If Ever I Fall (Rhode Island Romance #1) (13 page)

“Jesus
Christ
.”

“When she was ten
years old, her father enrolled her in a degree program at Berkeley. She
graduated summa cum laude at twelve with a degree in Applied Mathematics. From
there, she was taken to Stanford to complete her PhD. When she was nineteen she
became one of the youngest full university professors in the world.”

“
Jesus
…
Willa.”

She continued in a
rush of words, wanting to throw it all out there, fling all the hurt and regret
and anger out into the universe until it dissolved into a million powerless
fragments. “When she was a little girl—when her mother was still alive—her
books were her friends, the words on the pages her companions. She read about
faeries and dragons and faraway lands. She loved getting lost in her
imagination. But her father didn’t like her to daydream. He took that joy away
from her. He pushed and pushed for her to excel. His dream was for her to win
the Nobel Prize.”

She caught her
breath, hysteria bubbling to the surface. “But that wasn’t
her
dream.
She was like a robot, a drone, just going through the motions. She got ulcers
and headaches, had panic attacks. She saw no way out.
Her father made her believe that she couldn’t survive
outside of academia. That that was the only world that would accept her, the
only kind of world she could live in. And then her father died.”

Tears came to her
eyes, rolling down her cheeks before she could stop them. “I laughed when he
died. I
laughed
, and I danced around my office. What kind of daughter does
that?”

“God. Willa.” Joe
unclenched his fists, reached out and hauled her against his chest, holding her
tight. “He didn’t deserve anything from you. I would’ve danced on his grave.”
His hands pressed her even closer, his voice a rough whisper in her ear. “He’s
gone. He’s gone, and you’re here, a strong, bright, beautiful woman, able to
make your own decisions, to live your own life. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

The floodgates
opened, and all the anguish she had borne for too many years surged forth. Her
body heaved in gut-wrenching sobs. She clutched the front of Joe’s shirt, her
fingers twisting in the soft cotton fabric as she rested her head against his
chest.

His hands rubbed up
and down her back in soothing motions. “Cry it out, Willa. Let it go.”

After a while, she
gave a hiccoughing sob. “I’m getting your shirt all w-wet.” She made a
half-hearted attempt to pull away.

She felt his hand
touch the back of her head, guiding her to place her cheek against his chest
once more. “It’s just a shirt.”

“This is the only
place I’ve ever felt l-loved,” she confessed between her gasping sobs. “Here.
That summer I s-stayed with my Aunt Pauline. She let me read any book I wanted.
I c-could play with the neighbor kids if I wanted. She made me feel like I was
special just because I was W-Willa. Not because I was smart.”

She felt his warm
cheek against the top of her head. “She was a wonderful lady,” he said, his
touch and his tone encouraging Willa to take all the time she needed to
navigate her long-buried emotions.

Finally, after what
seemed like hours to her, the tears stopped. She felt drained empty. All that
remained were spaces that ached for things that she knew didn’t belong to her. She
had no strength or will to move out of Joe’s arms.

He had one arm
wrapped around her lower back, the other curved around her shoulders. His
embrace was relaxed, but she felt the steel beneath his touch. She sensed that
he didn’t want to move away either.

“No one can hurt
you like that anymore, Willa,” he promised, his chest rumbling against her
cheek. “I won’t allow it.”

Something in his
voice made her stiffen and pull back. His grip tightened, and she was only able
to draw back far enough to look up at him. She frowned. “I’m not Sylvie or
Tony. I’m not another orphan you need to take under your wing.”

His eyes flared.
His cheeks turned ruddy. “Is that what you think this is?” he asked fiercely.
“Is that
really
what you think?”

Her heart lurched
at the strange mix of emotions storming across his face: anger, guilt,
confusion and an unmistakable desire—the same feelings that were tumbling
around inside of her. “No,” she whispered. “But what I’m thinking. It’s not
right.”

He took a step
backwards, but his hands still gripped her forearms as if he didn’t have the
power to let her go. “I have been in hell since you opened the door that first
day,” he said. “Absolute hell. And there’s no way out.”

With this starkly
spoken confession, he abruptly released her. He took another step back. He
rubbed his face with shaking hands, and then slid them into his hair, fingers
clenching his skull. He stood like that for a few breathless seconds before
pivoting away from her, hands braced on his hips, his harsh features in profile
as he glared into the distance.

