If We Leap: A What If Prequel Page 2
“How long have you been working here?” I finally asked.
“Just for the summer.”
“Are you still going to Ford’s?”
He nodded.
“Me too. I’m majoring in Art.”
“I know. I’m in Marine Sciences.”
“You’re majoring in Marine Sciences?” I raised my voice to make sure Richard overheard. “Wow, that’s really impressive.”
It also explained why I hadn’t seen him—he likely spent most of his time in the sciences building clear across campus.
Richard’s jaw tightened. He threw his first pitch. The ball knocked over the top milk bottle. Groans of commiseration rose from the small crowd that had gathered. Cole folded his arms. Richard pitched the second two balls, knocking over one more bottle but missing the third.
He held out his hand. “I paid for two games.”
Cole restacked the milk bottles and put three more baseballs on the counter. Richard pitched them in fast succession, knocking over one bottle this time. Cole cleared his throat. Richard shot him a glare and slapped another ticket on the counter.
“Richard, it’s not that big a deal,” I muttered.
“I’m winning the damned bird.” He pitched again. “I just need to figure out the right strategy.”
Cole glanced at me. His eyes crinkled with faint amusement. It occurred to me that I had never seen him actually smile. I smiled back, my belly tensing with nervous anticipation.
Richard paid for two more games and made several valiant attempts before I decided I had to put a stop to this or risk him losing a year’s worth of college tuition.
“Hey, we should get back to the Ferris wheel,” I said. “They’re probably done by now.”
Frustration hardened his mouth, but he stepped away from the booth. “Stupid games are rigged anyway.”
Spine stiff, he strode toward the rides.
“Do you want a bag for these?” Cole nodded to the water guns I’d set on the counter.
“Sure.”
He put the package into a plastic bag and handed it to me. Our fingers brushed, sending a tingle clear up my arm.
“Thanks.” I hesitated, wondering how he’d react if I asked him out for coffee sometime. We were longtime acquaintances, so it wasn’t like the invitation would be coming out of nowhere.
Richard stopped, his hands spread impatiently. “Josie, hurry it up.”
Cole’s expression darkened. I gave him an apologetic shrug and grabbed the bag.
“Have a good night.” He turned to another customer.
Disappointment rose to my chest as I rejoined Richard. He was checking his phone, his eyebrows pulled together. “They just got on. Damned Ferris wheel takes forever.” Letting out a breath, he shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Let’s go to the arcade.”
Glad to have something to do that didn’t involve too much interaction with him, I headed toward the noisy arcade. Machines pinged and buzzed, lights flashed, and teenaged boys alternately cheered and groaned. We purchased several tokens and started playing.
I picked one of the classic Asteroids games, setting the plastic bag on the ground to focus on the space battle. I got through two battles before Richard appeared right behind me.
“You do pretty good for a girl,” he remarked.
I threw him a derisive look over my shoulder. “You could do better for a guy.”
“Hey.” He pulled his mouth into a mock frown. “Fighting words.”
I turned back to the game, firing at a storm of asteroids and flying saucers spilling from the dark sky. Then Richard put his hand on my ass.
“Don’t touch me.” I slapped his hand off and tried to move away, but he planted his hands on either side of me and blocked my exit.
“Come on, Josie.” He put his head so close to mine his breath brushed against my ear. “You were the only girl in high school who ignored me. But I knew you were hot under your baggy overalls and paint. And you can’t tell me you weren’t interested.”
“I wasn’t then, and I’m not now.” I shoved my elbow back into his ribs. He grunted but didn’t move. “Richard, get the fuck away from me.”
“I’m only in town for another week. Why don’t we have some fun together?”
“No.”
He pushed his pelvis against my ass. Alarm bolted through me, fueling my strength. I shoved him harder, breaking his hold.
As I stumbled away from him, another male figure stepped in front of me. I looked up at Cole Danforth, his features hard as stone, his cold gaze leveled on Richard. Relief filled me.
“You okay?” he asked me.
“Yes. Richard was just being a jerk.” I attempted a smile. “Not that that’s anything unusual.”
Cole took hold of my arm and moved in front of me. Peering around his shoulder, I saw Richard approaching. An angry scowl contorted his face.
“Danforth, you douchebag. Get the fuck away from her.”
Cole shook his head, his hands fisting. “You’re a bigger asshole than I thought if you didn’t understand what she said.”
“She’s my date,” Richard snapped.
“I’m not your date.” Irritation tensed every muscle in my body. “I was putting up with you for my friends’ sake, but it turns out you’re exactly the scumbag I thought you were when I was nine. You haven’t changed a bit.”
Richard’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “Fucking losers, both of you. Stay the fuck out of my sight.”
He turned and stalked away, shoving through the crowd. The tension eased from Cole’s shoulders.
“Thanks,” I said. “I was only hanging out with him while waiting for my friends.”
He bent to pick up the bag I’d left by the game. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
I tucked the water guns into my backpack. As we went back outside to the pier, a fresh wave of anticipation eased my anger. I was alone with Cole Danforth. The movement of his body beside mine, his height and the breadth of his shoulders, inspired a feeling of safety and protection.
