12. Free Fallin’
FREE FALLIN’
LAKE
I grabbed a small, portable, square table from the storage area, pulled out the legs, and set it up. Olivia insisted on grabbing two of the folding chairs, and while she sets those up as I unpack the cooler. I share the hand sanitizer with her and then feel completely lost on what to do next.
“Sorry it’s not something fancier,” I finally mutter, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
Olivia puts her hand over mine and grins at me. “I think it’s perfect.”
“You do?” I ask, shocked, as I look down at the individual container that I had just handed her. For her to say that she couldn’t have looked at it. I’m shocked when I notice she has the peanut butter sandwich open and has a small packet of grape jelly in her hand.
“You can’t go wrong with peanut butter. Plus, it was pretty thoughtful that you brought the jelly packets so I could choose what I wanted. Although a banana would have been better.”
“Well, I can’t take the credit for being thoughtful.
I’m a bachelor, so I keep a bunch of those jelly packets because I usually grab breakfast through the drive-through when I’m out running errands for the ranch.
You’re right, though. I don’t have bananas, but I have some watermelon in the cooler for dessert.
I also have plain chips or barbecue. Pick your poison. ”
She laughs. “Okay, now I’m really impressed. We have a feast and fresh fruit too.”
“I feel like you’re mocking me, Miss Davis,” I joke, enjoying the smile on her face much more than I should.
“Nope. Honestly, if I had gone home, dinner would have been a peanut butter and banana sandwich and chips. I didn’t have any watermelon, so really, I would have missed out.”
“Are you lying to make me feel better?” I laugh.
“Nope. I used to love cooking. Dad hated takeout, unless it was from one certain place there in Cherokee. So, I made everything we ate for the most part. I enjoyed it, but cooking for one person is kind of a waste. Now and then, I’ll get to wanting a meatloaf sandwich or spaghetti, but nine times out of ten it’s just easier to make a sandwich. ”
“I can attest to that. Except I wouldn’t even know how to make meatloaf. I’m in the bunkhouse though. If I try to cook, I’d have to cook for everyone, and that would be bad.”
“It would?” she asks, studying me.
“I’d probably give the whole crew food poisoning, and I don’t think Colt and the others would like working the ranch all by themselves.”
“Probably not,” she agrees with a giggle. Then, she takes a bite of her sandwich. “Mm …” she hums. I swear the sound makes my cock stand up and salute. Shit.
“Good?” I question lamely.
“You bought the good stuff. I’m impressed.”
I chuckle. The sound is rusty even to my own ears. “It doesn’t take much to win you over then, Livy.”
An almost wistful look sweeps across her face. “I’m not normal, I guess. The best dates I ever had in my life were at Subway in the afternoon.”
“You’re a beautiful woman. You deserve more than being taken out to a fast-food joint for a date,” I respond before I can stop myself.
“I had expensive dinners and a man that spent money on me after that, but even when I shouldn’t have, I still wished for those afternoons in Subway,” she says quietly.
“Why?” I ask, confused.
“Because I spent them with the one man in the world whom I loved with everything inside of me. I didn’t know it at the time, but he loved me the same.
I pushed him away when I should have refused.
I should have held onto him with everything I had.
I didn’t. I failed us both,” she says so sadly that the words are painful to hear.
“It must be amazing to experience a love like that,” I respond, pain squeezing in my chest like a phantom wound I can’t name.
“It is. It’s also a living hell at times.”
I cock my head and look at her, not understanding.
Olivia seems to understand my unspoken question.
“We went through …” she pauses, and her face twists in something that can only be described as immense pain, before she utters another word.
“Hell.” Silence surrounds us. I want to say something, anything to help stop the darkness around her from spreading, but I can’t make anything come out.
Fuck, I’m afraid to move in case that hurts her more.
Finally, she speaks again, but the words are just as hurtful to hear. “Bear and I went through hell together, and then he died, leaving me alone. I wish every hour of every single day that I would have gone with him instead of being left here alone in a world without him.”
“I know this sounds stupid, Livy, but I’m envious of you.”
“You are?” she laughs—the sound cold, not humorous at all.
“Why? Do you want my ability to send a simple picnic dinner with a friend into something dark, depressing—not to mention sharing something I shouldn’t have shared with another person?
I don’t even tell my therapist this stuff.
I think I’m afraid she’ll have me committed. ”
“I’m glad you shared with me. I’m okay if you continue to do it. In fact, I want you to.”
“Why?”
“You don’t realize how damn lucky you are to have those memories. I’m honored you feel free enough to share them with me.”
She looks at me for a minute and does her best to give me a small smile. It doesn’t entirely reach her pretty eyes, but it’s something. I feel the tension surrounding us lessen—at least a little.
We sit in the quiet for a while. I enjoy it. After the emotional outpouring from her earlier, I figure she needs it too. So, without so much as a moment of small talk, we continue eating the sandwiches and chips—washing it down with the bottles of water I brought.
When I bring the container of chunked watermelon from the cooler, she finally speaks. “Have you ever been in love?”
The question is out of the blue, and I admit, not a topic I really wanted to discuss. There’s a million ways to answer it honestly—not because I want to open that can of worms, but more along the lines that she was horrifically honest with me, and I can only be the same.
“I don’t know.”
She stares at me as if waiting for me to go on, but I don’t. It’s not really a topic I want to continue talking about.
“How can you not know? Haven’t you had a woman in your life that you let in, confided to?”
