When I Fall in Love Page 22

  “Of course Raina could help. Ty too, and yes, that’s a great idea about the cooking school, even if they did reject my application, but the real problem is . . . I don’t know Hawaiian cooking that well.” She sank onto a tufted stool. “I can’t put this together on my own.”

  “Don’t be silly. You just spent three weeks learning how. Use the recipes you learned.” Eden smiled. “I trust you.” She disappeared again behind the curtain.

  Eden shouldn’t trust her—not after the salt fiasco. In fact, this plan had the makings of a disaster. “How many people are coming?”

  “About a hundred of our closest friends?”

  Grace had no words.

  “How about if I shorten the list to seventy-five. Keep it intimate.”

  Seventy-five was intimate?

  “C’mon. You just pulled it off for Ivy and Darek.”

  “Are you kidding me? Seventy-five guests for a sit-down Hawaiian-theme dinner is a far cry from Ivy’s and Darek’s forty friends and some chicken on the grill.”

  Eden came out a moment later, back in her jeans, flip-flops, and a T-shirt. She took Grace by the shoulders. Met her eyes. “You can do this. And you will do this because I’m desperate, Grace. I need you.”

  Grace felt as if she were Owen on the receiving end of one of Eden’s legendary pep talks. No wonder Owen turned out to be a star—Eden talked him into it.

  She sighed. “I don’t know.”

  Eden looped her arm through Grace’s. “Fine. I’ll sic Jace on you.”

  “That’s just playing dirty.”

  Eden grinned. “I knew it. You are a sucker for hockey players.”

  Grace started to smile, especially since she knew it was so true. She’d do just about anything for Jace—even more for Eden, of course, but yeah, something about hockey players turned her weak.

  Even if she hadn’t realized it until three weeks ago.

  They walked out the door of the bridal salon into the hot summer. Eden clicked the locks on her car—Owen’s old car, his Dodge Charger. He’d left Eden the wheels when he ditched Minneapolis.

  They pulled out and got on 94, headed east.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Jace wanted to take us out for dinner tonight. Have a little welcome-home celebration. I hope that’s all right.”

  “That sounds great.” Her body buzzed, still set on aloha time. Right now she’d be finishing class, and Max would be getting ready to surprise her with their afternoon activities. Hiking, parasailing, surfing, or maybe just a walk along the beach.

  Something fun, even romantic. Something that would change her life.

  Something that she should forget.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there.” Eden veered toward St. Paul.

  “I’m just tired.”

  “You haven’t said anything about Max.”

  Grace lifted a shoulder. “Nothing to say. He was my cooking partner.”

  “What are you talking about, nothing to say? You two stole the show!”

  She glanced at her sister. “Don’t tell me you saw the videos too.”

  “I was a fan! I tweeted about you, cheered you on. I was glued to every episode.”

  Grace sighed.

  “Grace . . . last time we talked, you were going to wear a hot dress and get the guy to notice you. Then you land on the show. And now you’re all . . . ‘nothing to say’?” She put her hand on Grace’s. “What happened?”

  She didn’t know where to begin.

  “Did you tell him you had feelings for him?”

  “No.” Not really.

  “Oh. Did he tell you?”

  “No.” Not really.

  “Did . . . did you ride home together on the plane?”

  “No.”

  “Give me something here. Please tell me that at least you’re going to see him in Minneapolis.”

  “Nope.”

  Eden said nothing else as they drove.

  Jace lived in a beautiful high-rise apartment complex in the heart of St. Paul, just blocks from the arena where he used to play his heart out and now would help coach the Blue Ox.

  The doorman sent them up, and Jace met them at the door of his apartment, wearing jeans and a Nike T-shirt. “Grace.” He swept her up in a hug.

  She couldn’t help noticing how much it felt, for a second, like being in Max’s embrace. Big. Strong. Breathtaking.

  Except he wasn’t Max. Didn’t make her heart race. Didn’t make her want to pound her fists on his chest and demand answers.

  Eden closed the door behind her and gave Jace a kiss. Grace walked to the tall glass windows that overlooked the skyline. The sun had already begun its descent behind the gleaming buildings to the west.

  “I hope you don’t mind—I invited Max,” Jace said. “I thought we could have a little celebration for your almost win.”

  Grace whirled around, her mouth open, but didn’t have to say anything because Eden had Jace’s arm and was shaking her head.

  Jace’s eyes widened. “What?” He looked at Eden, back to Grace. “What don’t I know?”

  Eden sighed. “I don’t know why, but Max and Grace didn’t hit it off like it seemed they did on national television.”

  “It wasn’t national television. It was local cable, and I had no idea the world was watching.” Grace moved into the kitchen, leaned against the black granite countertop. Sighed. “Okay, the truth is—you saw the fiasco. The moment when we realized we’d ruined our dessert.”

  “Yeah. That was . . . wow,” Jace said, his expression betraying the horror of the moment.

  “Max didn’t take it well. He totally freaked out and . . . and then he just left.”

  “He left you at the competition?”

  “No.” She took a breath, searing her lungs. Blinked her tears away. “No. He left . . . Hawaii.”

  Silence thrummed in the room as the couple stared at her. So apparently his behavior was exactly as horrible as she thought. “He hates me.”

  “Oh, Grace, he doesn’t hate you.”

  “No, you don’t understand. He loves cooking. And he hates mistakes. I blew it big. I handed him the salt, and . . . I embarrassed him.”

  Eden took her hand.

  Jace shook his head, a grim look on his face. “I’m going to have to hurt him. I have no choice.” He didn’t seem like he was kidding.

  “No, Jace. It’s fine. It’s no big deal.”

  “It is a big deal. Especially after the Owen thing.”

  Now Eden turned to him, and she nearly chorused with Grace. “What Owen thing?”

  Jace stared at them, the blood draining from his face. “Uh . . .” He ran his hand behind his neck. “Oops.”

  “Jace Jacobsen, tell me what you’re talking about.”

  Oh no, Eden used her scary voice.

  He winced, clearly drawn in by her power. “It was an accident, no doubt, but Max came to me shortly after Owen’s injury and confessed that he believed he was the one who hit Owen. It was his stick, his movement. His fault.”

  The room went silent. Grace’s heart hammered in her chest.

  And then, like a wave crashing in and wiping clean the past, she got it.

  Max didn’t blame her—he blamed himself. Maybe that was why he’d apologized at the competition. But she hadn’t listened, and . . . it was too much for him. Not only had he hurt Owen, but he’d hurt her too. Accidentally, both times.

  Max didn’t do accidents.

  She used the counter to balance herself, to keep herself upright as the phone rang. Oh, Max.

  Jace answered the phone. He spoke quietly, then hung up. “He’s here.”

  Trust Me. The words tucked into Grace, and she took a breath. Trust Me and expect more.

  “Okay. Let him in.”

  The last place Max wanted to be was riding in Jace’s penthouse elevator, about to face his old captain with the news that he’d let him down. Apparently he’d perfected that MO. First Brendon, then Grace, of course, and fi
nally Jace.

  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.

  TONIGHT RAINA 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.