Shattered, Willa
kept silent. Without conscious thought, she lifted the collar of her shirt to dry
her eyes. A breeze kicked up, ruffling across the sand, carrying the scent of
the ocean and an underlying odor of kelp.

“I’ve known Julia
all my life,” he said after a while, his voice calmer. “We played in the
kindergarten sandbox together. We had our first kiss in third grade. She was my
first in everything. It was a given that we’d get married someday.”

“Why have you
waited so long?”

His chest rose and
fell on a long drawn-out breath. He flashed a brief, mirthless smile. “I had
big plans for myself. I’d go to college. Get my degree in engineering. Take a
year off after graduation to travel as much of the world as I could. Then I
would get an amazing job. I saw myself working as an environmental engineer, maybe
even putting my skills to use in third-world countries. Once I was firmly
established, once I felt that I could support a wife and family, I’d get
married.” He shook his head, swinging around to look at her with a cynical
expression. “Then life hit me in the face like a sledgehammer. Everything I’d
taken for granted vanished just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“You never went
back to college?”

“No. It was
impossible. The first five years were brutal. I almost lost the business. I
made sure Tony got into college, then Sylvie.” He raised his hands. “Like I
said before, I did what I had to do. And I’d do it again. No regrets.”

“And you had Julia
there to help.”

“Yes.” He rubbed one
hand across the nape of his neck, the other fisted on his hip. The look he gave
Willa held sadness and self-derision. “That
is
something I regret. The
burden I put on her. She wanted to help, but I took advantage of her generosity.
I became used to her being there every day. We fell into this routine. But
after a while, for me, it became too
much
of a routine. I got restless.
It reached a point where I had to tell her to back off. I couldn’t…breathe.”

“Tony said your
relationship with her was off and on.”

Joe gave a wry
shake of his head. “Tony told you a lot.”

“He loves both of
you. He doesn’t want to see Julia hurt.”

“Neither do I.” He
ran his fingers through his hair again. “
Damn it
. Neither do I.”

“When you asked her
to marry you… You must have felt settled by then. Not…restless anymore?”

“I thought so. I really
thought so. I’d dated other women. And I pushed her to see other guys. But we
always circled back to each other. She’s always been my best friend. I thought
that I would never share a deeper bond with any other woman. Until you.” He
took a step closer, his eyes intense, piercing into the deepest heart of her.
“The second you opened that door, it’s as if something opened up inside of
me
.
Something I didn’t realize I’d kept closed all these years. There’s just
something about you, Willa. Your eyes are so clear and direct. There’s no
pretending with you. You don’t hide anything. When I’m with you, it’s very hard
to keep my eyes off of you.”

Her pulse went wild
as he moved close enough to bring his hands to her face. He cupped her cheeks
with his warm, calloused palms, his thumbs softly brushing her cheekbones.
“I’ve told you things this morning that I’ve never told anyone. When I talk
with you, I feel this peace inside of me. Like… God, I don’t even know how to
describe it, except that you make me feel like all these hungry, lonely places
inside of me that I’ve been fighting to ignore have finally found a home. Does
that make sense? Do you feel it, too?”

“Yes,” she
whispered. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. “I do. But that still doesn’t make
it right.”

“
Christ
,” he
hissed between his teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut; when he opened them again,
his gaze was rife with pain and longing. His fingers tightened against her
skin. He lowered his head, but only to rest his forehead against hers. His
shaky breaths feathered across her skin. She clutched his forearms, her legs
threatening to collapse beneath her.

“I’m torn,” he
whispered. “
Torn
. I have no right to say these things to you. I tried to
push these feelings down, to keep cool and distant with you. But it’s
impossible. I can’t hide anything from you. One look from those gorgeous blue
eyes and…
Damn
. I cannot break Julia’s heart. And I’m not being fair to
you.”

“No,” Willa agreed,
a fresh agony tearing at her heart. “It isn’t fair, and it’s not right.”

 He gave a short,
harsh laugh. “So direct. So honest. You speak my conscience.”

He drew in a long,
deep breath. His hands slid down her face in a tender caress, one thumb rubbing
briefly across her trembling mouth, his eyes seeming to darken as he fastened
his gaze there. Then he sighed heavily, dropped his hands and stepped back.

She crossed her
arms over her chest and tried in vain to calm her agitated breathing.

They stood there
for several moments, just looking at each other.