And lust. My body had rejected Richard with the speed of a whip-strike, but with Cole…everything tingled and pulsed. If he touched me again, I would light up like a twinkling Christmas tree.
“You seem to rescue me a lot.” I shot him a look of wry amusement. “Especially from Richard Peterson. You’re like my hero.”
A humorless laugh broke from his chest. “I’m no hero.”
“You are to me.”
Our eyes met with a sudden charge that arced right into me, electrifying me down to my toes. He broke his gaze first, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Where are your friends?” he asked.
“They went on the Ferris wheel.” I took out my phone and sent Lucy a quick text: Richard is an ass. Stay away from him. Text me when you’re done.
“Why didn’t you go with them?”
“I’m not a fan of heights.” I slipped the phone back into my mini-backpack. “Fear of falling, I guess.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “What if you fly?”
I chuckled. “Then I’d be a bird.”
“Is that why you wanted the raven?” He tilted his head toward the Milk Bottle Toss booth.
“Yeah. It’s kind of silly, but ravens are my favorite bird.”
“Why?”
“They have a really cool mythology and history, and they’re incredibly intelligent. They also have a strong social structure and mate for life. I just think they’re interesting.”
Like I think you’re interesting.
Cole stopped at the railing overlooking the harbor, resting his elbows on the salt-encrusted wood. I dug into my backpack for a roll of Lifesavers and unpeeled the wrapping. The top one was yellow, and I plucked it out. Beneath was a red one. I popped the pineapple candy into my mouth and extended the roll.
“Want one?”
He looked at the roll. “Aren’t the red ones your favorite?”
I blinked. “How did you know?”
r /> “You told me.” He shrugged, returning his attention to the harbor. “I saw you walking to school one day when you were…I don’t know. Twelve, maybe. A roll of Lifesavers fell out of your backpack. I picked it up and ran to catch up with you to give it back. You gave me a whole speech about how the red ones are cherry-flavored, and cherries were your favorite fruit and cherry blossoms your favorite flower. So every time you had a choice with candy or suckers or Chapstick, you picked cherry. Then you offered me the cherry Lifesaver as a thank you.”
A warm glow, like the sun spreading over the cove, filled my veins. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember a lot of things about you.”
We looked at each other again, and this time the multicolored carnival lights reflected in his irises. Like he had Ferris wheels spinning in his eyes. My heartbeat ratcheted up. As a kid, I’d been fascinated by him, but almost as if he were a movie star or an exotic animal. I could admire him while assuming he would never be interested in me.
Maybe I’d been wrong. I hoped I’d been wrong.
“What else do you remember about me?” My voice came out a bit breathless.
“Josie Mays.” He ticked items off on his long fingers. “You were a painter of animals. Rescuer of birds. Daughter of an artist and a historian-slash-mailman—”
“Postal carrier,” I corrected.
“Postal carrier. Owner of a bright red backpack with yellow daisies. Climber of trees. Favorite of teachers. Occasionally in need of rescuing.”
“That about sums me up.”
“I know.”
“Cole Danforth.” I ticked the items off on my fingers. “Explorer of the woods. Worker at the pier. Lover of maps. Secret hero of Josie Mays.”
I decided to leave out target of unfortunate gossip.
His eyes crinkled with faint amusement. “That about sums me up.”
“What am I missing?”
A cloud darkened his expression for an instant. “Swimmer of oceans and lakes.”
“You still swim?”
“Whenever I can.”
“Where? I never see you at the beach, and I know you’re not on the college swim team because my friend Harper’s boyfriend is the captain.”
“There’s a section of Eagle Canyon that’s hard to reach,” he said. “I found it back when I was a kid. I was running away from home. When it got too dark to walk, I spent the night in these old stone ruins. The next morning, I climbed a rocky slope and discovered an inlet where I could swim and be alone.”
My heart constricted. “Why were you running away from home?”
Before he could respond, my phone buzzed with a text from Lucy.
“My friends are done with the Ferris wheel, and they ditched the guys.” I slipped my phone back into my bag, disappointed at the thought of leaving him. “I should go back and meet up with them.”
He nodded. I wanted to believe a responding disappointment flared in his expression, but he’d always been a tough one to read.
I plucked the red Lifesaver from the roll and held it out in invitation. “Thanks again.”
He took the candy and slid it into his mouth, drawing my attention to the movement of his lips. A dusting of stubble coated his strong jaw. I wanted to rub my fingers against it, to see if it felt as sandpapery and delicious as it looked.
Longing gripped my chest. Aside from a couple of short-lived boyfriends, I hadn’t yet garnered a lot of experience with men. I’d certainly never experienced the same litany of feelings for another man as I had for Cole Danforth over the years.
I stepped back, hitching my backpack over my shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah.” He pushed away from the railing, his gaze on me. “Be careful out there, Josie.”
The sound of my name coming from his mouth, as if he were rolling it over his tongue like the cherry candy, elicited a low pulsing in my core.
Turning, I started to walk away. My desire intensified, darkening to the deep color of indigo. I stopped.
