When I Fall in Love (Christiansen Family) (16 page)

Grace seemed to be watching her feet kick through the sand. They had passed the second resort. He recognized the boardwalk, the deck, and the palm-edged walkways of their lodgings ahead.

“I don’t know why you’re abandoning the ice, but after these two weeks, I see more in you, Grace, than someone who sits in the stands. You are an amazing chef. You can do this if you want it.”

She looked at him then, and her mouth twitched as if trying to smile. Her eyes glistened, shiny in the moonlight.

He wanted to stop. To take her face in his hands, to run his thumb down her cheek, maybe chase away a tear. Instead he put it all into his voice, softening it, adding the urgency that churned inside him. “And you’re not alone. We make a great team, and I’m in it to win it if you are.”

Something in her eyes shifted as if his words had filtered through the layers of fear or frustration or even disappointment to latch on and pull her out of herself.

“I do want to do it. It’s just . . . I’m in way over my head here.”

Yeah, well, him too, but . . . “I have an idea. C’mon.” He angled across the boardwalk toward the lobby of their hotel.

She trotted after him to keep up. “What are we doing?”

He punched the elevator button and got on with her. At her floor, he handed over her shoes. “Change into your swimsuit and meet me here in ten minutes.”

She frowned, but he answered with a grin, something birthed from the idea swirling inside. “Trust me.”

When she nodded, it was all he needed to head upstairs, change into his doggers and surf shirt, and race back down, towel around his neck. He slipped a tip to the concierge, who let him into the surf shack. He picked out a board and a long-sleeved rash guard and returned to find Grace in the lobby.

She wore a pair of swim shorts and a tankini top, her towel draped around her neck.

He handed her the rash guard as she eyed the board. “Put this on.”

“Max . . .” She glanced beyond him at the board leaning against the arched door. “You do know it’s night.”

“Yep.” Grabbing the board, he jogged off the deck, down the boardwalk, toward the beach. He glanced over his shoulder, just to confirm that she’d followed him.

“Max?”

“Trust me!”

He headed down to the water, stopping where the waves creased the shore, the sand thick and swampy. Foam lapped at his feet, tugging at him, urging him into the cool mystery of the dark Pacific.

Grace caught up. He turned, grabbed her towel and his, and tossed them back onshore.

She was staring at him not unlike that first day, when she realized he meant it when he said he’d take her sightseeing. The words came easily. “I’m your swim buddy, remember?”

She nodded, not a hint of confidence in her face.

“It’s time for you to swim.”

He held out his hand and imagined it took everything inside her to grab it. But she did, and he walked her out into the surf. He reached waist level and stopped. “Get on the board.”

“Really?”

“I want you to feel the water under you, to catch the rhythm of the wave.”

She climbed aboard and he affixed the surf leash to her ankle.

“Stretch out on it, your chest in the middle, and start paddling. I’m right here with you.”

She began to dog-paddle, and he kept one hand on the board as they ventured out. The beach sloped slowly, shallow long into the ocean, so he touched bottom even as they paddled out past the break zone to deeper water. He finally started treading but kept the board in reach with Grace angled out toward the ocean.

“Sit up and balance. Feel the water move under you.”

She sat up, dangling her feet. The moon trailed an iridescent finger along the water, and she sat in a puddle of brilliance, her skin glistening. She had the power of a mermaid, the ability to bewitch him, pull him under.

He shook free and turned, one hand on the board, as he watched the waves. “Look for lumps on the horizon. Those are called sets, and in them are the waves that you might catch. If you ride over the swell, they’ll surge by you, then peak and break. Beginning surfers have to learn how to read a wave and find the
right one. Sure, you’ll choose the wrong wave, but you just paddle back out and try again.”

She was watching the horizon, her hands circling in the water.

“Now, when you find the right wave, you’re going to turn around and paddle hard to get under it. You’ll have to start paddling before it gets to you, and if it goes past you, then you’ve lost it.”

“And I have to try again.”

“Right. But tonight I’ll get you in position.”

“You want me to actually surf?”

More challenge than panic in her voice, and that’s why he loved her.

No . . . liked. Enjoyed.

“Once I catch the wave, what do I do?”

“You have to get up. You get your knees under you, then push with your arms and pop up, balancing with one foot in front, the other in back. But tonight, I just want you to ride the wave in. We’ll work on getting up later
 
—”

“I wanna try.”

He looked at her.

“I’m going to try.” She’d set her jaw, tight, almost angry.

Okay, then. Max stared out into the horizon. The night cast an eerie quietness over the dark waters, and for a second he feared what might be below, unseen. Strange because he’d always loved the bite of danger, the sense of skirting death, the adrenaline of living recklessly.

Now, the fear came quickly, settled in his gut, tingled through him. As if for the first time it might actually take root.

“Now?”

A set of swells came toward them, but he shook his head. “Not yet.”

