Worth the Fall(31)
She didn’t know whether he was sorry for her disappointment or sorry she hadn’t believed in him. It didn’t really matter, did it?
Matt opened her door and held out his hand to help her in. She didn’t take it, more upset with herself than with him.
He went around, slid in, and started the car. “I tried to call you.”
Abby stared straight ahead, a million possible responses flying through her mind.
Don’t worry about it.
I didn’t expect you to come anyway.
I hate myself for wanting you here.
None of them were new.
“You don’t have my number.”
“I do and I left a message.”
Before she could argue, Gracie sang out the digits of her phone number. It shouldn’t surprise her that he’d heard her daughter show off the new skill. And it shouldn’t surprise her that he’d remembered the number. He was a Navy SEAL after all. Trained to remember all things. Be all things. And if she wasn’t careful, he could very easily be all things to her.
—
Thirty minutes later Matt pulled into Raging Rapids Water Park. Abby hadn’t put much effort into the Mary Poppins sing-along. He knew every word since his sister had always gotten to choose the car music. At least that’s what he’d told Abby when she’d given him a questioning look. Plus, Mary Poppins was hot. Kind of like Abby. He snuck another glance, trying not to smile. A cross between Mary Poppins and Megan Fox.
He put the Suburban into park, and Abby got out without a word.
“Hold tight a second, guys.” He put the windows down and met Abby at the back.
Without looking at him, she reached for the back door handle to get their things. Something was going to be said, and he would damn well say it. He stopped her with a hand on her arm and got a jolt. It happened every time he touched her. He slid his fingers down until they met and closed around hers.
“Do you want to tell me why you’re so upset?”
“I’m not.”
Her eyes told a different story along with the firm set of her mouth and raised chin. “I get that you thought I wasn’t coming and why you’d be mad, but an old couple down the hall couldn’t get their door—” He shook his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I keep my word, Abby. Always.” He tucked a silky strand behind her ear. Their eyes met, held. So wary and so alone. Would she stay alone? He tried to picture Abby with a man sometime down the road, but he couldn’t, or maybe he didn’t want to.
“Do I really scare you that much?” He cupped the side of her face in his hand. “Because I gotta tell you, you scare the hell out of me.”
Abby’s jaw dropped and she stared at him like he’d grown a second head.
“Mom! Let’s go,” Jack called.
Thank God for Jack, since he was two seconds from kissing that shocked look right off her face.
He opened the back, got out the day’s gear, and together they walked through the giant gate shaped like a wave, looking very much like a family of six.
A group of teens with pierced noses and dripping jean shorts ran by, nearly clipping Abby in the shoulder. When he instinctively moved to protect her with his body, she took his hand and suddenly everything in his world righted. Damn it. She could bunch him up like a ball of paper, then easily smooth him out with a look, a touch. Over and over again. Bunch, smooth. Bunch, smooth.
Matt dropped their gear on an empty chair. “Okay, where to first?”
—
They’d worked through the smaller slides, and Jack was growing impatient.
“Next is the big one. Right, Matt? We get to do Tsunami next.”
They’d started small, Annie and Jack riding in a raft for two while Matt rode with Gracie and Charlie. Abby waited at the bottom, taking pictures, resting her feet, and cheering when they came into view. “Yep. Let’s do it.”
The closer they got to Tsunami—a giant twisting slide with a dark tunnel—the slower Annie moved. Charlie wasn’t big enough to ride it, so he’d stayed behind with Abby and a Popsicle.
“You know, honey, you don’t have to ride this one if you don’t want to.”
“I know,” Annie said, staring at her feet, moving up the stairs one slow step at a time.
The higher they climbed, the louder the echo of terrified screams coming from the winding tunnel. Matt looked over the side where the rafts splashed out at the bottom. “Looks like they had fun,” he said, trying to ease her mind.
They were five steps away from the loading platform at the top, close enough to hear the repetitive beep, beep, beeeeeeeep signaling each raft’s turn to go. A man carried a crying boy past them, going down the stairs.