What if another year passed before I saw Cole again? What if I never saw him again? He was like a firefly, blinking bright in my life one minute and vanishing the next. I needed him to remember everything about me.
I faced him. My breath shortened. He stood by the railing watching me, his hands at his sides. The overhead dock-lamp glowed on his gold-streaked hair and carved his strong features into planes of shadows and light.
A flame lit beneath my heart. I might not have this chance ever again. I ran back to him and threw my arms around his neck. Our gazes crashed, hot and crackling. His eyes widened. I gripped the back of his neck, pulled him down to me, and pressed my lips against his.
Oh my God. Heat soared through me. My pulse raced, excitement ricocheting in my veins like a thousand pinballs, lights flashing, bells and whistles resounding.
Cole stiffened in shock. I drove my hands into his thick hair, deepening the kiss. Then resistance appeared to snap inside him, like a taut wire breaking. He brought his hands up to either side of my head, his grip strong and certain. The pressure of his mouth increased as he not only responded to my kiss, but took control.
He urged my lips apart with his, slipped his tongue into my mouth, tightened his hold on me with a sudden desperation that cemented my certainty and trust in him. The combined tastes of cherry and pineapple flooded me. He smelled like salt, the sun, the forest. My breasts crushed against his solid chest. His lower body pressed against mine, a distinct hardness in his jeans throbbing against my belly. Dizziness swept through my head. Oh, he was so warm and strong, his body heat inciting a fire in my blood.
At some purely primal level, I knew this was it, that whatever my future held in the way of romantic kisses, I would always compare them to this one.
No. I didn’t want to compare any other man’s kisses to Cole’s. I only wanted him.
I broke away, breathless and hot. He released me as if he’d just been burned by a stove. His chest heaved. Lust darkened his eyes. Sparks and electricity charged the air.
“Would you…” I swallowed to ease the dryness in my throat. “Would you like to have coffee sometime?”
A shutter descended over his expression, wiping out the desire. My heart began a slow drop to the pit of my stomach.
“I’m sorry, Josie.” He averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. “No.”
He turned and strode away, his shoulders stiff. Within seconds, he’d disappeared into the crowd and was gone.
Chapter 2
Cole
* * *
Josie Mays.
Flopping onto the bed, I closed my eyes and threw an arm over my face as if darkness could block her out.
Hah. She was only more vivid—straight dark hair falling past her shoulders, her goddamned perfect body in a Save the Bumblebee T-shirt and denim shorts. She’d always worn clothes that were just a little too big for her, but nothing could hide the tempting curves of her breasts, her round hips and ass, those long legs I’d give anything to open up.
Less than an hour after she’d blindsided me with a kiss that made the earth tilt, I was still hard. My dick throbbed against my thigh. I could still feel it pushing against Josie’s belly while she thrust her tongue into my mouth and gripped my hair. Fucking hell if my world hadn’t condensed to her—cherries, coconut sunscreen, impossibly soft body that molded against mine as if she’d been made for me.
Of course she had.
No. That thought couldn’t see the light of day. I shoved it back down deep. It slithered up again, taunting and cold.
You fucking fool. Josie’s had you wrapped around her little finger for over ten years, and now she has you so tangled up you’ll never find your way out.
Sweat trickled down my chest. With effort, I suppressed all the fantasies straining to break free. Josie spread naked on my bed, eyes wide and skin flushed pink, her tits bouncing with the force of my thrusts. Josie on top of me, little gasps coming from her throat, cl
awing her fingernails into my chest. Josie’s lips on my skin, her hand curving around my dick…
Stop.
Dragging in a breath, I swung my legs to the floor. The air was thick, the oscillating fan in the corner not doing much to cool the tiny room I rented above a boathouse. I pushed the single window open farther. Dock lights illuminated the boats clustered at the harbor, and in the distance, the carnival lights spun and twinkled at the pier.
I had to get out of here. Not just this room, but out of Castille altogether. One more year, and I would. Almost a dozen years here was long enough.
I’d been eleven when my asshole father moved his company to Castille. Iron Horse Brewery had been an immediate hit, and my father had become close friends with the mayor, Edward King, as well as the chief of police and lieutenants, the city council members, all of the prominent business owners.
He invited them for poker games, three-martini lunches, golf dates. He donated to their pet causes, sponsored school district fundraisers, supported their initiatives. He was in tight with them, and the town loved him for it.
Just one reason why they’d never investigated him. No one believed Kevin Danforth capable of holding a cigarette lighter close enough to his son’s eye to singe his lashes. Or putting a knife to his wife’s throat and threatening to kill her. Or locking them both in a closet and announcing he was going to set the house on fire. Or forcing his wife into an institution and driving her to suicide.
In that, he was smart. Often just short of being violent, there was never any physical evidence of abuse, even if anyone had bothered to investigate. No one had. Not a single person of authority—the police, social workers, child protective services—had done a damned thing. They’d refused to reconcile a boy’s allegations of an enraged father with the charismatic, successful Kevin Danforth of Iron Horse Brewery.