They bobbed in the water, letting them ride by. Then another set. Finally, “Okay, I think these are the ones. Let’s get you turned around, and when I tell you to, paddle hard. When you feel the wave begin to take you, get your knees under you and pop up on the board. Or . . . you can just stay on your knees.”

“Just tell me when.”

He turned her around as she stretched out on the board. Read the sets and
 
—“Now. Paddle hard.” He pushed her out at an angle, then paddled with her, just to get her going.

But she was windmilling hard in the water and he could see the wave lift her. “Stand up!”

Grace pushed up to her knees and stayed there for a second
 
—so long that he thought she might just . . . Suddenly she popped to her feet. She balanced there, a perfect silhouette against the light of the moon, the sparkling water.

The wave carried her in. It wasn’t pretty, or even remotely correct, but she stayed on, almost all the way to shore before the board slowed. Then she paddled air, losing her balance, splashing into the water.

Max swam hard toward her.

Ten feet from him, Grace sprang up, laughing, water streaming from her mane of gold hair. “Wow
 
—I did it! I did it!”

Before he knew it, she’d launched herself at him, diving into his arms, hers curling around his neck.

The warmth of her body jolted him, but he reacted fast. He caught her at the waist, stood in the water and swung her around, feeling how small and perfect and
 
—

Oh, boy. He wanted to stay right here, holding her, molding
her to himself in the darkness, the vastness of the ocean around them.

Safe from time and life and especially incurable diseases that would steal the magic away.

How he hated his life sometimes, the part that stole his tomorrows.

She leaned back, met his eyes. “I did it.”

His gaze caught on the shimmer of water on her eyelashes. If he angled his head down, he could just brush her lips
 
—

Max found a smile, praying that his heart didn’t actually explode from his chest. “Yeah, you did. You’re a regular surfing Betty!” He heard his own too-exuberant enthusiasm. But maybe it would hide the tightening of his throat, the desire that thrummed through him.

“A what?”

“Nothing. You were fabulous.” Yeah, that sounded nearly normal. He put her down, let her back away. Cleared his throat. “Wanna go again?”

“No.” She stood in the water, hands on her hips. “I shouldn’t have let a few fancy appetizers, wandering cameras, and a hot blonde scare me away from the goal line.”

“Is that a football reference? Because I don’t do football
 
—”

“But you do cook.
We
cook. And we’ll be an amazing team if we can just get a chance to compete. I wanna call Keoni and tell him that we want our interview. I’ll beg him if I have to.”

“What are you talking about? We
had
our interview. You talked with Chef Rogers on the lanai, and Tonie already knows I can cook. Not to mention Keoni was the one who pushed us into this in the first place.”

She stared at him. “What are you saying?”

“Those are the judges, Grace. And if they like us, we’re in.”

Her eyes went big. “I hope they like us.”

“They will,” he said. “They’ll love us.”

She smiled, something soft and perfect and brilliant in the moonlight, and he wished for a wave to knock him over and sweep him out to sea.

Or maybe he’d already been swept away.

F
OR THE FIRST TIME IN HER LIFE,
Raina had found a place she might actually belong.

Or at least be needed.

Since Casper had bought her coffee in an attempt to warm her after her dip in the cool Lake Superior water, Raina had learned four things.

One. Casper might be pegged as the town Casanova, but he’d turned into a gentleman around her. Which made her wonder if Liza had him confused with Owen.

Two. Raina possessed latent dragon boat paddling skills.

Three. Casper desperately needed help garnering his team’s confidence if he wanted to win back the Evergreen Resort dragon boat trophy.

Four. She, despite her past with Christiansen men, wanted to help him earn said confidence. Especially after his enthusiasm at her idea to have paddle training onshore.

No more live-water practices until they learned to work together, in rhythm. She’d followed with a suggestion that he have a team barbecue after their first in-water practice.

The team had invested in the cookout idea and eagerly assembled by the lake after Saturday’s practice, more interested in eating than paddling, perhaps. The Huestons brought a pasta salad; Claire and Jensen provided soda; the Deckers furnished fresh chocolate chip cookies.

It felt like a family reunion. Especially with the campfire crackling on the shore, mingling with the laughter and hum of conversation among the team members seated in camp chairs and Adirondack chairs around the flames.

If only Raina didn’t feel like the cousin no one knew. But maybe with her decisive action to help save the team spirit, she might be grafted in.

Unless, that was, she let the hamburgers burn.

“Turn the flame down!” She rushed over to the grill, where Casper manned the spatula, reached around him, and turned down the heat. A char had already formed on the meat, the scent of the garlic powder turning acrid.

“Sorry. I thought they weren’t cooking fast enough,” Casper said.

Raina put the lid down. “Trust me. Trap the heat, and in a minute or so, flip them.” She handed him her special recipe barbecue sauce
 
—a tangy concoction she’d experimented with for days before getting right. “Then brush this on them. I’ll be back to check your work.” She smiled, winked.

