20. Melanie
CHAPTER 20
Melanie
The shrieks of child happiness on a sunny day were soothing to my soul. And the crunchy dill pickle, while not exactly healing the previous night’s wounds, was delicious. There were worse ways to spend a Saturday.
I’d met Nathan, Sharla, and the kids at Lumberjack Park so the small humans could run around and play. Sharla had packed a picnic, complete with a red-and-white-checked tablecloth that we’d spread out on one of the tables near the play equipment. The pickles were my contribution, although I was probably the only one who’d eat them.
A group of squirrels ran by, their bushy tails streaming behind them. One stopped and looked at me.
“Don’t even think about it, tiny mammal,” I said. “You’re not getting my pickles.”
The squirrel scampered off, following its friends. A second later, a man with a wide-brimmed brown hat and shaggy beard wandered by, looking as if he’d lost something.
“Hi, Harvey,” Sharla said. “Is everything all right?”
He turned around, blinking. “Have you seen them?”
“Seen who?” she asked.
“My friends. ”
“Um… are your friends squirrels?”
He grinned at her. “That’s them!”
She pointed. “They went that way.”
Tipping his hat, he gave her an awkward bow. “Thank you, kindly.”
He kept walking, still looking lost.
“Was that Harvey Johnston?” I asked. “He’s still around?”
“Where else would he be?” Sharla asked.
“Tilikum is so charming,” I said, and I meant it. “Why did I ever leave?”
“College. Dreams of stardom.”
“I didn’t really want stardom. I know, that’s surprising. A drama queen like me obviously wanted to be famous. But I didn’t.”
“Then why did you leave?” Sharla asked, her voice gentle.
I didn’t really want to answer that question because I had a feeling it had a lot to do with running. Glancing away, I adjusted my sunglasses against the brightness of the sun and took a bite of my pickle.
“That’s disgusting.” Nathan sat across the table from me.
“Don’t mess with me. This is my emotional support pickle.”
Sharla laughed. “Why do you need an emotional support pickle?”
“I got dumped last night. To be fair, I was going to dump him anyway. And I mean that. I’m not just trying to save face.”
“Sure,” Nathan said.
Sharla nudged him with her elbow. “Be nice.”
“Sorry. I have years of sibling trash talk to make up for.”
“It’s only fair,” I agreed, gesturing with my half-eaten pickle. “I’m the one who was gone so much.”
“You two are so weird,” Sharla said. “Anyway, you were going to dump him, but he dumped you first. Wait, who is this guy? ”
“Hank. Mom introduced us at the pizza tasting. Which is to say, she invited him with the express purpose of shoving us together and probably already has a mother-of-the-bride dress picked out.”
“Sounds about right,” Sharla said.
“Anyway,” I said, still gesturing with my pickle. “Hank was fine. Nice guy and everything. But he obviously couldn’t handle all this.”
“Takes a brave man,” Nathan said.
Sharla and I ignored him. Lucia ran up to her mom with a juice box and Sharla helped her with the straw.
“So that didn’t work out,” I said. “Which is fine. I’m not desperate.”
“Of course you’re not,” Sharla said. “And I’m proud of you for giving it a shot, even though it didn’t turn into anything.”
“Thanks. It would have been nice if I’d been the one giving the it’s not you, it’s me speech. Especially because he gave me the, it’s definitely you speech.”
“Ouch.” Sharla’s tone was sympathetic. Zola came over with her juice box and flushed cheeks. Without missing a beat, Sharla helped her with her straw. “What a jerk. Can I hate him? I think I want to hate him.”
“How about we disdain him,” I said. “Hate seems a bit dramatic, even for me.”
“I can live with disdain.”
A few more kids ran to the playground—a little boy of about four, two girls, and a bigger boy who was clearly the older brother.
“Will, don’t run up the slide when other kids are going down,” the older boy said. “Emma and Juliet, you have to stay on the playground.”
Sharla waved. “Hi, Thomas.”
The kid waved back. “Hi, Mrs. Andolini.”
“Are your mom and dad here? ”
“Yeah, they’re bringing our lunch from the car.”
A moment later, Annika and her husband, Levi, walked across the grass. Levi pulled a wagon with a cooler, and they stopped at the picnic table next to ours. The kids were already running around the playground together.
We all said our hellos while Annika and Levi unpacked their lunch. Annika kept a close eye on the kids, especially her youngest.
“Are you going to the bachelor auction?” Sharla asked.
I looked at her over the top of my sunglasses. “Are you asking me?”
“Yes, you. Nathan and I are going to show our support, but obviously not to bid in the man auction.”