“I don’t know,” I repeat, making her frown deepen. She’s clearly not happy with me, and I let out a deep breath, wishing I’d just kept my mouth shut. “I was in a bad accident, and when I woke up, I had no memory of my past.”
“None?”
“I don’t even know my name. I had severe injuries, so much so that my fingerprints were ruined.
I was told that they eventually grow back, but my injuries were inflicted, and the doctors said I showed signs of prolonged torture.
Plus, who even knows if they are on record somewhere?
So, I decided not to try to find out who I was and asked Carson and the others to abide by it.
I figured it was just better to let whoever it was to continue to think I was dead. ”
“What if someone out there, like a family or wife, loved you? Someone who you loved?”
“Then me being alive would be a danger to them. It was better this way all around. Plus, I have no memory of them. It has been over two years and I still don’t have any memories. The chance of it coming back now is very improbable.”
“You sound so matter of fact about it all. You could have kids, Lake.”
“Then, I’m keeping them safe,” I answer quietly.
She studies me for a moment, and then finally takes a breath and nods.
“I get it. If I could go back and do everything over, I would have done everything in my power to stay far away from Bear. It’s my brother who killed him, and the guilt of that alone has nearly destroyed me.
You’re an amazing man,” she says, and something fills my chest that I can’t quite name. I just know it’s not bad.
“Well, I should tell you that not only am I amazing,” I begin tongue-in-cheek, “but I’m also on what is essentially my first date.”
She blinks wide-eyed, staring at me like I’ve grown three heads. Then she burst out laughing. “I hate to break it to you, Lake, but this doesn’t qualify as a date.”
Now it’s my turn to frown. “What would make it qualify?”
“Well, there’s nothing romantic here and we’re just friends. It’s more like a brother or sister having dinner together,” she explains.
I should be satisfied with her answer. I mean, after all, it is true. I don’t like it, though. In fact, I hate it. “Well, I’ve never been on a date to know the difference,” I point out. “So, what would make it romantic?”
“Well, I mean, I’m not sure I’m a good person to ask,” she laughs.
“I’m pretty sure, though, that a person must want to be closer physically to the other.
There has to be handholding or some kind of connection.
” She stops talking and looks at me. Her cheeks are a cute, bright pink, betraying her embarrassment.
I have no idea why I enjoy it so much, but I do.
“I’m making a mess of this,” she says. “I don’t know how to describe it because I don’t have experience.
With Bear and I, it came naturally, because we were both just trying to survive when we met. We bonded easily.”
“So, you’re saying we’re both new at this kind of thing,” I suggest.
“What kind of thing?” she asks, and I know she’s putting her guard up. I need to stop that. I don’t want her to see me as a threat.
“Two strangers getting to know one another and becoming close—”
“Lake—”
I hold her hand gently on the table. “Close friends,” I say, which is all I’ve been trying to do, but the words sit wrong in my head.
“Oh,” she says again, her cheeks deepening once more in color.
“I don’t have anyone, Livy. I’m tired of having no one who cares how I feel—no one that understands. It seems to me that you have the same issue.”
“I have my therapist,” she responds at once.
“So, you have some suit that has studied books on how things make you feel, but you don’t have someone who knows what it means to have the world stolen from them, to survive when you wish you hadn’t.
” I can tell my words hit their mark because Olivia just stares at me before nodding her head in acceptance.
“When I talk with you, Livy, I feel more alive than I have since I woke up in that damn hospital bed. If I manage to give you just a small sliver of that feeling, I don’t want either of us to lose it. ”
I brace myself for her to argue further. I fully expect it. Olivia surprises me, though, when she whispers quietly, “Okay, Lake.”
Okay? Damn. I didn’t expect it, but I’m not going to give her time to second-guess herself.
“Wait here,” I tell her. Then, I get up and walk quickly to the small office.
After pushing some buttons on the stereo in there, I head back just as the sounds of Tom Petty begin playing on the speaker system.
When I make it back to Olivia, I stand by her seat and hold out my hand. “May I have this dance?”
“Dance?” she squeaks.
I grin. “Well, it’s something I always wanted to know if I could do, but never tried.
I figure that if I’m going to make a fool of myself, it’d be safer to do it with a friend.
Since you’re the only one I have …” I shrug, ignoring how weird it feels to hold my hand out and Olivia not putting hers in it.
“What if you step on my toes?” she asks with a slight smile.
I pretend not to notice the way her hand trembles in mine as she finally takes pity on me.
“I’ll pay the doctor's bill,” I joke, my voice hoarser than normal.
We begin dancing, although it’s more swaying than anything else.
I breathe in her scent of vanilla and coconut.
It seems to soothe my nerves easily. I fight the urge to pull her completely against my body.
Olivia is tense in my arms, but she’s not pulling away, and I consider that a small victory.
“Lake?”
“Yeah?” I ask quietly.
“Is your name really Lake?”
“It is now,” I reply.
“Well, it’s a nice name.”
“Thanks, Livy.”
I don’t tell her that tonight is the first night that I liked the name, and it’s all because she used it.
I don’t tell her I’m confused because I can’t explain why I’m so drawn to her, or how it feels like I’ve been waiting for her from the moment I woke up.
No, I lied out of my ass when I mentioned friends.
I wanted to dance with her because I wanted her in my arms. I don’t tell her that I’m scared tonight will end and I’ll wake up in the morning and none of this happened.
Instead, I close my eyes, and as Tom sings about good girls and bad boys, I hum along.
When he wails that he’s free fallin’ over and over, I understand, because I’m doing the same … for Olivia.