“I had no intention
of having this conversation with you,” he finally said. “I only wanted to see
you alone this morning to apologize for the way things were left on Saturday.
We weren’t able to talk much after your friend joined us. I wanted to talk
about the bakery, to see if you were planning to move forward and if you wanted
my help. And now…” He gave a curt shake of his head. “Now, doing the right
thing means I need to keep my distance from you. I can’t be in the same room
with you and hide the way I feel. We both need space from…this.”

She frowned. “What
about the show?”

“I’ll talk with
Veronica. I’ll tell her that I need to focus on the North Providence project
and have Tony take the lead on this one. She can get shots of me working behind
the scenes on some of the design elements. I’ll have to be here for the final
reveal in a few weeks. But, maybe by then…this…these feelings between us will
have faded.”

She could tell he
had no more faith in that happening than she did. “What about the bakery?” she
asked.

“Are you moving
forward?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m glad.
Your face lit up the minute we walked into that room.”

“Do you think Sylvie
will want to help me? I’d like to hire her as an assistant manager.”

His expression
became less grim. “I think she’d love that. I’ll ask her to call you. And I’ll
have her pass along my recommendations on who can do the interior work for
you.”

Willa was thankful
for the mundane turn in their conversation; it was all that kept her from crumbling
to the sand in a pathetic heap. Even so, her heart was wailing.

“What about the
wall unit?” she managed to ask, striving for lightness in her tone.

“Do you still want
to keep some part of it in the house?”

“In the kitchen, yes.
And something in the bakery?”

“I can do that. I
made a promise to you, and I’ll keep it.”

She straightened
her shoulders. “Thank you. I guess…there’s nothing more to say.”

“I’m sorry, Willa,”
he said softly. “I—”

She raised a hand,
putting a stop to whatever he was about to say. “Don’t. Don’t be sorry.” She
took a tremulous breath. “You see, for the longest time I thought I’d never
connect with anyone in this way. I’ve always been the girl who gets the funny
looks, the pointed fingers. The way I can be sometimes… It can make some people
uncomfortable.” She forced herself to look him straight in the eye. She even
managed a shaky smile. “But you’ve shown me that it’s okay for me to be who I
am, that I don’t need to change myself for anyone. You accept me. You encourage
me. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.”

Later,
she couldn’t recall much of that week, only random bits and pieces that rushed
into her thoughts and dashed quickly out again, like the flash cards her father
had held in front of her face before she could even walk.

She kept busy. There
was now not just a home remodel to focus on, but the prospect of becoming a
small business owner as well. Hours were spent at her computer, researching,
taking notes. Phone conversations with Audrey carried into the late evening
hours as the older woman offered her advice and resources. There were several
conversations with Sylvie, too. Although Willa’s heart constricted with pain
every time Sylvie spoke her eldest brother’s name, any evidence of her deepest
emotions was kept firmly under lock and key.

Tony called her
over to the house once or twice to point something out to her while Curtis
hovered with his camera in the background. She murmured responses she hoped
were appropriate and avoided Tony’s searching, troubled gaze.

He took her around
to several building supply and furniture warehouses on Wednesday, Curtis and
Tiffany in tow. Willa was glad for the distraction of selecting paint colors
and tile designs and granite countertops. She duly admired various window
treatments, lighting and bathroom fixtures. She smiled for the camera as Tony
extolled the virtues of one kitchen or laundry appliance model over another. She
sat on sofas and chairs, put her feet up on coffee tables, opened cabinet drawers,
tested mattresses for firmness, walked barefoot on area rugs.

Tony laughed and
joked a lot in front of the cameras, putting her at ease as always. She didn’t
think too much about how similar some of his features were to his brother’s, or
how his laughter carried the same rich timbre.

In some ways, she
thought, Tony was still a boy. He’d endured a horrible tragedy, but she didn’t
think he’d truly had his mettle tested yet, not in the way his brother had. She
allowed herself to wonder briefly what Tony’s personality would have been like
if he hadn’t had the ever-present assurance of his brother’s care and guidance.
Would he be as self-confident and good-natured? And how much had both his
character and Sylvie’s been influenced by Julia?

She
must
be
a good person, this Julia.

Veronica arrived
with the production crew on Friday. They captured scenes of Willa and Collette
painting walls in the upstairs bedrooms. Then Veronica and Sam took Willa aside
for a lengthy interview, inviting her thoughts on the progress made so far and
if everything was meeting her expectations. There was no mention of Joe until
the end of the interview when Sam asked Willa if she was looking forward to
seeing what Joe had done with the wall unit.

