Chapter Nine
“I have a confession to make,” Jay said when he picked up his fork to dig into the lava cake, dusted with powdered sugar and decorated with fresh raspberries.
Alyssa eyed him warily. “A confession along the lines of ‘I’m not a big fan of raspberries’ or more like ‘I’m on the FBI’s most wanted list’?”
“Somewhere in between those options, although definitely closer to the raspberries.”
“Okay,” she said.
“When you met my friends last weekend, did you sense any...friction?”
“You mean, between you and Kevin?”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said. “Well, me, Kevin, Carter and Matt all played high school football together.”
“You’ve been friends for a long time,” she noted.
“We have—aside from a brief period in our junior year when Kevin stopped talking to me.”
“I’m guessing there was a girl.”
He nodded. “Her name was Lacey Bolton. She wasn’t a cheerleader or an athlete—she was just a pretty girl who sat in front of Kevin in English class.”
“He had a crush on her,” Alyssa guessed.
“And she had no idea he even existed, because she was more interested in school than boys. But Kevin was smart and patient, and he had a plan. He asked for her help with a term paper, and they started to get together for study sessions once a week.
“We all ribbed him about taking it slow, but it was obvious he really liked her and was gearing up to ask her to the homecoming dance.”
“I’ve only been here for one homecoming,” she acknowledged. “But I know what a big deal it is.”
“Especially to the football players, who are in the spotlight all weekend. Win or lose, they’re the heroes. All the guys want to play on the team, and all the girls want to go out with the players.”
“You were quarterback,” she guessed.
“First string,” he confirmed. “But I got sacked in the season opener and went down with an ankle sprain. Gilmore took my place on the roster—and my girlfriend.”
“Apparently there’s some recent animosity between the Blakes and the Gilmores,” she mused.
“Getting dumped was hard enough,” he admitted. “Losing Jenny to Gilmore made it that much harder. Not only would I have to sit on the sidelines for the big game, I’d be sitting alone.
“And because I was feeling so crappy about the whole situation, I decided that gave me a free pass for crappy behavior.”
“What did you do?” she asked, clearly anticipating something bad.
“I asked Lacey to be my date for the homecoming dance—and she said yes.”
She winced. “How long did it take Kevin to forgive you?”
“A very long time,” he admitted. “And recently I did something that brought it all back again.”
“Made another move on Lacey Bolton?”
“No. I made a move on you.”
She looked taken aback by his confession. “When did you make a move on me?”
“Well, technically, you made the move when you kissed me, but Kevin doesn’t seem concerned with technicalities.”
“You told your friend that I kissed you?”
“No,” he denied. “But he was at The Daily Grind when Megan Carmichael told Kenzie Atkins that she saw me kissing you at Diggers’.”
Alyssa sighed. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected to kiss a guy in a public place and not have people take notice.” She sipped her wine. “Do you want me to explain it to...Kevin?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that will help.”
“So what was the purpose of telling me the story?” she wondered.
“He’d never admit it, but Kevin’s a romantic,” Jay told her. “And he seems willing to forgive what he sees as my betrayal if I can convince him that I was motivated by real feelings for you.”
“If he’s known you for so many years, shouldn’t he know that you don’t do real feelings?”
He arched a brow.
“Just stating what seems to be a well-known fact,” she told him.
“Like I said, Kevin’s a romantic. But to prove to him that this isn’t another Lacey Bolton situation, I have to date you, exclusively, up to and including Matt’s wedding.”
“You’re serious,” she realized.
He nodded grimly.
“The seemingly out-of-the-blue invitation to your friend’s wedding makes a little more sense now.”
“You didn’t believe that I just wanted you to be my date?”
She shook her head. “Guys like you don’t make plans with a girl that far into the future, because you’re never sure that you’ll be with that same girl by the time the event comes around.”
“That’s a little harsh,” he noted.
“Maybe it is,” she acknowledged. “But I doubt it’s untrue.”
“Well, since we have a date two months into the future—and the meeting with your parents before then—we’re going to need more practice.”
She eyed him warily. “Kissing?”
He grinned. “That, too,” he agreed. “But what I meant was just hanging out and being together.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” she acknowledged.
“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Good. I should be finished work by three, so we’ll plan to leave here around four,” he decided.
“To go where?” she wondered.
“It’s a surprise.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Are you going to make me play laser tag or go rock climbing?”
“Those are both good ideas,” he said. “But no—not tomorrow.”
