Chapter 7

SEVEN

Falcon changed his mind and headed toward the ocean instead of his truck.

He found the stairway down to the water, and decided to be civilized and use them instead of slamming his way down the dune. He jogged down the steps, his boots thudding on the weathered boards.

He reached the sand and strode to the water’s edge, letting the low tide hit his boots.

Eyes closed, he raised his arms up, breathing in the salt air, the ocean breeze, the roar of the surf.

Bella was lost to him.

He’d waited too long.

She didn’t even want him on her couch as friends. Fuck. Did he not even have her as a friend anymore? He was that tainted?

His timing had sucked.

He should have listened to Brody.

He’d spent the last twenty years learning to listen to his instincts, his guides, and he’d thrown himself into this situation without listening to Brody, without getting the green light from his guides.

He’d just run as fast as he could toward Bella in the very moment she would want him the absolute least.

Maybe she was right to cut him off.

If she really wanted nothing to do with the ranch anymore, with her past, what did he have to offer? All he had was their past. He had no idea what his future would be. Could be. Should be.

She wanted fun and laughter. He didn’t even know what that was anymore.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared across the ocean.

As he stood there, his hands began to burn.

His palms more specifically.

No.

No.

No.

He immediately turned away and began walking down the beach.

His hands kept burning.

Shit.

He hunched his shoulders, bent his head, and walked faster, like he was shoving his way through a thick sludge.

Before he knew it, he was running, sprinting down the beach, racing away from whatever was making his hands burn, from the future he didn’t have, from everything he was.

He kept running, harder, faster, an all-out-sprint. His legs burning, the ocean splashing up under his feet, his lungs aching.

He ran until he couldn’t breathe, until he finally dropped to his knees and shoved his hands into the wet sand. He knew he hadn’t run that far, but he’d run so fast that he’d burned himself out.

Maybe a mile. Or two. Three? He had no idea.

He let the cold, wet sand ease the burning in his hands, hoping it would stop.

Eventually it always did. Then the headache would come, but he could live with the headache.

He bowed his head. Waiting for it to ease.

“Falcon?”

He bolted to his feet, staggering to keep his balance. He spun around and saw Bella standing on the deck of a little house above the beach. She was wearing the same outfit that she’d been wearing at the party. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“This is the cottage I rented,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He almost started laughing to himself. Of course, he had to run toward her house and run out of gas right in front of it.

“Why were you down on your knees looking like you’re about to die?”

“I never look like I’m about to die.” He stood taller, trying to slow his breathing, but he’d run himself into the ground, so it was a little tricky.

She leaned on the railing. “It’s fate, you know.”

“What is?”

“That you ran here. I went after you to tell you it was all right for you to crash on my couch, but you’d disappeared.” She smiled. “I had no idea you were going to run the beach and meet me here. My bad. Totally missed that.”

Stunned relief shot through him. Hell, yeah. He shrugged. “Yeah, don’t know how we didn’t have clear communication on that one.”

“Where’s your overnight bag?”

“In my truck. I was going to run here, run back there, get my truck, and then drive here. It seemed like the simplest way to do it.”

“Absolutely.” She waved. “All right. I’m going in. I’ll see you when you’re back.” Then she turned, walked back into the cottage, and shut the door.

Falcon stood there staring after her, then he broke into a grin. Hell, yeah. He sent up a quick thanks to the stars, and then turned and began to jog back down the beach.

Bella snuck back onto the deck, watching as Falcon jogged down the beach again.

She chuckled as she watched him. He was literally going to run back and get his truck. He could have asked for a ride, but he hadn’t.

Because the man never asked for help on anything.

She leaned on the railing, watching him go.

He was so athletic. He was leaner, she realized, just like Piper had said. But as he ran, there was something lighter about him. Something…different.

Maybe it wasn’t that he was thinking of her naked.

Maybe it was something else.

Did she want him thinking of her naked? No. Yes. No. Yes.

Dammit.

She smacked her hands on the railing.

She was definitely going to have to be asleep before he got back. She’d leave the door open, put the sheets out for him, and then be asleep.

But as she headed inside, she couldn’t help but smile.

She was glad he was crashing on her couch. Why was she glad?

Because he felt like home. Nothing else.

With Falcon on her couch, she could get a touch of home while still being free to figure out who she was.

That was it.

Nothing else.

He was home in a non-pressure way.

He definitely wasn’t six-pack abs, corded thighs, and broad shoulders.

Definitely not.