Part 25 (1/2)
”Somehow I believe you.” She leaned her forearms on the table and looked into the bookstore, wondering whether Anika and Billie had spotted him. Though she and Landon lived in the same town, they ran in completely different circles. He was straightforward and good, the type who divided his time equally between church, the gym, and the fire station.
Ashley didn't spend time in any of those places, so though he'd been back home for more than two years, she could count on one hand the number of times they'd actually run into each other. ”Where's Cole?”
A part of her heart was touched that he remembered her son's name. He'd seen the boy only once-when she'd had him dedicated at an evening church service just after his first birthday. Landon had heard about it from her parents and showed up with a present, an engraved picture frame that still sat on Cole's nightstand.
”With my parents. He likes it there.”
216 He leaned back in his chair. ”How long's it been, Ash?” She thought about that for a moment. ”A year at least.”
He nodded, and the faraway look in his eyes told her he remembered their last meeting as if it were yesterday. ”So ... what's new?”
Ashley doubted that was the question he wanted to ask. The real question, the unspoken one, hung around them like a cloak, and she decided not to make him guess. ”I'm not seeing anyone, if that's what you're wondering.”
He nodded thoughtfully. ”I'm not either.”
The girl from behind the counter placed a steaming drink on the take-out shelf and searched the room. Ashley gestured toward the cash register, leaned close, and whispered, ”Your admirer has your drink ready.”
”My admirer?”
He turned, and the girl gave him a cutesy-type wave. Ashley whispered again.
”That one.”
Landon turned to her again and settled into his chair, making no effort to retrieve his coffee. After a while he crossed his arms, his eyes never leaving hers. ”May I call you sometime?”
Her heart rate sped up, and she worked to look indifferent. ”Why?”
”Relax, Ashley.” He chuckled and shook his head. ”I'm not asking you to marry me. Just talk a little, catchup on the years.” Her better sense screamed at her to say no, to tell him to leave her alone and let his feelings for her die. But being in his presence now was more enjoyable than she liked to admit, and she let her gaze fall to her hands.
What harm could there be in talking to him now and then? She lifted her eyes and met his. ”I live on my own now.”
He raised his eyebrows, and a slow grin worked its way across his face. ”Call me crazy, but the way you said that almost makes me think you're saying yes.”
A giggle slipped from between her lips, and she silently scolded herself. Why was she doing this-leading him to believe 217 there was any hope? ”Okay.” She reached into her oversized crocheted handbag, grabbed a pen, and scribbled her phone number on a napkin. She dropped her chin, gazed up at him, and slid the napkin across the table. ”You can call.”
He took the paper, folded it, and slipped it into his wallet. Then he studied her for another moment and tapped his finger on the table two quick times. ”Good seeing you, Ash.”
She leaned close and whispered once more. ”Your coffee's getting cold.”
He left then, moving back to the counter as easily as he'd come, taking his drink and looking at her over his shoulder once more before leaving.
The moment he was gone, she silently cursed herself for giving in. What's wrong with me? Were his looks that hard to resist? She dried her palms on her jeans and knew the answer. Forget the fact that they were as different as night from day. Something about him was flat-out irresistible.
That's why she had felt compelled to go as far as Paris to get away from him.
But where could it possibly lead? Landon was everything she was not. Stable and steady, the type of guy who deserved -- what did her mother call it? -- a Proverbs 31 woman, someone who would honor him and make him proud and sit by his side at church.
Quite simply, Landon was the marrying type, and she was not. Something occurred to her then, a thought that had irritated the delicate places in her soul a handful of times since she'd been back in the States. It wouldn't be that hard to lose Landon if she wanted to. He didn't know about what happened in Paris.
If he did, he would toss her phone number in the nearest trash bin.
In fact, he wouldn't have asked for it in the first place.
218 218.
219.
Kari's legs shook as Ryan led her back to the beach chairs by the fire. He slid his chair closer to hers so that when they sat, their legs and arms touched.
Heat from the fire warmed Kari's freezing legs, but it was nothing compared to the way Ryan's nearness warmed her body.
”Cold?” She shook her head. ”I'm okay.” It was partly true. She could survive the falling temperatures. It was the story he wanted to share that concerned her.
”I've looked for a way to talk about this ever since I got hurt.” Ryan gazed out at the silvery reflection of moonlight on the water. ”We should have done it a long time ago, but ... I don't know. I'm not sure exactly what happened.” He looked at her. ”Obviously you walked away believing something that wasn't true.”
Her mind swirled with possibilities, trying to understand what he was saying.
The events of that day were perfectly clear, weren't they? The nurses at the hospital had confirmed it. ”I ... I guess I don't know what you mean.”
”Let's do this.” There was a softening in his features, and she 220 saw that whatever the misunderstanding, he didn't hold it against her. ”You tell me what you think happened, how you remember the day I got hurt and ...
everything that followed it.”
Kari nodded and stared out at the lake, her thoughts drifting back to a time she'd never been able to delete from her memory. ”It was November. I was a junior in college.”
”Right.” She closed her eyes and pictured her family going about its business that Sunday afternoon. Brooke was already away at medical school in Indianapolis, but the others were home. Mom was in the kitchen. Ashley, Erin, Luke, and Dad were watching the football game on television.
Kari bit the inside of her lip. ”By then I'd been hearing things from your friends, you know ... here and there.”
Ryan's eyebrows raised a bit. ”About me?”
”About how you were spending your time.” Kari had a group of friends she hung out with back then, several of whom had known Ryan in high school and still followed his career. Two of them had even flown out and caught a game a month before Ryan was hurt.
”What'd they tell you?”
Tears stung at her eyes as she struggled to find her voice. ”A bunch of us went bowling after they got back. They were full of stories.”
”Like what?” The surprise on Ryan's face was genuine, and Kari felt increasing tremors of doubt ripple across the foundation of everything she'd believed.
”Like how well you were doing, how much money you earned ... and the girls.”
Ryan laughed and ran his hand over the top of his head. ”I took them to a players' party.”
”That's what they said. All they could talk about were the women around you.”