Beyond the Waves (Pacific Shores Book 1) (3 page)

She shut her eyes, pressed her lips together, and spun back to the window. After a moment, she gave one nod. For a moment silence stretched, then she glanced over her shoulder and looked him in the eye. “I forgive you, Kylen.”

He blinked slowly, forcing himself to breathe normally even as his heart soared.

Her gaze fixed once more on the scene outside the window as she continued. “I’ve known for a long time that I needed to find you and tell you, but I always put it off. You weren’t entirely to blame. I was in the wrong, too. I could have made more of an effort to be your friend, and that night—”

“Taysia, don’t.”

She nodded. “Some things are better left in the past. How does that verse go? We forget what is behind and press on toward our goal, right?”

“And thank God for His grace and mercy.”

“Yes,” she whispered in a choked voice, blinking back tears.

The room was silent for several moments as he waited for her to compose herself. He moved so he could at least see the side of her face.

Forcing a professional tone, Kylen said, “So back to this lawsuit business. Do you have time to talk this over with me tonight?” A blush heated her cheek, and he eyed her speculatively.

She didn’t answer right away, but when he continued to wait silently, she said, “No…I’m going to Blaine Pittman’s for dinner.”

Kylen’s jaw hardened. “Blaine Pittman? Isn’t he a little young for you?”

She snorted. “He was only a year behind us, Kylen.” Shrugging, she lifted her chin. “Anyhow, I don’t see how Blaine is any concern of yours.”

His fists clenched as he shoved them into his pockets. His voice dropped to just above a whisper. “I came home for a reason, Layne.”

She turned and met his gaze then, a question on her face.

“I came home because I’m in love with you.”

A small strangled sound escaped her throat as she collapsed back against the windowsill.

Chapter 2

Marie Sinclair swallowed as she eyed the group of women before her. Taysia had never entrusted her with teaching a class before. But if she were honest, her nervousness didn’t stem from the fact that this would be her first time teaching. She’d sat in on enough of these and helped Taysia demonstrate the stretches and exercises enough to know the routine down pat.

“If I can have your attention, please?” She gulped. Hopefully no one had detected the quaver in her voice.

As she waited for the class to quiet, she rubbed her thumb over the laminated sheet of verses from Psalm 139 that Taysia read before each of her classes. She could almost say them from memory now she’d heard them so many times.

When all eyes were on her, she continued. “Miss Green has had something come up and has asked me to lead the class for her.” She offered the women a grin. “So what do you say we make this short and sweet and get you all on your way a little early today, huh? You all deserve a break!”

Several of the women cheered, and Marie gave a little bow in response. “First let me open with the psalm.” Her hand trembled as she glanced down at the words on the page. She gritted her teeth and firmed her grip. This was all Reece’s fault. If only he hadn’t—no. None of this was his fault. She smoothed one hand down the front of her T-shirt and took a quick, calming breath, then forced the words past the constriction in her throat. “From Psalm 139, verses thirteen to sixteen. ‘For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.’”

She looked up. Several of the women in the class had placed hands over their abdomens as though already cradling the children they longed for.

Cassie Graham in the front row had tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. “Isn’t it wonderful to know God had plans for each of us even before we came into being?”

Marie tapped the edge of the plastic against the podium and nodded with as much of a smile as she could muster.

Hold it together, Marie. You don’t know anything yet, for sure. Just hold it together
.

Taysia fled, quite literally, leaving Kylen standing in her office with a bewildered-puppy-dog expression. She hated herself for her cowardice, but she couldn’t stand the pressure for even one more second.

She dashed past the classroom and into the lobby, darting glances over her shoulder like an escapee from a mugging.

Marie must have seen her through the window in the door, because she poked her head out of the classroom. Taysia could hear the cooldown music already playing. The clients knew the last part of that routine well enough by now to handle it on their own. She waved a frantic gesture at Marie. “Come here and don’t let him find me!”

Marie cocked her head and scrutinized her.

Pressing a finger to her lips, Taysia lunged behind the front desk and jerked open the janitor’s closet. The cleaning cart sat right there, the big yellow bucket full of damp mop leaving no room for her. She spun back to face the counter, her eyes flitting to the cubby underneath Marie’s desk. Too small. Kylen was headed this way—she could see him exiting her office on the security monitor.

Panic swelled in her chest. She was crazy to even be thinking of hiding from him. Much less in a closet! But Kylen had already broken her heart twice. She wasn’t about to let him do it a third time! And facing him after his crazy admission held about as much appeal as drizzling lemon juice over an open wound.

There was nowhere else to go. She would just have to squeeze in. She stepped into the big yellow bucket, balancing precariously on the damp, squishy mop. Marie’s wide eyes were the last thing she saw before the door swung shut on its automatic hinge. Total darkness and the smell of musty mop and ammonia engulfed her.

She groaned softly and pressed her forehead to the door.
Oh Lord, why now?
Blaine and I are just starting to date, and he’s a really great, trustworthy guy. So, why did Kylen have to show up today? I just can’t deal with this, especially not on top of the situation with Daddy.

She laid her ear against the door and heard the soft squeak of Marie’s chair as she apparently sank into it.

Taysia held her breath.

She could hear Kylen’s footsteps now.

“Marie, is it?”

Taysia lifted her head and held her breath. Marie might just get some foolish romantic notion in her head and tell him she was in the closet.

“Yes, Officer. Can I help you?” Innocence dripped from Marie’s words.

Taysia sighed in relief.

“Can you give Taysia a message for me? You’ll see her again today, right?”