Shoot, what was wrong with her, adding that wink?

She’d clearly lost her head. The last thing she needed was Casper flirting with her.

Except, why
hadn’t
he hit on her once in the past week? Was she that repulsive?

Casper grinned in response. “Thanks, Raina. You’re a lifesaver.”

Yeah, whatever. But his words wouldn’t leave her as she returned to laying out the buffet in the picnic shelter. The large Tupperware container held Noelle’s salad, with corkscrew pasta and green olives, and Raina uncovered a plate of Annalise’s cookies under cellophane. Oh, someone had added caramel bars
 
—she guessed that was Ingrid’s contribution.

John and Ingrid had shown up today with Tiger
 
—Darek and Ivy still on their honeymoon. They’d put a life jacket on the six-year-old and set him between them in the boat, an extra incentive for everyone to work together. It worked
 
—the kid possessed a sort of magic charm because the team not only paddled in unison, but on the last run, crossed the bay in record time.

Team Evergreen might just win this crazy event.

Raina returned to the grill, opened the lid. The rich scent of the garlic-and-seasoned-salt marinade on the burgers could call a dead man to the table for supper. “You can turn them now.”

“Aye, aye,” Casper said.

“Funny.” But she watched as he flipped them. “Yum.”

He closed the top. Turned to her. “No, I’m serious. I think we’re finally getting it. I might be the captain, but you’re definitely first mate. Thanks for not letting me give up.”

Like she would give up on this man. His very eyes held her captive. Blue like the lake and with the power to take her under, too. He’d grown his dark hair a little long, covered today by a red bandanna tied at the corners like a candy wrapper. The ends
curled out the back. He wore swim trunks and flip-flops and over everything an apron that added an odd domestic appeal to his rugged exterior, the one accentuated by the lime-green team T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. His arms evidenced all his hard work rebuilding the family resort, a farmer’s tan now fading after a day on the lake . . . It all had the power to stun her a little.

And yes, conspired to make her want to help him.

So much for her swearing off Christiansen men.

“Should I add the sauce?” he asked.

“Yes, just dab some on each burger, close the lid for another minute or so, and they’ll be ready. I’ll grab a serving platter.”

She found a plate and was returning when she saw Colleen Decker sidle up to Casper. A pretty girl, athletic. Raina had overheard talk about her attending St. Scholastica in Duluth in the fall on a volleyball scholarship. She wore athletic shorts and a dragon boat T-shirt rolled up at the sleeves and cropped to show off her toned midsection.

Colleen stared at Casper as if he might be the man of her dreams. She held out a plate. “Are the burgers ready?”

“Nope. Not yet,” Raina said, speaking past the strange bite in her throat. “I’ll dish them up and put them on the buffet.”

Colleen frowned at her, then refocused on Casper, her expression about as transparent as cellophane. “So are you going to the dragon boat street dance? I hear the Blue Monkeys are playing.”

“Probably. You’ll have to save me a dance.” He smiled, and Colleen cast a look at Raina, ownership in it.

Of course, everyone in Deep Haven belonged to each other in a way.

“Platter?” Casper said as he opened the lid to the grill. Colleen stepped back and Raina held out the plate for the burgers.

“Can you tell everyone dinner is ready?” she asked Colleen.

Colleen narrowed her eyes but returned to the congregation by the fire.

“She likes you,” Raina said, not sure why she’d mentioned that.

“I know,” Casper said. He finished plating the last burger. “I heard she and her longtime boyfriend, Tucker, are on the outs. I sort of thought he joined the team to get her attention, but it doesn’t seem to be working. Or maybe she’s trying to make him jealous; I don’t know. Trust me
 
—she’ll get over it.” He smiled again, and well, Raina could hardly blame the girl, really.

She liked him too.

The crowd gathered around the banquet, and just as Raina was about to take a plate and start self-serving, Casper announced prayer.

Prayer. Okay, right. She’d seen him in church, a few rows behind Liza’s pew. She hadn’t really expected him to bring God outside Sunday, however.

Still, she bowed her head, prayed with them, surprised at how many echoed his
amen
.

She served herself, then brought her plate over to the campfire, finding a perch on a log. One by one, her team joined her.

Claire sat on the folding camp chair she and Jensen had retrieved from their truck. “These are amazing burgers, Raina. I love the sauce. Did you work as a chef in Minneapolis? That’s where you’re from, right?”

Across from her, Eli and Noelle Hueston took chairs, and beside them, their son Kyle and his wife, Emma, their drummer. “I used to live in Minneapolis,” Emma said. She forked pasta into her mouth. “Yum.”

