror, they brought over a stretcher.

“Please
 
—”

“Just do it,” Casper said. “I’ll be right behind you on the bike.”

“No, Casper.” She let Dan and Joe lead her to the stretcher, help her lie on it. “You have to be here. You have to announce the team from the podium later. You can’t come with me.”

But he was already dialing his phone. She heard his voice even as they began to wheel her away.

“Darek, yeah, it’s me. Can you introduce the team? I need to go to the hospital with Raina; she’s not feeling well. Yeah . . . no worries; I’m sure she’s just fine.”

But at the tail end of his voice, she thought she heard the finest edge of worry.

She
was
just fine. This was so silly. And yet her stomach still roiled.

They put her in the ambulance, shut the doors, and Joe drove toward the ER. Thankfully they didn’t turn on the siren. She might have died of embarrassment or begged them to simply keep going straight out of town.

Dan took her temperature. “It’ll just take a second to get to the hospital. They’ll give you an IV. You’ll be feeling better soon.”

“I’m fine.” It seemed the mantra of the hour.

They parked at the hospital, wheeled her through the double doors into the ER. “We’re going to transfer you onto a table,” Dan said.

“I can do it myself.”

But they didn’t listen, just grabbed the edges of the sheets and plopped her onto the exam table.

“I don’t feel well again.”

A nurse came up to her. “Hi, honey. My name’s Denise. We’re going to take good care of you.”

She put a basin under Raina’s chin even as she sat up and leaned forward. Nothing came out. She lay back, her face flushed and hot.

“Let’s find out what’s going on,” Denise said as she got the chart from Dan. “Not much of a temperature. A little elevated, probably from the heat. I see you’ve been throwing up.”

“Could be heatstroke,” Dan said.

“We’ll wait until the doctor comes in. Let’s get some tests done.” She hung the chart on a clip at the end of the bed. “I’m going to start an IV.” She looked at the guys. “I think we got this.”

“All right.” Dan patted Raina’s arm. “You hang in there. I’m sure we’ll see you in church on Sunday.”

She gave him a small smile. “Please don’t call Liza.”

He nodded, frowned. “Sure.”

“I don’t want to worry her.”

He nodded again. “Take care.”

As he left, Denise broke out the IV kit, grabbed some gloves. She looked at Raina, her eyes kind. “So you’re Liza’s niece? You helped cater Darek and Ivy’s wedding, with Grace, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” She didn’t remember seeing the nurse at the wedding, but she didn’t know many people. Had only made one friend that night
 
—although she wouldn’t necessarily call Owen a friend.

Oh, she hated how he invaded her mind, uninvited, sending regret like spears through her body.

She sighed as she held out her arm for the needle. Denise drew blood, then put in the IV. “When did you start feeling punky?”

“Three or four days ago. I thought I’d picked up a bug, or maybe it was fatigue from the practices for the festival.” Except, if she thought about it, she hadn’t been feeling well all week and had thrown up yesterday too.

Denise took her pulse. Wrote down notes. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

Raina lay back and closed her eyes. The IV flooded cool solution into her veins.

“Hey, there you are.” She opened her eyes and Casper stood above her. Handsome, worry in his beautiful eyes. “Sorry I’m late
 
—I had to dig my bike out of a thousand cars.” He pulled up a stool. “What did they say?”

“I don’t know yet.” She hated hospitals
 
—the smells, the antiseptic, the surreal sense of loss and tragedy that embedded the walls. Everyone acted so cheerful and happy in hospitals. But they weren’t cheerful, happy places. They were places of darkness and fear. Places where ten-year-olds lost their mothers to cancer.

Casper seemed to sense her mood even as he took her hand. “Hey, I can find someone to replace you. It’s no
 
—”