Every Little Dream (Second Chances) (7 page)

Slowly, I get to my feet, refusing to show the pain or rub my arms, which tingle back to life. He says nothing. Waiting for me to ask. I suck it up. For her.
 

“I’m ready to accept your offer. See where it goes. But if you let anyone lay a fucking hand on her, I’ll kill you myself.”

A second later, I’m back on the floor. My chest hits hard enough that my breath gasps out. I can’t fight it again. This time I know he won’t let me up. Pressure builds behind my eyes. I refuse to show weakness in front of him.

“I thought you’d see reason in your life.”

What he means to say is that I’d see life his way. I still struggle to find my breath.

He clears his throat and moves behind his desk. “Your decision to intern with this law office comes at a most opportune time. I’m in the middle of a case that needs a light touch. That needs someone with your qualifications.”

Understanding sinks in. It’s no coincidence that he put the squeeze on me and used money to do it. He had me in mind for this job the whole time. It was never about me. But always about him. What he wants. What he needs. A small part of me dies, gives up. And a tiny voice whispers that that will never change. He’ll never change.

He doesn’t let me up. But the guy loosens his vice-like grip. Probably because he feels bad for me. My father states the facts. What he needs me to do. Where he needs me to go. That I’m to stay away from the office. We’re only to communicate through texts, which will be immediately deleted. That my living situation is taken care of. That he paid off Jimmy so nothing will look suspicious if I suddenly moved to my father’s home.

“Is everything understood, Chadwick?”
 

The grip loosens again. This time, my father helps me to my feet. He straightens my sleeves and brushes the lint from the front of my coat. “Make me proud, son.”
 

I’m at the entrance, about to leave his office, wondering why the hell I signed up for this. All it takes is remembering Katie’s innocent smile and the joy that shines from her eyes to know why. For some reason this same guy I need to tail has noticed Katie.

“And don’t worry about your little girlfriend. She’ll be safe.”

I leave the office, barely holding back my fury. I drive through the streets, pushing the speed limits, rounding corners so low to the ground my knees skim the pavement. When the rage fades, I find myself back near the ocean, back near the Inn and Katie. I just need to see her, make sure she’s okay and accept her proposition. It’s the only way to know she’s safe.

I park down the street and walk toward the Inn. She’ll probably never want to see me again after this morning. And she shouldn’t. From the side, I stare through the glass into the restaurant. It’s packed. I recognize the one girl who’s doing about fifty jobs at the same time. But I don’t see any flashes of blonde hair. I don’t see my angel.
 

The waitress looks right at me. Shit. I walk away.

“Hey!” I slow and turn back. “Are you Katie’s friend?” she asks, her head poked out the front door.

“Yeah.” Suddenly I feel ashamed, unworthy of Katie.

The waitress points to the back of the restaurant and the swinging doors that must lead to the kitchen. “Stairs on the right, first bedroom on the left. You’re welcome.” She holds the door, waiting for me to accept her invitation.

Chapter 5

Katie

I sit in my room, absolutely flabbergasted. The stacks of money are more than I’ve ever seen in one spot in my life. I flip through the bills, and not tens or twenties. It must be close to one hundred big ones. These guys were serious. All they want me to do is stick with Chad? Encourage him to finish his internship? There must be more to it.

Someone knocks on the door.
 

The green stacks of money, piled high and falling over, make it look like I robbed a bank. Hot prickles stab at my face. “Who is it?” I croak.

“It’s Chad.”

What? “What do you want?”

“What do you think?”

I rack my brain. “Um…you’re making sure I’m okay?” I remember he mentioned stopping by later. I just didn’t think he’d follow through and actually stop by, especially now. Talk about bad timing.
 

“I’m here to take you up on your offer. Excitement for you and a dose of goodness for me? Remember?”
 

The knob turns. “Hold on!” In a panic, I shove the money under my pillow, but there’s too much. Green edges stick out all over. “I’m, uh, I’m naked!”

