Falling Under

Chapter one

“Lola!” Dez’s voice cut through the cheap iron fencing he was installing at the back of his yard which faced the small lake that sat in the middle of our suburb.

“Yeah?” I yelled back shoving awkwardly through his back door with a heaping plate of tuna sandwiches, a pitcher of ice cold lemonade and a glass. I struggled through the dense patches of weeds that rose up like a wall of linebackers all about his backyard.

Blowing a hunk of my thick black hair out of my eyes I stomped towards Dez who was hammering another piece of two-by-four onto his fence. That I made it to him with only a few scratches on my legs was a small victory.

“Dez, your yard sucks!” I said as I shoved the food into his outstretched hands.

He grinned, his white teeth milky against his chocolate skin, “Yeah, but that’s why you’re gonna be my slave and help me clean this shit up.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “It’s about time I reconsider this friendship.”

He put down his hammer and shoved three slices of sandwich into his mouth, “You’re too damn uppity,” he chewed with his mouth wide open.

“Eww. Why the hell are you so disgusting?” I took a step back.

He grinned and chomped down more food, he waggled his brows at me, “but I’m still your best bitch, right?”

I tried not to laugh and failed, “that’s not actually an honor, since you’re my only friend.”

The laughter went out of Dez’s jolly face for a split second, “Lola, you know I’d do anything for you right?”

I colored, embarrassed, “Yeah,” I looked away towards the blue lake at the back of his yard.

Dez followed my hungry eyes, “Go on, get outta here.”

I shook my head, looked back at his half-finished fence, wooden posts lay piled on the ground, “No,” I shook my head firmly, “this weekend is the only time I can help you-”

Dez held up a hand, shook his dreadlocked head in stubborn dispute, “Shut up Lola, you’ve been helping me with this dump for weeks on top of working your ass off with your dad.  Go to the lake,” he finished sternly.

He was right.  I looked at the enticing water, silent blue waves rippling into each other.  There were a few people jogging.  Tiny, wooden piers which ran out over the water were mostly empty.

Still I hesitated, the habit of wanting to be needed was too strong, “when will you finish this if I bail on you?”

Dez scowled, “do I have to throw you off my property for you to take a break?” He voice was stern but his eyes crinkled with pity.

He gave me a firm, gentle push, “Come back to help if you want,” he looked down at me, “working with your dad shouldn’t be your entire life, Lola.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. On impulse, I threw a hug around his wide shoulders.  He growled threateningly at me. I giggled and scooted away before he could change his mind.

Minutes later I sighed with pleasure as I curled my toes in the cool water.  I had chosen a pier far away from the few that were occupied.

Eyes closed in bliss I slipped my legs deeper into the water, I groaned as the gentle, unending waves brushed past me.

“You shouldn’t make sounds like that out in public,” a gruff voice warned.

I jerked around splashing the water apart. I blinked as a tall silhouette loomed over me.  He blocked out the vibrant afternoon sunlight at his back.  It blinded me for a split second. I gasped as my vision adjusted.

Jake Heathcliff.  His father, Dr. Heathcliff had hired my dad two weeks ago to clean up his five acre property.

Jake stood only two feet away.  Well within my personal space.  My mouth went dry.  I’d rarely seen him since we started working on his dad’s property, and on those occasions he’d maintained a healthy amount of distance.

I blushed as he continued to peer down at me, his eyes roved over my face, studying it.  But whatever he thought about what he was seeing was carefully hidden behind those perceptive, pale green eyes.

Instead of wilting beneath his arrogant gaze, I decided to give him a dose of his own medicine.  I let my eyes rove up and down his tall, lean frame.

His biceps gleamed with moisture in the mellow sunlight of late afternoon.  A sheen of sweat showed on his long, powerful legs covered by a black jogging shorts.

He’d been running.  Hard.

I opened my mouth and a sigh of longing snuck out.  I snapped it shut.  What must he think of me ogling him like a hopeful puppy?  I scrambled to my feet.

“Running away?” He drawled, there was no mistaking the arrogant mockery in his tone.

I stopped, tipped my head back and looked him straight in the eye, “I wouldn’t run from anybody like you,” I snapped.

His lips tilted upwards in a thin, threatening smile that revealed white teeth that were a little crooked in front, “And just who are people like me?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

I refused to be intimidated.  I gathered my wits for a nasty putdown and then stopped.  My dad’s face flashed before me, careworn and burnt dark by the pitiless sun he worked under every day.  This asshole’s father was literally putting food on our table.

Frustrated I grimaced and ducked by head.  I avoided his waiting gaze, “Forget I said it,” I gritted out.

“Coward,” his voice was sudden, a sharp bark that was unexpectedly harsh.

It snapped my head up.  Hard green eyes clashed with mine.

He jerked his chin over his shoulder, “Go on. Run away. You’re wasting my time.”

Stunned, all semblance of job-preservation fled from my mind.  I smiled sweetly at him, then lowered my butt back onto the hard wood of the pier, without looking at him I said, “I’m sure you don’t need me to show
you
the way home.”

There was a cough behind me, it sounded like he was leaving but the rusty sound came again and exploded. He threw his head back and roared with laughter.  A few of the people jogging by shot inquisitive looks at us.

He didn’t give a damn.  He sounded so amused that my lips began to twitch.  Moments later I was biting my bottom lip ruthlessly to keep my cheeks from splitting. It was in vain. 

A giggle popped out, then another.  Soon I was laughing just as hard with him.

“Move over,” he said gruffly as he scooted down next to me on the pier.

Grudgingly I scraped across to the opposite side of the wall to accommodate his invading bulk.

I shot him an irritated look.

“What?” he asked his green eyes wide with innocence.