“Oh, yes,” she said
in a practiced tone. “I’m looking forward to the final reveal and seeing the
solution he’s come up with.”

“You don’t want to
see the designs beforehand?” Veronica asked.

“No,” Willa
insisted. “I want to be surprised. And I know he’s very busy with the other
project right now. I don’t expect to see him again until the final reveal.”

Veronica gave her
an odd look but didn’t mention Joe again.

Every morning,
Willa hurried to the beach as soon as she could, anxious to rescue any stranded
horseshoe crabs before it was too late. One morning, she found one that was
barely moving. Only a few steps away from the dying creature stood two fishermen,
casting their lines in the bay. She yelled at them, angrily demanding to know why
they hadn’t put the helpless creature back in the water. They both looked at
her uncomprehendingly, giving her the impression that they didn’t speak English.

She brought the
crab to the water and watched, tears stinging her eyes, as it drifted, lifeless,
with the current.

She had never
raised her voice to anyone like that before. The burst of anger had briefly
energized her, then left her feeling drained, hollow.

She was sad. And
she was angry.

Not angry at Joe.
Not angry at herself. Just angry.

This thing between
them wasn’t anyone’s fault.

Growing up, she hadn’t
been allowed to nurture the soft, romantic side of her nature. And, for the
most part, her sexual experiences had been cold and mechanical. But she
remembered reading children’s storybooks about true love, one in particular
about a lightning bolt striking the hero’s heart when he first looked at the
woman he would eventually carry off into the sunset on his powerful white
steed.

The predominant,
logical side of her brain told her that there was no such thing as love at
first sight. There was instant physical attraction, of course. And lust. In
hindsight, she recognized that she had felt those things for Joe immediately,
but had kept the sensations buried because she was so unaccustomed to them.

But it had been
more than that. It
was
more than that. It wasn’t sexual desire that kept
her awake long into the hours of the night; it was the ache for the other half
of herself, the missing piece that made her feel whole.

She was angry
because she had no doubt in her mind that Joe was the only person who could
fill that empty place inside of her. She was angry because she’d been shown the
promise of what the rest of her life might be with him by her side, and that
promise had been snatched away.

The anger
manifested itself in printed reams of data on managing a small business, in
sheets and sheets of cookies, in throwing rocks in the water and slapping paint
on walls.

She didn’t speak
her anger or her sadness to anyone. And, thankfully, no one seemed to notice.
Or, if they did, they kept it to themselves.

When she returned
from her walk on Saturday morning, she found Collette pacing up and down her
driveway.

“You forgot about
the breakfast, didn’t you,” her neighbor guessed. “Hurry up and get ready. The
girls are already there!”

“What breakfast?”

“The May Breakfast
at Shirley’s church. I told you about it last Sunday. It’s a Rhode Island
thing. You’re going to love it.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Collette slammed
her hands on her hips. “You’ll grow an appetite when we get there. And you’re
getting too skinny. Now, go on. You have ten minutes.”

Willa wanted to
argue further, but Collette’s expression was uncompromising. Not long ago, the
older woman had confided that she thought of Willa as the daughter she’d never
had. Collette’s bossy mom side was in full evidence today. Willa heaved a deep
sigh as she walked up to her apartment. Oddly, she was less concerned about
being in a large group of people than she was facing an inevitable inquisition
from the girls.

On the drive over
to the church in Cranston, Collette told her about the history of the May
Breakfast, how it was one of those “only in Rhode Island” traditions dating
back to the late 1800s. “They have them all over the state during the month of
May, but this one we’re going to is one of the best. People line up at five in
the morning for the first seating. Good thing Shirley and Mercy got there early
to save us a seat for the nine o’clock.”

It was a warm
morning with temperatures already in the low seventies. Collette had shouted
from the driveway that it was a casual event, but Willa had chosen to wear one
of her few spring dresses, a short-sleeve wrap dress in a pretty floral print.
Low-heeled, tan strappy sandals and a matching purse completed the outfit. The
ensemble lifted her mood and her confidence a little bit, something she
desperately needed before facing the girls.

The church hall was
packed, and there was a festive mood in the air. Willa’s eyes traveled around
the room while she waited for Collette to purchase their tickets. Around the
perimeter were long tables laden with baked goods, plants, May baskets, and homemade
crafts for sale. A couple dozen round tables took up most of the floor space, every
chair occupied. Servers scurried between the tables carrying trays of food
which were set down family style in the middle of each table. Other servers
came around with offerings of coffee and juice.