I blush despite the fact that I’m not naked and he’s not in the room. In a rush, I scatter clothes on the floor like I was trying to find an outfit, then I shove the money back into the envelope and stick that in my beach bag. And the beach bag goes deep into my closet.

Breathless, I smooth down my hair, my hand on the knob. I’ve never felt like such a fraud. I never keep secrets from people and when I do, people I know can see right through me and I end up blabbing in about three seconds. I open the door, say hi and grab his arm to lead him down the stairs.

He pulls back, peering in my room as if trying to catch a glimpse of something, some part of me. “Did you want to hang out for a bit?”

“Definitely not. I’m ready for some excitement.” The words are so ironic, because Chad does bring excitement to my life. I’m just not sure it’s the kind I want.

Outside, I can breathe a little easier. The farther away I am from the money, the better I feel, the easier it is to forget about it. Almost. I take time to soak Chad in. His dark gray T-shirt is snug against his chest, revealing his biceps. He’s not so built he looks like a wrestler but he’s no weakling either. Muscles are definitely there. I try to keep my gaze away from his mouth, because I can’t have my imagination putting me in a perpetual blush. “So, where we headed?”

“What?” He turns with surprise. “I thought you were planning the date first?”
 

“Um.” Is he serious? Was I so distracted that I can’t even think straight anymore? “Sure. We can…”

He bumps me with his hip, smiling. “Kidding.”

“You jerk.” I punch his chest and start beating on him. Not very hard though.

“Oh, you like it rough, huh?” In one swoop, he grabs my legs. Scooping me up, he hangs me over his shoulder. Then he starts spinning.

The colors around me blur. I squeal. “Okay, okay.” He doesn’t stop. “I’ll get sick!”
 

He stops twirling and allows me to slide down the front of his body. A thrill runs through my insides, the contact igniting the desire to do more than just look at his lips. We’re standing close. I can’t help but touch the light stubble on his cheeks. His blue eyes peer from under his lashes. I fight the impulse to kiss him when really that’s all I’ve wanted to do since I kissed him that first time.

“Is that the kind of excitement you want?” he whispers.

“A little.” I flick my hair over my shoulder. “I just might surprise you.”

He grows serious, his eyes on my mouth, his arms around me. “I hope so.”
 

We stand, silent, caught up in the moment. He’s the first to break away. “Alright, milady.” He holds out an arm. “One night of pure, clean excitement coming up.”

I can’t help but feel disappointed but I should know better. Having Chad as a friend and getting out of my room is more than I could’ve hoped for, especially after the cruddy way our relationship started. “Where we going?”

He shakes his head and laughs. “Secrets and surprises are all a part of excitement. You can’t have it both ways.”

“Then lead on!”
 

Instead of heading to his bike, he walks down the boardwalk. We weave around a mix of people: tourists who spent the day at the beach and regulars who are here to hang out as evening draws close. Maybe there’s a concert tonight. The tantalizing smells of fried dough and pizza drift in the air, along with traces of cigarette smoke.
 

He stops at the arcade, along with the families with younger kids pouring in, then pulls out a pile of change from his pocket. A devilish grin crosses his face causing my stomach to do a little dance.
 

“Did you know that no one can beat me at Skee Ball?” he asks with a hint of a challenge.

“No one?” I blink my eyes innocently.

“That’s right.”

“You’re on.”

We pass through the thickening crowds. We pay for the coins then start playing. He’s right. He’s unbeatable and wins ten games out of ten. I’m not sure how he does it but he hits the high numbers with almost every ball.
 

“Alright, I need a chance! You’re hurting my self-esteem. You’re going to leave me wallowing by the end of night in my lack of Skee Ball talent.”
 

He wraps his arm around me. “How about some fried dough. You can add cinnamon and powdered sugar because I bet you’re the type of person who just goes for the powder.” The look on my face must give away that he’s right though it could’ve been a lucky guess.
 

“Wow. Now that’s excitement.” I see what he’s doing. This is honest, real fun, possibly something a small town girl like me had never experienced, but what he doesn’t realize is that I grew up in the Midwest where the nearest city was an hour away. The local arcade was a big favorite. “Then let’s play the car race games. I’ve always wanted to play that one.”