“You’re too big,” I grumbled, squashing my shoulder into the hard wood to make room for him.

He smiled, displaying an adorable dimple in his left cheek, then fluttered his lashes outrageously, “Possibly or this pier isn’t made for normal sized human beings.”

I ran my gaze over his broad shoulders which would easily make two of mine, “tell yourself that.”

“I do,” he said airily.

I turned away and tried to concentrate on the soft waves raking across the surface of the lake. I inhaled. Savored the raw smell of life that they pulled from the water.  I wrinkled my nose at the unpleasant odor of fish.

“I’d like to get to know you better.”

What? I shook my head to try to make some sense out of what he was asking.  We weren’t friends. The most we had in common was that we lived in the same small town and I cut the grass he walked on.

I latched onto the most plausible reason to disassociate myself from his outrageous request, “I don’t know you.”

“Let’s change that,” he said undaunted.

“Why?”

“I can’t answer that,” he turned to face the churning waters of the lake.

I watched him for some moments but when he didn’t look around, I joined him in the strange, welcome silence which fell around us.

Chapter two

Late the next afternoon, I tensed as we pulled to a stop in front of Jake’s paved circular driveway. Coincidentally afternoons were ideal for trimming trees and other bushes, the sun wasn’t so hot then.  However my chances of running into Jake were incredibly high.

I got out of my dad’s truck, my steps dragged as my eyes darted around the lush trees and shrubs of the property.

Only silence greeted me.  I felt a rush of relief.

The vast lawn wrapped around the three story log home.  At the back of this was a thick wall of aspen trees, their spring leaves soft and mellow with the promise of radiant beauty come fall. Jake’s house stood like a tower in the middle of this forest.

I spotted my dad struggling with the lawnmower at the back of the truck. I went to help him lift it down.

“Going over here,” my dad motioned to me as he wheeled the mower off to trim around a thick clump of grey-blue juniper bushes.

I gathered up some tools and went around to the back of the house. I stopped in front of a scarlet leaved plum tree, pulled on my gardening gloves and bent to clear the dead leaves from about its slender trunk.

Slipping on my headphones, I listened to sounds from my playlist.

I didn’t hear him but felt his eyes on me, my body began to tighten, the blood in my veins grew thick.

I slowly faced him.

He walked towards me, his stride slow and deliberate, his strong hands with their blunt fingers stuck into the low riding pockets of well-worn wrangler jeans.

I glanced around suddenly unsure about facing him again so soon, a rake sat the foot of the tree I’d been trimming, I grabbed it up and held it like a shield in front of me.

His mossy green eyes took this in, his lips quirked into a slow, wicked smile.

He knew I was terrified of facing him.

My eyes narrowed.

He stopped so close the edges of our shadows melded into one.

I cleared my throat loudly, “listen about yesterday, forget it. I’m not sure what happened but I don’t actually care,” I laughed nervously to cover the lie.

He gazed down at me, his face unsmiling. His eyes traveled down from the tip of my unbound hair to the scruffy, formerly white sneakers on my feet. Then he came back up.

I gasped.

His eyes were far from dissuaded, they burned with intent. “You will need to get over your fear of me.”

I shook my head stubbornly, “nope. Not really.”

“Yep. Really,” he pantomimed, his tone just as obstinately childish.

“What do you want from me?” I burst out exasperated.

“I told you I don’t know,” he raked his hand through his close cropped hair, his eyes were exasperated and if he was lying I couldn’t see it.  All I saw was confusion and something else that looked … dark.

I drew closer to him against my better judgment but I couldn’t risk my dad overhearing us. I stared coldly at him, “I’m not going to sleep with you just because you crooked your finger in my direction.”

He drew back from me, his eyes going hard, “is that what you think this is? I just want to fuck you?” he sneered.

Stung by the venom in his voice, I flinched but did not back down, “what else could there be between a doctor’s son and a girl who can’t even afford community college?”

“How about someone to just hang out with? Or is that too much for your narrow mind to grasp.”

“How dare you?” I flung back, stung by his callousness.

He ignored my outrage, “I doubt you have any friends if this is the way you treat them.”

There was a whack, the sound of solid flesh connecting with firm fingers smacked through the air between us.

He stood stock still, his cheeks red, his face wasn’t angry but surprised and there was an unmistakable glint of pleasure in his eyes.

Horrified I stared up at him.  Would he throw me and my dad off his property before or after he fired us?

He let out a low whistle, “this is the point where you say you’re sorry, beg for my forgiveness yadda, yadda, yadda.”

I straightened my shoulders, bent and picked up my gloves which sat caked with black dirt at my feet.  My chin trembled as I faced him through a sudden, mortifying veil of tears that I refused to let drop, “No.”

“What?” he growled, “you won’t even apologize for striking your employer?”

“Sue me,” I spat and spun around on my heels.

“Shit!” he hissed behind me, “Lola, hey, wait up!”

He rushed in front of me, “you’re not passing.”

“I can just walk around you,” I flung back.

“Try it,” he challenged, “I’ll follow you all the way to your dad until you listen to what I have to ask.”

Cornered, I glared while he smiled, “okay spit it out.”

He shook his head, “you have to promise you’ll listen and give it a shot.”

His tone was light but the determined gleam in his eyes said he’d give me hell if I didn’t give in.

I waited.

He stuck his hands back into his pockets.  He was no longer confident or taunting, a blush that had nothing to do with my slap stained his high, strong cheekbones, he looked unsure.

“I want to see you,” he rasped out.

My eyes slammed into his.  And smacked up against hope, desperation and a frightening need.

I didn’t believe him, “Is this some type of stupid bet with your friends to embarrass the
female
lawns keeper?” I demanded harshly.