When I Fall in Love(8)
Oh no.
She should smile—she knew it. She even tried, but crazy tears filled her eyes. Maybe she could feign shock.
But Darek’s smile dimmed and it was all over. “Grace?”
“I . . .” Suddenly everyone was staring, watching. “No . . . I . . .”
Then she was pushing through the crowd, out of the building, and into the night.
What a basket case. But what if she got lost? Or her plane crashed and she had no one to reach out to as . . . ? Just the thought of leaving prickled sweat across her forehead, sent her heart crashing in her chest. She stalked away from the dock, where Ingrid still sat with Tiger, and into the darkness along the shoreline.
It wasn’t fast enough to stop Eden from spotting her or running after her. “Grace!”
“I don’t want to talk about it!”
But Eden was nothing if not tenacious. Grace heard the sounds of her sister’s footfalls behind her, stones scattering on the shore as she ran. “Stop!”
No.
But Eden caught up, touching her arm to stop her. “Grace, what’s the matter?”
Hot tears had licked her cheeks, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away as she turned to Eden. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be ungrateful. Really. It’s just . . . so far from home.”
Eden stood an inch taller and now looked at her, an older-sister concern in her eyes. “No one said you were ungrateful. But we hardly expected you to cry and run from the room. What’s the matter?”
“I know.” Grace pressed her hands to her wet cheeks. “I’m just being silly.”
“You don’t want to go to Hawaii?”
“Who doesn’t want to go to Hawaii? I mean, it’s a wonderful gift.”
Eden slid her hand to her sister’s. “We thought it would be fun—and you’ll get back in time for your summer session to start, I promise.”
From ten feet away, she heard, “Eden, everything okay?” Jace’s voice, deep and solid and so kind, drifted through the night. Eden had picked a winner with her hockey champion.
“We’re good, Jace.”
He wasn’t moving away, however, and Grace caught a glimpse of him waiting, hands in his pockets, looking up at the stars.
Just in case Eden needed him.
She stared at that picture and a shadow went over her heart.
Everyone had someone. Or something. A future. Plans. Even broken, angry, bereft Owen had figured out how to land on his feet.
Maybe that was it. She didn’t even possess the courage to leap. Didn’t want to imagine a life beyond Deep Haven.
Yet she looked at Jace standing under the glimmer of the moon, and something inside her broke open, turned raw. Hungry. She did want more. A career of her own. A little boy to hold in her arms. And especially a man who might stand in the shadows, close enough to jump in if she needed him.
She could almost taste it welling up inside. Could almost feel the nudge.
There was more waiting for her.
She just didn’t want to travel halfway around the world, alone, to find it.
THE CHRISTIANSEN FAMILY stored up happiness like stones on the rocky Lake Superior shore. They shouldn’t miss the tiny bit Raina had stolen for herself.
Not exactly stolen, perhaps. In fact, Owen Christiansen had made all the moves. He’d been the one to find her once she’d cleaned up after the wedding and found a lonely pocket of night away from the festivities. She’d been sitting at the end of the dock, letting the crisp waves of the lake nibble at her feet and nursing a glass of root beer as the last song of the night ribboned out into the air.
A perfect night to fall in love.
Owen had picked that moment to appear, almost as if by magic. He’d sat down next to her, and she was a goner.
Yes, she could fall in love with a guy like Owen Christiansen with that dark-blond curly hair, those blue eyes that lured her out of herself, those hockey muscles under his white tuxedo shirt. He’d taken off the jacket and folded the shirtsleeves up over tanned forearms. His tousled hair beckoned for her to touch it, looking spun from gold under the starlight. He appeared a prince, until he donned his eye patch. Then he turned into a bona fide pirate, ready to steal her heart and sail her away with him.
“Whatcha doing?” he’d asked, his voice slow and lazy as if he’d been eyeing her all night. “Are you new in town?”
“My name’s Raina. Raina Beaumont.”
“Oh, I know a Beaumont—”
“It’s my aunt, Liza.”
His mouth lifted up to one side, tease in his expression. “The French are invading.”
She giggled. “American by birth. But our family hails from Quebec.”
If her heart hadn’t taken flight by then, it certainly did when he tapped his beer to her glass and said, “French enough. Welcome to town, Raina Beaumont. Can I show you around?”