“I don’t see the
girls,” Willa murmured as Collette came to stand beside her.

Collette scanned
the room, then pointed to the far corner. “There they are. Follow me.” There
was a curious note of anticipation and excitement in her voice, more so than
usual.

As they made their
way between the tables, Collette would stop every few feet to greet someone she
knew and then introduce Willa.

There were a lot of
people in the room that Collette knew. It seemed to take forever before they
finally reached the large round table in the corner.

“Hey, thanks for
saving us seats,” Collette said loudly. “Tony, Joe! I’m glad you could make
it.”

Willa’s head jerked
up. She’d been so focused on not tripping over any chair legs on her way to their
table that she hadn’t looked to see who was sitting there.

Mercy, Audrey and
Tony faced her. On the other side of the table, with their backs to her, were Shirley,
Joe and another woman.

It wasn’t Sylvie.

Willa’s heart
stopped and started again. She stood, frozen, as both Tony and Joe rose from
the table. Joe turned around, his smile carved on a face of granite. His eyes,
as they briefly rested on her face, were remote.

“Hello, Willa.”

She couldn’t speak.

Collette picked up
the slack in a heartbeat, moving forward to give him a swift hug. “We’ve missed
you at the house this week. Tony says you’ve been working on the other
project?”

“Yes. That one’s
taking a little longer than we planned. We uncovered some major problems with
the foundation.” He kept his eyes on Collette as he drew her attention to the
woman who had risen from her chair to stand beside him. “This is Julia Kelly,
my fiancée. Julia, this is Collette.”

“Nice to meet you, Julia,”
Collette said politely, shaking the other woman’s hand. She turned to Willa.
“And this is Willa. I’m guessing Joe and Tony have told you about her.”

“Of course,” Julia
said. She turned to Willa and offered her hand. “Willa, I’m so glad to meet
you. Sylvie is very excited to be working with you on your bakery plans. It’s
all she talks about.”

“Hello,” Willa managed
to reply.

Tony came forward
and took Willa’s hand. “Come and sit next to me,” he invited, tugging her
gently along. He pulled out the chair to his right, which put Willa in between
him and Shirley. Joe held out the empty chair to Julia’s right for Collette
before sitting down between Julia and Shirley.

“This is great,”
Collette chirped. “A full table of friends! I’ve been looking forward to this
all week.” She turned to Julia. “Tony says you guys haven’t been to a May
Breakfast in years. Did he have to do a lot of convincing to get you here?”

Julia laughed. “Not
at all. This is one of my rare Saturday’s without any events to manage. I’ve
been looking forward to this, too. It was Joe who took some convincing.” She
gave her fiancé a mock baleful stare.

“Oh, yeah?”
Collette shot a look at Joe. “You’re tired of my company already, huh, Joe?
What’s the matter, did I scare you away with all my yakking last week? Is that
really
why you haven’t been around Willa’s place?”

Any answer he might
have given was lost in the laughter that went around the table after Tony
exclaimed, “That
was
it, Collette. You made my brother blush in front of
his crew with all your dirty talk.”

“You can take the
girl out of Providence…” Mercy chortled after the laughter had ebbed.

“Tony says you
ladies have known each other for a long time,” Julia said.

“Almost fifty
years,” Audrey answered. “Except for Shirley. We adopted her a few years ago.
It was something to do on a Tuesday.”

“Hey now,” Shirley
said. “You know you love me.”

A server came
around to offer coffee and juice. On his heels came another server who set down
a platter of scrambled eggs and ham in the middle of the table. Another server
delivered cornbread and clam cakes.

“Dig in before they
take the platters away,” Collette encouraged with a gleeful smile. “Audrey,
pass me the butter, please.”

As everyone filled their
plates, Julia turned toward Willa. “Tony says these ladies have practically
adopted you. It sounds like you all have a lot of fun together.”

Mercy chimed in
before Willa could reply. “Actually, we only invited Willa into our group to
make sure we’d have someone younger and healthier to drive us around to our
doctor appointments and bingo games when we’re a bunch of old ladies.”

Another round of
laughter ensued.

Willa pinned a
smile on her face, playing along with the good-natured teasing. She saw what
her friends were doing, steering attention away from her until she got her
bearings. But that tactic could only play out for so long. She straightened her
back and cleared her throat.