He’d already introduced her to paintball, and though she’d been apprehensive in the beginning—perhaps more about meeting his friends than potentially being hit by paintballs—she’d willingly geared up. Nat had given her a quick lesson on her weapon—how to load and aim and shoot—then spent some time with her at the target range before announcing that she was ready to go.
Alyssa had loved the game and, afterward, had shown off the various colorful bruises that were evidence of the hits she’d taken. He’d winced at the blue and yellow blemishes that marred her smooth skin, but she’d been proud of her battle scars. Having been held back from trying new things or pushing physical limits for so many years because her parents had worried—despite the doctors’ reassurances—that her heart wasn’t completely fixed, she seemed eager to do and try anything. Which, of course, made him wonder if she’d exhibit the same curiosity and eagerness in the bedroom—a prospect that was too torturous to contemplate for long.
Aside from the almost offhand admission that she’d been born with a hole in her heart, her medical condition wasn’t something she talked about. And while he understood that the surgeries had happened a lot of years earlier and weren’t likely at the forefront of her mind, he’d noticed that she always dressed in a way that ensured any remaining scars weren’t visible.
Admittedly curious after the night that she’d bumped Carter from the Tetris leaderboard, he’d done an internet search of “atrial septal defect” and “heart surgery scars.” What he’d learned had given him some appreciation for what Alyssa deemed overprotectiveness on the part of her parents, and renewed respect for the woman who had exhibited determination and courage in building a life for herself free of anyone else’s restrictions.
“If you’re not going to tell me where we’re going, can you at least give me a hint as to what I should wear?” she asked him now.
“Whatever you want.”
She huffed out a breath. “Could you be any less helpful?”
“Stiletto heels and a very short skirt,” he suggested.
“Apparently you can be less helpful,” she decided.
He grinned. “We’re probably going to be outside, so wear something comfortable and appropriate for the weather.”
“When you say outside, do you mean in a paintball field?”
He chuckled. “Not this time.”
“Oh,” she said.
And he thought she sounded almost disappointed.
* * *
It was May, but what was “appropriate for the weather” in northern Nevada was very different than Southern California. In Irvine, she would have packed her winter clothes away long ago. In Haven, though the sun provided welcome warmth during the day, temperatures tended to drop quickly and steeply when it went down.
After some consideration, Alyssa opted for a long-sleeved peasant-style blouse over a pair of slim-fitting pants with short, low-heeled boots. She used a light hand with her makeup and added a spritz of her favorite perfume.
Jason greeted her with a quick kiss.
He’d been kissing her a lot over the past few weeks, though the kisses had mostly just been casual brushes of his lips. And he’d been touching her frequently, too—holding her hand, draping an arm over her shoulders or just sitting close enough so that their bodies touched. And if his intent was to get her accustomed to those easy kisses and casual touches, she thought it was succeeding.
Unfortunately, instead of inuring her to the effects, her awareness of—and attraction to—him was growing every day, and she was starting to worry that she might get too used to these casual displays of affection and start to believe their phony relationship was real.
“Are you going to tell me now where we’re going?” she asked after they’d been driving for several minutes.
“Twelve-oh-two Miners’ Pass.”
“That doesn’t really answer my question,” she noted.
“It very specifically answers your question,” he argued.
“Okay—what is at twelve-oh-two Miners’ Pass?” she asked.
“A house.”
She rolled her eyes. “And do you happen to know who lives at this house?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
She counted slowly to ten while she watched the scenery pass outside her window, but of course, he didn’t offer any more information. “Are you going to tell me who lives at this house?”
“I am,” he confirmed. “But not until we’re a little closer to our destination, because I don’t want you to freak out about meeting my parents.”
“I don’t freak out,” she said, ignoring the knots that suddenly tightened in her belly. “And why am I meeting your parents?”
“It seemed reasonable that if I’m going to meet your parents, I should introduce you to mine.”
“This wasn’t part of our agreement.”
“But it was your idea,” he said. “When I suggested reciprocity, you asked if I wanted to introduce you to my parents.”
“I was joking.”
“Well, I didn’t know you were joking. And when my mom invited me to come over for a barbecue, I decided that having you there would increase the odds of the afternoon being tolerable.
“That sounded harsh,” he realized. “And they’re really not so bad. A little pretentious and self-absorbed at times, but generally friendly. Besides, it seemed like a good opportunity to give the boyfriend-girlfriend thing a trial run.”
“What did you tell your parents about me?” she finally asked.
“Nothing.”
“Did you even tell them that I was coming?”
“Nope.”
