When I Fall in Love Read online

  Max pumped his hand. “Nice to meet you. I came to give your sister a ride to the rehearsal dinner.”

  And although her brain screamed at her to say no . . . “Sure, that sounds great.” She glanced at Casper. “Raina can drive my car back to Eden’s place.” Sorry, Bro.

  She gave the room a once-over, then went to the kitchen to drop off her schedule, talk through tomorrow’s events with the staff, and retrieve her purse.

  When she came back, Max stood in the middle of the room, looking at the grandeur. “It’s really pretty, Grace.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You know how to take something ugly and turn it beautiful.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t actually call the space ugly—”

  “It’s a warehouse with brick walls and a cement floor and big metal doors. It was ugly. Now it’s breathtaking.”

  Oh.

  “Ready to go?”

  She nodded, and to her surprise, he held out his hand.

  She took it, lacing her fingers with his, feeling the warmth. His thumb curled over her hand, caressing tiny circles, sending tingles up her arm.

  When they got to the car, he walked around to hold the door open. He’d taken the top down, but the heat of the day lingered. The late-afternoon sun spilled gold around the buildings, glinting on the windows of the warehouse across the street.

  Grace got in and watched as Max circled the car, climbed in.

  He seemed . . . different. Like the Max she’d seen that last night before the competition in Hawaii. He glanced at her, and she thought she saw something sweet, even hopeful, in his eyes.

  He drove them out of the warehouse district, down Hiawatha, but kept going past Eden’s street, heading southeast.

  All the way to Minnehaha Park. He parked in the lot and got out.

  “Max?”

  “I need to talk to you, Grace. And this seemed to be the prettiest place I could find.” He came around to her side, opened the car door. “Will you take a walk with me?”

  This was where he told her that they could only be friends. That she needed to get the thoughts about him out of her—

  He took her hand again.

  They walked along a path lined with towering oaks and elms, cottonwoods that shivered with the wind. Behind it all, the roar of the falls reminded her of Hawaii.

  He gripped her hand tighter.

  “Are you okay?”

  He said nothing, his face suddenly grim.

  “You’re scaring me, Max.”

  “Sorry.” He took a breath and stopped. The pathway overlooked the falls, the spray rising up to capture the late-afternoon sun. He released her hand.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I need to tell you something and I know that you’ll want to make it better, but you can’t and it’s going to . . . Well, I wouldn’t even tell you at all, but you deserve to know.”

  She rubbed her arms, chilled despite the heat. She should head him off before he made this more awkward for both of them. “Max, if you’re going to tell me that we can’t have anything past right now, I get that. And it’s okay. You always said that you weren’t looking for a relationship. I should have believed you. I know what happened in Hawaii was a mistake. And yeah, I was hurt. I was really hurt.”

  “I’m so sorry, Grace. I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

  “I know. You had to get back to your real life. It was a fairy tale in Hawaii, and being with you on vacation changed my life. See, when you left me there, something happened.”

  He looked at her fast, a crease in his brow.

  “Nothing bad. In fact, it was all good. I realized that . . . well, I’d gone to Hawaii looking for something. It wasn’t until you left that I realized the thing I was looking for wasn’t you. It was God. I want more out of life than just . . . just staying where my fears trap me. I want to know all that God has for me—His love, His power, His grace. And it wasn’t until I gave up everything I was holding on to and reached out for Him that I realized it was right there, waiting for me. I’d just missed it because I thought I could find it in you.”

  He seemed worried, even hurt, so she touched his cheek. “You are an amazing man, Max. You are brave and patient, and you can cook circles around me. But I am going to be okay without you.”

  His eyes glistened and his expression broke, something desperate in it. “But I don’t think I’ll be okay without you.” He took her face in his hands. “I love you, Grace. Wow, I want to love you. I want you in my life. I want to grow old with you and have babies with you—”

  She kissed him. Just rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

  She tasted salt in his touch, and it only whetted her heart for him. She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulled him closer.

  And then, with a tiny groan that escaped from deep inside him, he kissed her back. His arms went around her, and he pulled her to himself, into his strong arms, kissing her as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He touched his lips to her eyes, her cheeks, returning finally to her mouth.

  Max. She slowed his pace, running her thumbs down his cheekbones.

  Sweet Max was crying.

  He pulled back and tried to smile, but it was lopsided. He opened his mouth, but nothing emerged.

  She’d rendered him speechless. I love you, too. The words were bubbling up, ready to burst from her, when his phone rang.

  He stared at his pocket as if it might contain a bomb.

  Grace laughed. “Get it, Max.”

  “Uh—”

  “Seriously. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He held her hand, though, as he glanced at the screen, then frowned and answered the phone. “Yeah?”

  He listened for a bit, his face growing darker. “I’ll have to call you back.” He hung up, pocketed the phone.

  She asked, “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s probably nothing. I need to get you home so you can change for the rehearsal dinner.”

  Oh. She couldn’t deny the boulder that landed on her chest. He held her hand all the way to the car, tight, as if he couldn’t bear to let the moment go either. But they’d have more. At the wedding tomorrow and then . . .

  Then . . . ?