“Why would I go to a man auction?”
She shrugged. “For fun.”
“It’s for a good cause,” Annika said. “The SPS is building their headquarters.”
“What’s the SPS?” I asked.
“The Squirrel Protection Squad,” Sharla said, her forehead creasing as if I’d asked a dumb question.
“What is the Squirrel Protection Squad?” I asked. “Never mind. I didn’t think Tilikum could get weirder, but there you have it. But why do the squirrels need protecting?”
“They’re really more of a grassroots civilian security team,” Sharla said. “They’ve done a lot of good for the community.”
“And they’re going to auction off single men to raise money? How is that legal?”
Sharla laughed. “It’s not like that. You know how these things are. Just all in good fun. You get an evening with a bachelor. It’s not a romantic thing. Most people will probably have them do yard work or chop wood and stuff.”
“Well, that’s good at least. But no. After getting dumped, the last thing I need is to be seen paying a guy to go out with me. Even if it is for a good cause. And I don’t need anyone to chop wood.”
“A bunch of the single guys from the firehouse will be up for grabs,” Annika said. “A couple of the newer deputies who work with my brother, Garrett, too.”
“Men in uniform will go for a premium,” I said. “The SPS will be building their headquarters in no time.”
Annika pulled her phone out of her purse. “Hey, Theo.”
The look of surprise that immediately crossed her features got my attention. Something seemed wrong.
“Oh my god, is he okay?” she asked.
My eyes widened. They were talking about Luke. I didn’t know how I knew, but I did. A sick feeling spread through my stomach.
“Are you sure?” Annika asked. “That’s so scary. I’m glad he was able to reach you.” She paused again, listening. “Okay. I’ll do that. Thanks for letting me know.”
My heart started to race, and she’d barely ended the call before I blurted out, “What happened?”
“Luke was in an accident last night.”
I stood, my pickle falling to the ground, forgotten. “What? Where? Is he okay?”
“He’s hurt, but nothing life threatening. It sounds like bruised ribs is the worst of it. Theo picked him up from the hospital and took him home early this morning.”
Without thinking about what I was doing, I grabbed my purse. “I have to go.”
“Where?” Sharla asked.
“Luke’s.”
Sharla glanced at Annika, then back at me.
“I just need to make sure he’s all right,” I said, trying to hide the worry in my voice. “See if he needs anything. Don’t look at me like that. It’s a totally normal thing to do.”
“I wasn’t looking at you like anything,” Sharla said.
“Good.” I started toward the street where I’d parked, but stopped in my tracks and turned around. “I don’t know where he lives.”
Annika was watching me with raised eyebrows, as if she had no idea what to think. I didn’t blame her. I didn’t know what I was doing either.
“I’ll text you his address,” she said.
“Perfect.” I spun around and resisted the urge to run to my car.
What was I doing? I didn’t need to rush to Luke’s house just because he got hurt. If it were serious, he had his whole big family to help. He didn’t need me.
But the words Luke was in an accident last night reverberated through my mind, bringing with them a sick terror. The urgency to see him with my own eyes—make sure he was really okay—was impossible to resist.
And if he really was all right? I was going to throttle him.
By the time I got in my car, Annika had texted me his address. It was only about ten minutes from the park. With a lump of worry in my throat, I drove to his house and parked.
Luke’s house was exactly what I would have imagined if I’d been thinking clearly on the drive over. It was set back from the road, down a gravel driveway, and surrounded by pine trees. In the clearing was a two-story building, and it looked like the bottom was nothing but a four-car garage. Windows upstairs indicated an apartment or living space, and a stairway on one side led up to a door.
Of course Luke’s house was more garage than home. That totally fit.
There weren’t any cars parked out front, but that didn’t surprise me either. He was pretty meticulous about his vehicles. And the garage was huge.
Without pausing to ask myself what on earth I was doing there, I went up the stairs. The landing extended across the entire side of the building and wrapped around to a deck on the back. I took a quick breath and knocked .
“Luke, it’s me,” I said through the door. “Don’t get up. I’m just going to see if it’s unlocked and poke my head in to make sure you’re all right.”
I tried the knob. It turned, and I eased it open a few inches.
“Luke? Are you okay?”
“What are you doing here?”
Worry burst through me like a firecracker at the hoarse sound of his voice. I flung the door the rest of the way open. “What happened? How bad is it?”
He lay on the couch, covered with a blanket, except for one leg sticking out. His face was pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes.
“I’m fine. Why are you here?”
That was an excellent question. Why was I there? “I heard you were in an accident.”
“Heard from who?”
