Chapter 7 #2
Hannah blinks her eyes, staring right into mine, and I see the deepest ocean blue I've ever beheld gazing at me. Her hands cling to my jacket, head shaking slightly, and I see by the throb in her throat how fast her heart is racing.
"You okay?" I ask softly, lost for the moment in the intensity of adrenaline surging through my body.
"Everyone alright down there?" I hear, but I don't pry my eyes from her for a second. There's an electric charge between us so sharp, I think if I did look up, it may hurt me.
"Yes," she whispers, blinking again like she’s stunned.
I'm still holding her. I don't know why I am, but I am, and strangely, it feels right. It feels like maybe I should've done this sooner. But this is the woman who's running ramshackle over my property and I'm annoyed with her pestilent behavior. Why am I holding her?
"We're fine," Mrs. Reyes snips angrily, and it's my cue to break whatever this trance is that I'm under.
I pull back from Hannah, who is still trembling but steady on her feet now.
And when I turn to Mrs. Reyes, I can see whatever just happened has not made her happy.
Her forehead is set with deep creases, and she's studying the pylon intensely now, clicking her tongue.
The toolchest lay sinking in the sand with tools scattered around it, being washed over by the salty water, and somehow, I know things just got a lot worse.
"This won't do." Mrs. Reyes glares at me. "We have to shut this pier down until repairs are made, and we have to rope off the underside pylons to ensure the public knows this is hazardous." She pulls out her phone and starts typing something into it as the news punches me in the gut.
"Wait!" Hannah moves from her spot, suddenly snapped out of her own trance, and says, "Until repairs are done?" Her gaze flicks anxiously from the safety inspector to me and back. "Can that be done before the festival?"
Hannah sounds frantic, not angry, and for the first time I'm noticing the fear in her eyes.
Not just her eyes—her whole body. She's rigid and braced, like something else might fall from the sky and crush her, and whatever spark just happened between us feels so strong still that I am sensing how deeply she feels about this.
It's like some emotional tether joins us, letting me see how passionately she feels about this damn festival, for one reason or another.
"There is plenty of time for this to be done quickly if Mr. Maddox has the resources.
" Mrs. Reyes doesn't even look up as she speaks.
She keeps typing away into her phone as I work my jaw and sigh hard.
Having it all done by the Fourth of July is impossible, and shutting down this pier means turning three different businesses away.
I can't do that to them this time of year when things are already slow.
"Luke," Hannah says, almost sounding like a shrill whine, "Mr. Dorsey is able to help with the funding.
" She steps forward with a pleading expression and I notice her bottom lip quiver.
Until now, all she's been to me is stern and demanding, but I see the little girl inside her right now, really hoping things will go her way, and it almost breaks me.
"Please tell me you can work this out. I know we've had our differences but… "
Mrs. Reyes scowls as her phone rings, and she adjusts the collar of her coat as she walks back up the hill out of the tide zone to take her call. I see two men coming toward us, likely to retrieve the tools, and I have a split second to make this choice.
But I choke.
I stand there like a damn fool staring at her, probably with the ugliest expression on my face possible, and the men walk up and start gathering tools from the water, soaking their boots and jeans, and I step aside out of their way as Mrs. Reyes comes back.
"It's official, the city is shutting down the docks.
You have twenty-four hours to get these boats into new moorings.
They can't stay, and no one can work on these piers again until repairs are made to the pylons.
" She looks stern now, not the friendly face she offered when we first met this morning, and as much as I want to blame Hannah and be angry, I can't. This was inevitable.
"Thank you for stopping by," I tell the woman as I limp up the hill past Hannah without even so much as looking her in the eye.
God, I hate how beautiful that woman is when she looks helpless and desperate.
And I hate how my body wanted nothing more than to keep holding her as she trembled.
The warrior inside me that's used to fighting and taking orders felt strong again, stronger than I have in years thanks to this damn metal rod that desked me.
But there's no way in hell she would even look twice at me. She stood there stunned not because of the way we touched but because she could've been seriously hurt. I'm a fool if I even let myself think that spark was anything other than adrenaline-induced shock.
But one thing's for sure.
I know Hannah wants this festival so badly, she might just break down if she doesn’t get it.
And that makes my chest do something very strange, twisting and flipping around inside me as I wrestle my own damn pride.
I'm gonna have to let this woman have her way, and I might just hate myself for that.