  It was on her lips to ask, but it felt so vulnerable and raw. Maybe she’d wait until she told him she loved him. Maybe then they could talk about a future.

  He glanced at her now and again, squeezing her hand as he drove. But when they pulled up to Eden’s house, he didn’t get out.

  Didn’t kiss her good-bye.

  He just drove off, and she had the strangest sense, like she did in Hawaii, that she might not see him again.

  Silly, right?

  At night, it became easier to forget her mistakes. Her appetite returned, her stomach stopped betraying her, and Raina felt normal.

  At least as normal as she could muster, given the fact that her life seemed to be unraveling before her eyes. Her plans to stay in Deep Haven, to become a part of Casper’s life, his family, were all a gnarled, sad mess.

  In a way she was a part of the family, except she wasn’t going to show up on the Christiansens’ doorstep with Owen’s child in her arms, like an episode of All My Children.

  No. Any hope of being a part of that family Owen had stolen from her. Maybe she’d stolen it, too, but regardless, she could never return to Deep Haven. To the Christiansens.

  If only her car hadn’t quit on her earlier this week, she could leave. But maybe as soon as the reception finished, she’d get on a bus, head west. Maybe to . . .

  It didn’t matter. Anywhere but where her memories might find her.

  Raina stood in front of the sink, letting the steam rise as she finished washing the last of the butcher knives. She’d already prepped the salad and vegetables for tomorrow, already looked over the schedule, already been assured that everything would hum along as planned, the vegetables roasting, the pig on the grill. She’d sent home the kitchen assistants and then taken a final walk through the venu
e.

  The beautifully decorated warehouse did capture the romance of the event, with the lights glittering, reflecting the joy awaiting Jace and Eden. Raina had stared at the dance floor too long, remembering her hopes for dancing under the stars with Casper.

  How stupid she’d been to think that there might be a happily ever after waiting for her. That happened to other people, with lives that made sense.

  She plunged her hand back into the hot, sudsy water, feeling around for a knife handle. The slick blade ran across the meat of her middle finger, burning even as she pulled back. Blood ran down her arm.

  She grabbed a towel, pressed it against her finger.

  “Are you okay?”

  The voice jerked her around, and she saw Casper advancing into the kitchen.

  “Did you hurt yourself?” He wore his leather jacket over a white shirt and tie, a pair of dress pants, but his five o’clock shadow added a rugged appeal.

  The kind of appeal that might make a girl forget her woes and jump on the back of his motorcycle.

  Which, frankly, was how she’d gotten into this mess in the first place.

  “I know better than to put a knife in the sink. I just got absentminded. It’s nothing, though—a small cut.” She should have expected him to show up—he’d seemed to be hovering the last few weeks, close enough to hear if she decided to call out, to need him.

  Oh, how she needed him. But shame kept her mute. Now she watched, her heart bleeding out even as he came over, took her arm, inspected her wound. “It’s not deep—probably doesn’t need stitches. Do you have a first aid kit?”

  She pointed toward the kit attached to the wall, and he went to retrieve it.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He found a Band-Aid, a cotton ball, antiseptic, some antibiotic cream, and returned to her, moving her to the table. He patted it, and she slid onto the smooth surface. “The rehearsal dinner’s over, and I didn’t see you. I thought maybe you needed help with something, so I swung by, saw the lights, decided to make sure you were okay.”

  Of course he did. Because that was Casper, the guy who showed up. Who stuck around even when she’d done everything she could to push him away. She watched as he cleaned her wound, then doctored it with the ointment and Band-Aid.

  He wrapped the wound, then lifted her finger to his lips and sweetly kissed it.

  Her face heated. “Casper . . .”

  “I don’t know what’s going on, Raina. But if you let me, maybe I can fix it.”

  She sighed, pulled her hand away, and slid off the table. “I don’t think you can fix this.” She returned to the sink, but he moved her aside.

  “I’ll finish this.”

  She picked up a towel as he shucked off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and plunged his hands into the water, gingerly feeling around for the knife. He found it, washed it with a rag, and handed it to her, handle first.

  She dried it as he pulled the plug, letting the water drain. She put the knife away.

  Then she stood in the quiet kitchen with him as he wiped his hands on a towel. He was such a handsome man, his eyes so blue it seemed she could fall into them, never surface.

  “Casper, I . . .”

  But she had no words because he took two steps toward her, caught her face in his hands. She didn’t have a bone in her body to resist when he leaned down and kissed her.

  It was gentle, like before, but with a firmness, a resolute strength that made her lean into him. He smelled like freedom and tasted sweet and gingery. She pressed her hands to his chest, felt the frame of his work-hardened body.

  How was she supposed to say good-bye to a man who kept showing up in her life? But if you let me, maybe I can fix it.

  What if he could? What if—? No, it was crazy to think he’d still want her after knowing . . . knowing . . .

  She pushed him away, her eyes filling. “I’m sorry, Casper.”

  He stared at her, breathing hard. “Tell me what I did!”

  “You didn’t do anything! It’s not you. I’m . . . I’m leaving Deep Haven.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I . . . I need . . .” Shoot, once upon a time, lies had come so easily. “I can’t be with you. I did something I shouldn’t have and . . .”