“Annika. We were at the park, and she got a call from Theo, and he said you were in an accident last night and are mostly okay except bruised ribs and I’m realizing as I say that I didn’t need to rush over here and I look like an idiot right now.”
He chuckled a little, then clutched his side. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
“I wasn’t trying to make you laugh.”
“I know. Can you just shut the door?”
Instead of stepping through it, saying goodbye, and closing it on my way out—which would have been the reasonable thing to do—I stayed inside and shut it.
The living area was bare—total bachelor pad. He had a couch and an armchair facing a TV on the wall. The coffee table had a water bottle sitting on it and not much else. At the back was a kitchen, and at a glance, it looked clean. A large sliding glass door led to the deck I’d seen on my way in, and the view of the forest with the mountains rising in the background was gorgeous.
“Since I’m here, do you need anything?” I asked.
“No. I should probably eat something eventually, but the thought of food makes me want to puke right now.”
I walked over to the armchair and lowered myself down. “What happened?”
“I wrecked my car.”
“The Chevelle?”
“No, one of my other ones.”
“Dare I ask how?”
He closed his eyes for a second. “Racing.”
“Racing, where? Out at that track that closed? They still do that?”
“Yeah.”
My lips parted, and for a second, I wasn’t sure what to say. He’d started racing when we were in high school, and it had always been a sore spot for us. We’d had more fights about it than I could count.
But strangely—especially for me, because I was rarely one to shy away from an argument—my gut reaction wasn’t anger. I had no desire to tell him how stupid it was or give him an I-always-told-you-so speech.
Only one question came to mind. “Why?”
He seemed as surprised as I was. His eyes cracked open, and he moved his head to look at me. “Why?”
I nodded, and my voice was uncharacteristically soft. “Why would you be out there racing?”
He blew out a long breath. “I don’t know.”
“And why didn’t you call me?”
“Why would I call you?”
I huffed. “I don’t know. But you should have called me. I could have picked you up or brought you soup or gotten you ice packs or something.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. “Melanie Andolini, were you worried about me? ”
I huffed again. “No.”
“Yes, you were.”
“Fine. There was a modicum of concern.”
“You drove over here out of a modicum of concern?”
I started gesturing with my hands. “Well, can you blame me? You’re my boss, and I need the job and if something happens to you, do I go to work on Monday? And if I don’t go to work, will I be able to pay my rent? What else was I supposed to do?”
He kept grinning. “You care about me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.” The hint of amusement in his voice made me want to throw something at him. Something soft, but still.
Standing, I decided to ignore his teasing. “Are you supposed to be icing your ribs?” Before he could answer, I pulled back the blanket to check. Swallowing hard, I tried to ignore his bare chest, covered in a dusting of chest hair.
A dark blue ice pack covered part of his rib cage. I gently touched it. Hardly even cold.
“Mel, it’s fine. I can get it later.”
“This isn’t doing anything.” I picked it up and took it to the kitchen. “I hope you have more than one of these so you can rotate.”
“Yeah, Theo brought them over.”
“Good.” I grabbed a cold ice pack out of the freezer and put the warm one in to re-freeze. “What else do you need? More water? You need to stay hydrated.”
“I’m fine. I have water.”
I brought the ice pack and laid it across his ribs, then pulled the blanket up to his chin. Our eyes met, and for a second, I had the craziest urge to run my fingers through his messy hair. To lean down and gently press my lips to his.
Jenna.
His date from the previous night popped into my head like a jack-in-the-box from hell. I could almost imagine her with clown makeup and a little jester’s hat, bouncing around like she was on a spring, laughing at me.
Straightening, I took a step back. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have come over. I’m totally making it weird.”
“It’s okay, you’re not making anything weird. Or maybe you’re always weird, and I’m used to it.”
I needed to get out of there before Jenna came over to take care of him. Surely, she would, wouldn’t she? He must have called her to tell her he was hurt. She was probably on her way. Why hadn’t I thought of that before?
I picked up my purse. “I’m glad you’re okay enough to be home. If you need help with anything, let me know. I’ll be around. And if you don’t, that’s fine too. I don’t have any emotional attachment to being the one to help take care of you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
He cracked a smile again. I didn’t understand why he kept looking at me like that, but it made my insides swirl in decidedly uncomfortable ways.
Tantalizing, but so uncomfortable.
“Thanks for checking up on me,” he said.
“You’re welcome. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of people taking care of you, so you don’t need me.”
He opened his mouth like he was going to reply but hesitated. He closed it again, and I decided I probably didn’t want to hear what he’d been about to say.
Without another word, I was out the door.