“Oh yes, I’m sure I’ll see her. Miss Green never mops around.
Mopes!
She never mopes around. She’ll get over your little lover’s spat and be back to work just in time for her next class, I’m sure.”

Taysia gritted her teeth.
Lover’s spat, my eye
.

Kylen’s voice was serious. “Tell her, I meant what I said.”

Taysia tensed, and the cart under her mop bucket rolled back and bumped into the wall. Jerking her arms wide to catch her balance, she smacked some cans on the shelf next to her. The cans clattered to the floor.

“What was that?” Kylen exclaimed.

Great!
Taysia winced and grunted in pain, clutching her hand. The cart began a full-blown jitterbug, and she reached for the solid steadiness of the door just as it jerked open.

“Oh!”

Kylen, Marie right behind him, stared wide-eyed, jaw slack.

Flapping her arms desperately trying to regain her balance, Taysia searched frantically for anything to grab onto but the broad expanse of Kylen’s shoulders. She lurched for the lintel, but as her weight pitched forward, the cart jostled backward and her hands missed the mark.

“Ah!”

Her shins scraped painfully across the top of the mop bucket, and she landed like a gangly giraffe in Kylen’s arms. He grunted and stepped back into Marie, who squawked like a startled duck. All three of them landed in a tangled sandwich on the floor.

The mop fell out of the bucket and
thonk
ed Taysia on the head with a resounding crack. “Ow!”

Kylen rolled up onto one elbow, kicking away the mop and pushing Taysia over onto her back. “Are you okay?”

Taysia nodded with gritted teeth, refusing to let the groan trapped in her throat escape. Her right shin felt like a cat had mistaken it for a scratching post. A big cat!

Behind Kylen, Marie snipped, “I’m fine, Officer. Don’t you worry about me, now. You’re just
lying on my legs
!”

Kylen’s eyes widened and he scrambled to his feet. “Sorry, Marie. Here.” He reached down to help her up.

Taysia took advantage of his distraction to hobble to her feet. Blood dripped down her right leg. It was her own fault. How did she get herself into these situations? She bent to examine the wound.

“Taysia Layne Green, you are the craziest woman I’ve ever met!”

Taysia didn’t reply. What was there to say? Kylen and her blithering-idiot alter ego had been well acquainted from the day his parents had moved in next door. She sighed and limped toward her office to find a Band-Aid. Or ten.

Kylen started to follow, and she stopped dead in her tracks. “Don’t!” She couldn’t look him in the eye. “Just…” She gestured him toward the outside doors and promptly turned in the direction of her office. As she hobbled down the hall, her mind skimmed back over the years to a long-ago day just before her freshman year…

It had been a beautiful, sunny day when she noticed the new family moving in next door.

Taysia had walked down her drive until she stood beneath the shade of the old weeping willow tree. She decided to stretch out before her run under its sheltering branches so she could openly watch the new neighbors as they unpacked their moving van. The hanging boughs obscured her nosy gawking a little, as did her sunglasses.

Leaning one arm against the trunk, she pulled one foot up toward her bottom, stretching out her right quad. She balanced precariously for a moment to push her sunglasses up on her nose.

Hmmm, they have some nice things, these people. Must have money. Why, that sideboard alone costs more than all the furniture in our house put together
. That would explain why they were moving into the old Johnston mansion next door.

Taysia glanced back down the drive at their own house—a little two-bedroom that Mom had painted a very soft blue. They had eaten hot dogs and chili for months afterward because the painter had charged them an outlandish amount, but it had been worth it. Mom loved the way the blue set off the exquisite red of her prized rosebushes. Taysia smiled. She liked it too. They had a nice home, even though it was small. She looked again to the newcomers as she stretched out her left quad. Her parents’ house was very small, indeed, compared to the place next door. In fact, in a bygone era, the little blue house—and the roses—had belonged to the gardener of the Johnston mansion.

Yes, whoever was moving into the mansion had plenty of money. Besides the movers there was a man and his wife, but no kids.

She sighed. It had been too much to hope for. It would have been nice if they’d had a daughter her age. But it didn’t matter, because if they did have a daughter, she would have money, which in Marinville meant she would be popular, and therefore, definitely
not
in the same group of friends as chubby Taysia Layne Green.

Oh well, she was working on the chubby part, at least. She had dropped fifty pounds since this time last year.

She turned to jog toward the beach and collided with a firm, somewhat lanky form. She let loose a surprised squawk even as she bounced back like a tennis ball and fell onto her backside. Her sunglasses tumbled off and landed in the grass a few feet away.

He was the best-looking boy she had ever seen.

“Why are you staring at us?” the boy asked.

Mouth dry, Taysia gawked at him in dumbfounded silence. He had black, curly hair and eyes as dark as a moonless midnight. A diamond stud winked at her from the lobe of one ear, drawing her attention to his high, angular cheekbones. He wore designer shorts, and his dirt-smudged polo hung from his shoulders with kingly grace.
Definitely popular!
And he had spoken to her! Her mouth was no longer just dry. It was parched. Like a sea sponge in the middle of a desert during a drought. She continued to gawk, her mouth hanging open.

She stared at him for so long he finally gasped, “Oh, you can’t see! I’m sorry. Here!” He plucked her dark glasses from where they’d landed and placed them carefully into her hands. “And here I thought—”

She blinked and refocused on his face, unable to help herself.

He frowned at her. “You can see!” he accused. “What are you looking at?” He brushed at the corners of his mouth as though searching for stuck-on food. When she still made no reply, he reached a hand down to her with a puzzled expression. “Here, let me help you up. Did I hurt you?”