He turned into a wide stamped-concrete driveway in front of a gorgeous three-story stone-and-brick house, the grandeur of which made her forget—for just a moment—the topic of their conversation.
“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” she said when he killed the engine.
He exited the truck and came around to open her door, reaching across to unsnap her seat belt when she made no move to do so herself.
“Relax, honey bear. We’re just here for a burger. My mom’s a horrible cook, but my dad does a decent job with meat over fire.”
“I’m not sure I believe you,” Alyssa said, ignoring the teasing endearment.
“It’s true,” a female voice said from behind him. “Our mother could scorch a pot attempting to boil water.”
Alyssa stepped out of the vehicle and turned to face a woman who could only be Jason’s sister. Average height, slender build, light blond hair, deep blue eyes like her brother’s and the same quick smile. Regan, she guessed, since he’d told her that Brielle lived in New York and rarely returned to Haven.
Of course, Alyssa had been doubting his reasons for bringing her here, not the truth of his culinary commentary, but she didn’t have a chance to clarify as Jason was already making the introductions.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Instead of offering a hand, Regan gave Alyssa a quick hug. Then she turned to her brother to remark, “And surprising, because you don’t have that blank look in your eyes that Jay usually favors in the women he dates.”
“Try to make a good first impression,” he said. “Oh, wait—too late.”
Regan just grinned, unrepentant, and hooked her arm through Alyssa’s. “Come on,” she said. “Everyone’s dying to meet you.”
“But—” She looked helplessly back at Jason.
“I didn’t tell Mom and Dad that I was bringing a guest,” he noted.
“But you told me,” Regan reminded him.
“My mistake, obviously,” he noted.
“You know how Mom is about surprises,” his sister said. “And if she found out that I knew about Alyssa and didn’t tell her, she’d never forgive me.”
“You mean she’d be annoyed with you, for all of about thirty seconds.”
“I’m a middle child—desperate for approval,” she said by way of explanation.
“You’re the second oldest and a troublemaker,” he countered.
“Actually, I’m ‘the smart one,’” Regan told Alyssa, using air quotes. “Jason’s ‘the stubborn one,’ Spencer’s ‘the slippery one’ and Brie’s ‘the sweet one.’”
Alyssa wondered if her own parents had ever described her and Cristina in similarly generic terms. If they had, she had no doubt what they would be. Her sister was “the perfect one” and she was “the broken one.”
But she didn’t feel broken when she was with Jason. When she was with him, she felt not just like a normal person but an attractive and desirable woman. And she knew that regardless of how or when they put an end to their relationship charade, she would always be grateful to him for that.
* * *
Jason’s mention of burgers implied a casual meal. But apparently dining with Ben and Margaret Channing meant eating off gold-rimmed plates at an enormous table in the formal dining room lit by a chandelier that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a hotel ballroom.
“And what is it that you do, dear?” Margaret asked Alyssa as she spooned coleslaw out of a crystal bowl, using a fancy slotted spoon that looked like real silver.
Alyssa added a slice of tomato to her burger. “I’m a math and science teacher at Westmount High School.”
“I loved math, hated science,” Regan said.
“Even physics?” Alyssa asked her.
“I didn’t take physics,” she admitted. “My guidance counsellor steered me toward chemistry.”
“If you like math—and obviously you do,” she said, remembering that Jason’s sister was an accountant, “you’d like physics.”
“Our youngest daughter, Brielle, is a teacher,” Ben said.
Alyssa nodded. “Jason mentioned that she lives in New York.”
“And teaches at a prestigious private school in Brooklyn,” Margaret confirmed. “In fact, they’ve already offered to renew her contract for next year.”
“That’s good news,” Jay said.
His parents exchanged a look.
“She loves teaching at Briarwood,” Regan reminded them.
“Which would be great, if Briarwood wasn’t twenty-five hundred miles away.” Margaret shook her head. “We should never have agreed to let her go to New York City.”
“We couldn’t have stopped her,” her husband pointed out. “She was eighteen—and determined to put as much distance as possible between herself and Haven.”
“We didn’t have to make it easy for her.”
“I don’t think it was easy,” Ben said.
“I mean financially,” Margaret clarified. “We paid her tuition and all her living expenses.”
“Same as we did for each of our other children.”
“Except Spencer,” Regan chimed in. “Who decided he’d rather ride bareback than read or write.”
“Our youngest son left college to become a professional cowboy,” Ben explained to Alyssa.
“At least you know Brie’s got great roommates and a nice apartment,” Jay pointed out. “Spencer lives out of a suitcase, and more than half the time, you don’t even know where that suitcase is.”