  He closed the gap between them, took her hands, his voice earnest. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. Listen, sometimes life just . . . it blindsides you. And for a while, you’re lost.” He leaned into her. “I came home from college because . . . I hated it. And my grades showed it. I’m not cut out for college. But the worst part was, for the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do. I’ve been hiding in Deep Haven—and then I met you and I realized I was supposed to be there. With you. I thought that coming home was failure, but don’t you see? It was victory. You are my victory, Raina. You and I—we can be happy there.”

  Tears burned their way down her cheeks. Oh, how she wanted to grab ahold of his words.

  But it didn’t in the least compare to her failures. “What about your trip to Roatán? Your pirate’s treasure?”

  “I already decided that I am staying in Deep Haven. No more treasure hunting for me—I found my treasure right here.” He cupped his hand to her cheek. “I think I’m in love with you, Raina.”

  She tore her hand away, choking back a sob. Then she pushed past him and headed toward the door.

  “Raina!”

  “I’m not in love with you, Casper!”

  There, she said it, and she didn’t slow as the words emptied out of her. Just ran past the tables toward the exit.

  “Raina!”

  No, no, no! But her eyes were blurry and she couldn’t see where she was going and—“I’m sorry; I’m so sorry.”

  Arms caught her. “Sorry for what, baby?”

  She looked up and, with a cry, pushed herself away.

  Owen seemed almost the spitting image of Casper, with his dark pants, jean jacket, his blond hair windblown. He looked past her to Casper, concern on his face. “What’s going on here? You okay? My brother giving you trouble?”

  “Stay away from me, Owen,” she said softly.

  “Whoa. I guess you’re still sore at me.”

  She wanted to slap him. Instead, she cast a desperate look at Casper.

  Casper stared at his brother, stricken. “Raina?”

  She had the surreal sense of her world shattering, right there in the middle of the twinkle-lit dance floor.

  With a sob, she pushed past Owen, out into the night.

  She had no illusions; she’d finally managed to cut Casper out of her life.

  Please, Lord, let me not be too late.

  The desperation in Max’s prayer made him lean forward into his steering wheel, look heavenward.

  He hadn’t talked to God much in the past ten years, not wanting to bother God too much before he really needed Him, but . . . today, right now, he needed the Almighty to look his direction. To care. To stop Brendon from doing something stupid.

  His headlights cut a swath over the dark, twisted highway of northern Wisconsin, illuminating shaggy evergreen, the forest thick with birch, oak, and poplar.

  He’d already nearly hit two deer, and now his gaze darted from one side of the road to the other. He glanced at his cell phone, then back to the road, wishing he could pick it up, call again.

  But his phone had died an hour ago, and in his rush to leave, he’d forgotten his charger on the counter.

  At least he’d called Jace, left a message, cryptic though it was. Jace, I think my brother’s in trouble. Tell Grace I’m sorry.

  Coward that he was, he couldn’t face her.

  “Brendon’s missing.” The two words spoken by Lizzy, her voice trembling, had cut off every word he’d wanted to say to Grace.

  Every apology, every stupid admission of emotion—all gone. What was he doing, declaring his love for her, telling her he wanted a future with her? He could bang his head on the steering wheel with the memory of it, the stupidity of his
actions.

  His conversation with her hadn’t in the least gone the direction he’d planned. He’d wanted to sit her down on the rock wall and tell her the truth. I sabotaged our contest.

  He imagined her expression, raw, hurt, the question emanating from her: Why?

  He forced himself to see the rest. The part where he told her about his disease, his fear of leaving someone behind, of . . .

  Of watching her walk away.

  Instead, he’d skipped over the essentials of that conversation to the happy ending. The part where he held her in his arms, kissed her—no, inhaled her—pulling her to himself until he felt whole and loved and healed.

  He should be grateful for Lizzy’s call, the reminder in two words of exactly why he needed to walk away.

  He kept dancing around the truth, like a moth around a flame, when he should have listened to his head instead of his heart.

  But Brendon was different. He had a wife. A child.

  A brother who needed him.

  Max hit the brakes, slowing as he passed through the tiny resort town on the edge of Diamond Lake. This late at night he didn’t expect to see lights on, and he rolled by the darkened gas station, the library, the coffee hut, the bait and tackle shop, the long, low motel flickering a Vacancy light in neon red.

  Impatience swilled through his veins as he accelerated back onto the highway toward the family cabin.

  Please—

  He’d called Lizzy the moment he got back to his apartment and found out that she’d come home to a note on the counter. Gone fishing. Lizzy might have believed him except for the prognosis Brendon received from the doctor last week. The one that showed his disease progressing faster than average, as if catching up to Brendon after its years of leniency.

  “His cognitive test showed a severe decrease in his memory, and the psychomotor test, where they combine memory and writing, was twice as bad. It’s coming on, and fast.” The tremble at the end of her voice told Max the truth.

  She knew about the pact.

  “I’ll find him.”

  His promise now sat like an ember under his skin.

  He slowed, looking for the signage to their road, then turned onto the gravel drive. The road threaded through thick forest toward the lake.