Take the Fall (Take the Fall, #1)(36)

“I think I just spotted the elusive Prince Charming,” Piper says from behind.

“Until he backs up his words, I’m not holding my breath,” I say loudly, but on the inside I’m completely breathless. My heart’s quaking, while I’m hoping he’s not lying.

“So very chaaaaarming,” Piper sings out.

I turn to face her, holding up a heel. “Don’t make me use this as a weapon.”

Piper snorts. “Go on. I dare you to throw it at me and risk breaking that gorgeous, sexy shoe on my hard head.” She lightly raps on the side for emphasis. “Like. A. Brick.”

I clutch my heels tighter to my chest and decide to not even think about the house right now. “You’re on probation.” With two fingers I point at my eyes, then hers. “So watch it.”

Practically skipping to my room, I imagine all the places I can wear my new shoes. Well, not around here obviously. I try them on and nearly moan at the sight.

Humming, I dance around the room with an imaginary partner. The shoes are so comfortable that I barely know they are on my feet.

“Nice shoes,” Seth says, leaning against the door. “Plan on wearing those for me tonight.”

I freeze, then slowly take off my heels and put them in the closet. “These are for my fantasies, not yours.”

“Where would you wear them in yours?” he asks.

I glance at him over my shoulder. He seems sincere enough, and he actually looks interested in hearing my answer. Then again…I swallow as a sweet memory takes hold.

We’re lying on a blanket down by the river. Sunlight filters through the leaves. The breeze is warm, though I’m a bit chilly. Seth and I have just made love and we’re holding hands. I’m only sixteen, but I’m sure he’s the one for me.

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?” he asks. “Pick any place.”

“The beach? I’ve never been there.”

He rolls to one side, resting his head on his hand. “I’ll take you to the beach this summer, Rowan. But what I want to know is your ultimate fantasy kind of place. A place I can save up my money and take you to one day.”

My heart melts at his words. “I need to think about it.” I’ve never thought about going anywhere, honestly. My world is on our street, four houses down.

“Wherever you are is where I want to be,” he says solemnly. “That’s my fantasy, you know. To be with you forever.”

“Rowan,” Seth says, looking at me with concern. “Are you all right?” He moves closer, but I hold up a hand.

“I’m fine. If you’ll excuse me.” I race past him. I am not fine. Not one bit. Throwing open the back door, I head outside, tears blurring my vision, but I don’t let them fall. I refuse to let them fall.

Strong hands grab my shoulders, spin me around, and shove me into a hot wall of muscle. “Talk to me, Ro. Tell me what has you so upset.”

“Let me go.” Please don’t let me go.

“Can’t do it,” Seth says.

“I don’t understand you.”

“You’ll have the deed to the house by the end of next week.”

I pull back. “It’s not about the house. It’s about everything. I don’t get it. Why is it so important for you to do this? Why now?”

“Because I’ve seen death and war and violence. I’ve held dying men, and all I could think of was you. You’re what got me through.” He shakes his head. “Not just you, but apologizing to you. I made a vow that if I came back from my last deployment, then I would make it up to you.”

“Did you ever think I might not want your apology?”

“No. Apologizing to you—setting things right—is what I’m supposed to do,” he says firmly. “In the Marines, they taught me to be responsible for my f*ckups, and I committed no greater f*ckup than when I pushed you away.”

“Okay, fine. You’ve set stuff right, or you will once you figure out what you’re doing with the shop. But the rest—me and you—how is that part of your grand plan?”

He leads me to the old gazebo in the backyard and we sit on the swing. It’s sturdy, the chains only groaning a little bit. When we were younger, his grandfather always kept it painted, and then after he passed, Miss Myrtle paid local boys to keep it white. Rosebushes, long untamed, surround the structure.

Miss Myrtle told me on more than one occasion that Mr. Tom had built the gazebo just for her—that the flowers represented their growing love. Then she’d giggle as she shared that every single rose he’d planted the first year had withered and died. But they eventually figured out the best roses for the soil and tended to them. Finally they grew and grew.

When they bloom in the summer, the scent is heady, almost seductive. I still sit out here sometimes at night and relive all the kisses I’ve shared with Seth in this swing. But I’ve never told anybody. It’s my most carefully guarded secret.

That’s my fantasy, and he’s led me right to it. Only, it’s not summer and I’m not sixteen.

“Do you ever think of all the times we sat out here?” he asks suddenly, as if reading my thoughts.

I squirm in my seat slightly, not liking where this can lead us. “Sometimes,” I answer truthfully, surprising myself. “Especially in the summer.”