“But he’s been very successful,” Margaret said to Alyssa. “After dinner, you should let Jason take you into the den and show you some of Spencer’s trophies.”
“Yeah, because that’s going to score him points with his girlfriend,” Regan said mockingly. “Showing her his little brother’s hardware.”
“Jason won his share of trophies, too,” Margaret said, though her defense of her oldest son was a little tepid.
“For throwing a football around,” Regan said.
“He also graduated summa cum laude with a degree in business,” Ben said. “Which would make him a real asset at Blake Mining.”
“Can we possibly have one family meal where we don’t rehash the same arguments?” Jason asked wearily.
“I’m sure that degree is one of the reasons he’s made Adventure Village such a success in a short time,” Alyssa remarked.
Ben let out a derisive snort. “He bought an empty field where fake soldiers shoot at each other with fake guns.”
She could sense Jason seething and reached over to put her hand on his arm. “Paintball might not be everyone’s idea of a good time,” she acknowledged. “But it’s certainly popular with a lot of people.”
“Teenagers,” Ben said dismissively.
“Who, according to the teachers at Westmount, finally have something to do with their time other than tagging buildings and stealing cars.”
“And it’s not just paintball,” Regan pointed out. “There’s also laser tag and a climbing wall.”
“And mini golf,” Alyssa added.
“It’s a fine hobby,” Ben finally allowed. “I’m just saying that Jason’s time and talent would be put to better use at Blake Mining.”
“I worked at Blake Mining for six years,” Jay reminded his father. “In the mines, in the lab, in the office—and I hated every job.”
“If work was supposed to be fun, it wouldn’t be called work,” his father said.
“Dessert?” Margaret spoke up quickly to interrupt what was apparently a familiar dispute.
“You made dessert?” Regan asked cautiously.
“Of course not,” her mother said, as if the very idea was ridiculous. “Celeste prepared everything we need for strawberry shortcake. I just have to put it together.”
“I’ll give you a hand,” her daughter offered.
* * *
“Sorry about the side of family drama served with your burger,” Jay said to Alyssa as they drove home from his parents’ house.
“I’m not unfamiliar with family conflict,” she reminded him. “And while your dad clearly wishes you’d chosen a career in a different direction, your mom seems happy with your choices.”
“I don’t know if she’s happy or just unwilling to express her displeasure, in case I decide to follow in the footsteps of Spencer or Brie.”
“Did you ever want to leave Haven?” she asked curiously.
“Sure. When I was a teenager and there was nothing to do, I hated this town and promised myself I’d get out at the first opportunity. So imagine my surprise when I went away to school and discovered that I actually missed it. That got me thinking about why I wanted to leave and what would make me—and a lot more people like me—want to stay.”
“And that’s how Adventure Village started?”
“I guess it was,” he admitted. “Well, the idea plus the trust fund from my grandfather.”
He pulled into their shared driveway and parked.
“I’m going to sit outside for a while,” he said. “I usually need to clear my head after too much time with my family.”
“Three hours is too much time?”
“By about two hours,” he confirmed.
“Do you want some company?” Alyssa asked.
“I wouldn’t mind.”
“Just let me go in and grab a sweater,” she said.
“No need,” he told her. “I’ve got one in my duffel bag in the back—it’s clean, I promise.”
He opened the back door, unzipped the bag and pulled out the sweatshirt. She tugged it over her head.
His lips twitched as he helped her roll back the cuffs to free her hands. The bear logo covered her chest and the hem fell to midthigh. “I guess it’s a little big.”
“But it’s warm.” She glanced down at the crest. “My sister went to UC Berkeley, too.”
“Where’d you go to school?”
“UC Irvine,” she replied.
“You didn’t want to go away?” he asked.
“I desperately wanted to go away,” she admitted. “But my mom worried about me being too far from the doctors who knew my medical history.”
“How’d she react when you told her you were moving to Nevada?” he wondered.
“She wasn’t thrilled—and even less so when she realized the nearest hospital was thirty-five miles away and didn’t have a cardiologist on staff.”
“You weren’t worried?”
She shook her head. “No, because I believed the doctors who said my heart is fine. I don’t need constant reassurances or reminders of something that happened a long time ago.”
Maybe it was the dark. Maybe it was that he knew her better than he had a few weeks earlier and felt comfortable enough now to be able to voice the question that had been on his mind since she told him about her surgery.
Whatever the reason, he finally asked, “Is that why you hide your scars?”