He winks. “Are you sure your ego can handle losing again?”
 

“Oh, I think so.” We leave the arcade and buy fried dough. I follow his advice and sprinkle on cinnamon and powdered sugar in small amounts.
 

“Okay. That is not excitement,” he comments after dumping cinnamon and sugar on his and then on mine too.

“It is for me, because as you say, I’m just a powdered sugar kind of girl.” I take a bite and notice the sugar below his lip. I fight the urge to lick it off.

We find a bench across the street. The crowd chatters around us and the silence between us is comfortable, except with the lack of distraction, I can’t help but think about the beach bag in my closet and the man’s words to me.

“So Chad, where do you work?” I ask, innocently.

“Tattoo shop.” Two seconds later, he smiles. “Kidding, but that’s probably what you were thinking. Right?”

“No.” I smile back. “But it would go with the whole biker thing.”
 

A shadow crosses his face and the natural shine in his eyes fades. “I work for my dad’s law office.”
 

“What do you do?”

Concern or worry is etched in the lines on his forehead but he quickly masks it. “You know, menial stuff like filing.”

“Will that get too boring?” Maybe that’s why they need my help, because they think he’ll quit the job from boredom.
 

“Definitely.” He confirms my fears.

“Just think about the future though. Maybe you can work for your father and eventually be a lawyer.” I hate out fake and forced the words sound coming out of my mouth.
 

He raises any eyebrow. “Now you sound like my father. Is he paying you or something?”

I laugh, a little too loud and a little too fake, but never answer because saying the words out loud and actually lying to him would feel worse. I recover fast. “Race you back to the arcade?”

“What?”
 

“That’s right. You heard me.”

“Aren’t we a little old to race?”
 

Obviously he needs some motivation. “Afraid to lose to a girl?” I dab his nose with the last piece of my dough that has a big blob of melting sugar and then take off sprinting.

“That’s right you better run.” His footsteps echo on the pavement behind me.
 

I giggle and run through the crowd, apologizing every time I bump into someone. I remember that he still has half his fried dough left, and I sprint into the arcade. The number of people has grown, waiting in lines, laughing, talking. I have a stitch in my side and lean against the back of a Pac Man machine to catch my breath.
 

Someone taps my shoulder.

I scream and turn, but see no one. People give me a strange look. I peek around the corner. The coast is clear. Time to make a break for it. As soon as I step away, strong arms grip around my waist.

“Gotcha!” He picks me up again and tries to carry me out. I fight but don’t have much strength as the laughter takes over. “Time for some sweet revenge, sweetheart.”
 

I squeal and kick my arms and legs. He stumbles and has to put me down. I try and run, but he drops me gently to the cement in the middle of the sidewalk. “What’re you doing? We’re in public.”

“Don’t worry.” He straddles me while I kick and punch him, laughing. I hit his arm and his fried dough goes back into his own face. I laugh and can’t stop.

“I was going to go easy on you but not anymore.” He smears the last of it across my cheek, forehead and lips. I fight him the whole time. To top it off, he dabs my nose.
 

“Perfect. A masterpiece.” He climbs off me. The people have stopped their gaming and are watching. A security guard stands nearby and continues to eye us until we scoot away with handfuls of napkins.
 

As soon as we’re back on the boardwalk, I say, “Okay, okay, you win.”

He struts, showing his swagger. “That’s right. I always win.”
 

Little does he know me. I might be a good girl but I like to win too. I walk my fingers up his back and trace the skin on the back of his neck. He turns. As soon as he does I push up against him and wipe my face on his. The globs of sugar smear across his face too.

We laugh. I follow it up with a napkin when really I want to kiss it off. Somehow I think that might be a little kinky for the boardwalk, or anywhere for that matter. This will be a fantasy late at night, in bed, alone, where no one can see the blush on my face.

“Hey, you played dirty.”

I shrug innocently. “All is fair in love and war.”

He quiets. My words seem to have unsettled him. I wipe off the last from his chin. “Want to go back to my place and clean up?”