Page 17 of On the Fly
She was less than five steps down the hall when she heard his patient, I’m-such-a-nice-guy declaration. She pivoted around, fuming at him as he came around the corner. The big grin on his stupid face had her fisting her hands to keep from clawing his eyes out right there on the spot.
“What are you doing?” she hissed quietly. “They’re going to believe—”
Ander strode toward her with purpose, crowding her until she stepped back. One second she stood in the hall, the next she’d been pushed through a side door she hadn’t even known was there. A glance showed a large closet filled with cleaning supplies. He quickly shut the door, plunging them into complete darkness.
What was wrong with this man? She could see nothing as things poked her no matter which way she turned.
“What are you doing?”
“Hang on. There’s surely a light in here.”
“No, not this. What did you just doout there? This isn’t going to be funny to my family when I tell them the truth. They already hate me.” The light blinked on. She’d had no idea Ander stood so close, mere inches away, with one arm poised above her head, holding a string to the light. Emma managed to hold in her gasp but took a small retreating step away from that imposing presence. She stumbled on a broom and mop bucket, sending both clanking against the wall as she reached for anything to break her fall. Ander tried to stop the inevitable, she’d give him that, but the only thing she got her grasp on was a stack of paper towels, which offered her no salvation. When she landed on her butt inside the bucket, the paper towels thumping her on the head then landing on the floor around her, shock became the final straw and she burst into tears.
“Hey now.”
She heard movement but couldn’t see anything with her hands over her face and the floodgates opened wide. This was all too much. Her tears fell as she dug her fingers into her eyes. From getting on that airplane all the way to falling into this bucket and everything in between… All the ups and downs were too much. She had just wanted to change her clothes before dinner. Why had that been such a difficult request?
“Here, take these.”
“I don’t like you,” she said, burying her face on her knees, crying.
Tissues were pushed between her hands and face. “Calm down. It’s all okay.”
“It’s not okay at all. And don’t you know anything? The wordscalm downhave the direct opposite effect.” She wiped her face with the tissues. Ander only chuckled at her sharply given critique of his comforting skills. He caressed up and down her back, in a weirdly soothing manner for someone she was now determined to despise.
“It is going to be okay.”
She dabbed her eyes and refused to look at him as she shuddered in a breath, trying to stop the tears. This was just too much. “Why would you have said you’re my date? How am I going to tell them the truth?”
Ander squatted next to her, now at eye level, and handed her more tissues. “Why tell them the truth?”
“Because they’re going to wonder why my ‘boyfriend’ showed up unannounced and then was never seen again.” Defeat on a level she didn’t know existed had her dropping her hands to her lap, resting her forehead on her knees, accepting her fate in life was being stuck in a wash bucket. Her stepmother would never let her live this down. “Why are you even here? Are you stalking me?’
“No.” He lifted her chin with his hand, but when he let go, she dropped back down to hide her face on her knees. When he tried again, he kept her face upright with a finger under her chin. Then he used his other hand to brush at the misplaced pieces of hair that had fallen forward when she’d landed so unceremoniously into the dirty bucket. She tried to push out, but flopped back down, giving up. “This is my home.”
“I know your family owns Whispering Winds. It’s why we’re here—I get the discount—but why areyouhere?” she asked again. Her eyes narrowed at his sudden scathing scowl. At least she knew this look well enough. He had it quite a bit and it somehow helped relieve this hopelessness creeping over her.
“What does that mean? The part about the discount,” he asked, dropping both hands from her face and placing them on his knees.
“As an employee, I get a twenty percent discount on the venue. My stepmother wanted my discount,” she said. “So here we are.”
Ander darted up to his full height, knocking another roll of paper towels from a shelf which then bounced off her head and landed on the floor with the others. The kind, gentle man he’d been moments ago was gone as he propped his hands on his hips.
“You get a discount by having the wedding here? Are you serious?”
“Focus!” she insisted then used the tissues to blow her nose in a loud, seriously unladylike manner, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Why’re you here tonight?”
“This is my childhood home. I came to have dinner with my mother.” Ander raked his fingers through his hair. He looked agitated as hell and she wasn’t entirely certain why. “I didn’t even know she’d done this with the place.”
“You grew up here?” Emma extended her toes as far as she could and anchored her hands on the side of the bucket, trying to lift herself up. But she collapsed back down again, stuck good and tight.
“Here, let me help you.” After a few failed attempts, Ander finally had to lift her underneath the arms, leaving her no choice but to encircle his neck with her arms. Her forehead rested on his shoulder, and she breathed in the spicy scent of his cologne. No one would call this an official hug, but the last few days had been horrible, and she’d take what she could get. She wanted to burrow in and savor him. “You could help.”
“I could, but why?” When she was finally back on her feet, she tightened her hold around his neck. Even though he stayed bent over, she had to stand on her tiptoes to maintain her grip. Being hidden in the closet, for no one to see, she gave herself the minute she needed to regroup. Though Ander hesitated a moment, he stayed where he was, giving her easy access to his neck. And she did something she’d surely kick herself for later: she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath of his intoxicating scent. Her heart settled as his arms loosely held her around the waist.
The weird moment lasted far longer than it should have, but much shorter than she’d wanted it to as she drew in a final deep breath of his soul-satisfying aroma. She wondered idly which cologne he wore. Maybe she’d buy some. She’d have to spray it on her pillowcase because she certainly didn’t have a man to share it with.
“I drank quite a bit at the winery. My feet hurt. I’m sure that’s why I got so emotional.”