“Yeah. I grew up in Minneapolis,” Raina said, hoping they’d move on. “I worked here and there as a chef. But it’s an easy recipe. Just some brown sugar, molasses, honey, Worcestershire sauce, mustard, liquid smoke
 
—stir it together, add salt and pepper.”

“Oh, I have to have a recipe. I could never throw anything together like that,” Annalise Decker said, sitting on a bench across the fire. “To just guess? That takes special talent.” She smiled at Raina. “This was a great idea, by the way. Thanks.”

The water lapped the shore, a family of seagulls landing nearby, hungry, watching for dropped tidbits. The smell of campfire smoke tinged the misty evening air, the coals crackling as the sunlight flamed across the lake.

The conversation turned to past dragon boat races, other teams, then a rating of the annual fish burger stand and an opinion on the new cupcakes at the donut shop. Raina listened, quiet, soaking in the sense of family, even laughing at the inside jokes.

Casper stood just outside the ring, eating his burger and looking on, a strange smile on his face.

She glanced at him now and again, and he met her eyes once. She heard them then, his words from before.

I might be the captain, but you’re definitely first mate.

First mate.

She finished her burger, collected a few empty plates, and found the trash. She overheard Casper talking about the next practice, then saw Jensen and Claire, Kyle and Emma packing up their folding chairs. Noelle retrieved her bowl of pasta, and Annalise distributed the remainder of the cookies to the crowd. Raina didn’t realize how focused she was on cleaning until she looked up again and realized the majority of the team had left.

Including, it seemed, Casper.

Without saying good-bye. At least not to her.

Only John and Ingrid remained. Tiger stood on the shore, throwing rocks into the lake.

She tried not to let Casper’s escape bother her as she bundled up the garbage.

John retrieved the bag from her. “Great dinner,” he said.

She managed a smile.

Ingrid found her empty container of caramel bars. Her blonde hair pulled back with a headband, she wore a pair of capris, the oversize lime-green team T-shirt like a tunic. In a way, Ingrid reminded Raina of so many of the PTA mothers who had lined up in their minivans, picking up kids after school.

Raina had walked home after school, her key dangling from a string around her neck. She’d never had a PTA mother.

But she’d wanted one.

“Raina, you are turning out to be the Christiansen family’s secret weapon! First you help Grace pull together a delicious wedding dinner, and now you’re helping Casper build team spirit. We just might have to adopt you.” Ingrid gave her a one-armed hug before following John out to their Caravan, leaving Raina alone with the now-doused fire, the empty picnic shell.

The seagulls moved in, picking up the picnic scraps, the sun falling behind the clouds, the sky a mottled, bloody red.

Raina shooed away the gulls, sat down at the fire, picked up a stick to poke at it. John had doused it with water, so the embers swam in an ashy-gray stew.

Heat pressed her eyes. One minute she’d been in the middle of the conversation
 
—okay, on the edge listening, but here, on the team. The next . . . Despite Ingrid’s words, it felt like the story of her life. She got up to check the area for any more garbage, threw
out a couple runaway napkins, then headed toward the beach to walk home.

Behind her, tires crunched on gravel. “Raina!”

She looked up. Casper got out of his truck, closing the door. He jogged over to her. “Where are you going?”

She blinked, fast, hard, not wanting him to see the moisture in her eyes. “Home?”

“On such a beautiful night? Don’t you want to see the best place in all of Deep Haven to watch the sunset?”

He stood there, twirling his key chain, grinning as if they’d planned this, a friendly sunset date. Or maybe they had
 
—she had a faint recollection of him mentioning the sunset today at practice. He’d been serious?

She frowned. “But . . . you left.”

“Sorry. I had to run to the office and pay for our use of the picnic shelter. I forgot and I didn’t want them to think we were running off, leaving the bill behind.”

She stared at him.

“What?”

“It’s just . . . you aren’t at all the guy I thought you were.”

“Who did you think I was?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now.” She glanced toward the setting sun, not sure if she should give him an out. “I think people had a good time
 
—”

“Are you kidding? They had a great time. Now c’mon . . .”

Before she could stop him, he’d reached out, taken her hand. And then they were walking along the beach, like a couple.

It took her a second to catch up. He had strong hands, the kind used to hard work, and she was just about to tighten her grip when he let hers go.

Oh.

“Most people don’t know about this secret sunset-watching getaway. They come down to the harbor and sit on the beach. But there’s this little path here . . .”

He led her down the rocky shoreline, past a boat launch to a tiny trail through the woods. He held back a branch and she followed the path.

It emerged only thirty feet later onto another beach.

“See, the land sort of juts out to the south, and most people walk out on the rocks there. But trust me
 
—this is the view you want.” He took her hand again
 
—this time she didn’t read anything into it
 
—and led her to a grouping of boulders, a shelf of rock that slid out into the lake, the water caught in pockets and crannies. He stopped at a couple tall rocks and lifted her easily on top of one, then climbed up beside her.