Warner football. When she left, I lost my ride, and I had to walk four miles to practice if nobody picked me up on the highway. That turned out to be a good thing, though. I ended up with a lot more endurance than the other guys. I wasn't the strongest, and I wasn't the fastest, but I never gave up, and that was a powerful life lesson.'
'Sometimes knowing when to give up is the real test of character.'
She might as well not have spoken. 'Joyce, she taught me how to smoke and a few other things she shouldn't have, but she had some problems, and I try not to hold it against her.'
'It's too late for this.'
'The thing is…' He looked at the dock, not at her, and studied the boards at his feet. 'Sooner or later, every one of those women I loved left. I don't know. Maybe I wouldn't be where I am today if one of them had stuck.' As he gazed back up at her, his old belligerence returned. 'I learned early on that nobody was going to hand me anything. It made me tough.'
But no tougher than she was. She steeled herself and rose to her feet. 'You deserved a better childhood, but I can't change what happened. Those years shaped who you are. I can't fix that. And I can't fix you.'
'I don't need to be fixed anymore. That job's already been done. I love you, Annabelle.'
The pain was nearly more than she could bear. He was only saying what he knew she wanted to hear, and she didn't believe him, not for a second. His words were carefully calculated, chosen for the sole purpose of closing a deal. 'No, you really don't,' she managed. 'You just hate not getting your way.'
'It's not that.'
'Winning is everything to you. The joy of the kill is your life's blood.'
'Not when it comes to you.'
'Don't do this! It's cruel. You know who you are.' Her eyes filled with tears. 'But I know who I am, too. I'm a woman who won't settle for second place. I want the best,' she said softly. 'And you're not it.'
He looked as though she'd slapped him. Despite her own pain, she hadn't wanted to hurt him, but one of them needed to speak the truth. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered. 'I won't spend my life waiting around for your leftovers. This time persistence isn't going to get the job done.'
He didn't try to stop her as she left the dock. When she reached the sand, she crisscrossed her sweater over her chest and hurried toward the woods, ordering herself not to look back. But as she stepped onto the path, she couldn't help herself.
The dock stood empty. Everything still. The only movement came from a bunch of balloons drifting off into the bleak October sky.
It didn't take her long to pack. A tear dripped on her hand as she zipped the suitcase. She was so sick of crying. She picked up the bag and made her way numbly out the front door. With each step she took, she reminded herself that she'd never give up who she was for anyone. She came to a dead stop. Especially not for a man who'd blocked in her car with a sporty silver Audi…
He'd done a good job of it. A giant oak kept her from moving forward, and the Audi prevented her from going in reverse. The temporary Illinois tags left no doubt whose work this was. She couldn't bear another encounter with him, and she dragged her suitcase back inside the cottage, but she'd barely set it down before she heard tires on gravel. She went to the window, but it wasn't Heath. Instead, she glimpsed a dark blue sports car coming to a stop behind the Audi. The woods extended just far enough to block her view of whichever guest had decided to explore the campground.
It was all too much. She sank down on the couch and buried her face in her hands. Why did he have to make everything harder?
Light footsteps tapped on the porch, too light to be Heath's. She heard a knock. Dragging her feet, she rose, crossed the room, opened the door… and screamed. To her credit, it wasn't a horror movie scream, more of a yelpy kind of gaspy thing.
'I know,' a familiar voice said. 'I've had better days.'
Annabelle took an involuntary step backward. 'You're blue.'
'A cosmetic procedure. It's beginning to peel. May I come in?'
Annabelle moved aside. Even without her blue face, which had begun to crack like a cheap alligator purse, Portia hardly looked her best. Her inky hair lay flat against her head, clean but not styled. Her white sweater had a fresh coffee stain on the front. She'd gained weight, and her jeans were a size too tight.
Portia took in the cottage. 'Have you talked to Heath?'
'What are you doing here?'
Portia walked toward the kitchen and poked her head in and out. 'Claiming my last introduction. You chose Delaney Lightfield. I choose you. Welcome to Power Matches. Let's see if we can find you some makeup? And a decent outfit wouldn't hurt, either.'
'You're nuts.'
She gave Annabelle a surprisingly cheerful smile. 'Yes, but not as nutty as I used to be. It's interesting. Once you've terrified a restaurant full of people-a Burger King near Benton Harbor-you're basically liberated from ever again worrying about keeping up appearances.'
'You went into a Burger King looking like this?'
'Potty stop. Plus Bodie dared me.'
'Bodie?'
She smiled, her blue lips making her very nice teeth look a little yellow. 'We're lovers. More than lovers. In love. Bizarre, I know, but I've never been happier. We're getting married. Well, he hasn't agreed yet, but he will.' She studied Annabelle more closely and frowned. 'From those red eyes, I can see you talked with Heath and that it didn't go well.'
'It went very well. I told him no and walked away.'
Portia threw up her hands. 'Why am I not surprised? Well, as of now, playtime is over. You amateurs have had your fun, but it's time to step aside and let a professional handle this.'
'You have clearly lost your mind, not to mention your looks.'
Surprisingly, Portia didn't take offense. 'My looks will be back in spades. Wait till you see what's underneath all this.'
'I'll have to take your word for it.'
'I told Heath not to talk to you without me, but he's pigheaded. And you… Of all people, you should have known to be more sensitive. Haven't you learned anything about this business? Two different men have ordered me not to call you a twit, but, honestly, Annabelle, if the shoe fits…'
She marched to the door. 'Thanks for stopping by. Sorry you have to leave so soon.'
Portia sat on the arm of the couch. 'Do you have any idea how much courage it took for him to accept the fact that he's fallen in love with you, let alone to come here and lay his heart on the line? And what did you do? Tossed his feelings right back in his face, didn't you? Extremely unwise, Annabelle, especially with Heath. He's very emotionally insecure. From what Bodie's told me, I suspect that's exactly what his subconscious expected you to do, and I don't think he'll have the guts to ask you again.'
'Insecure? He's the cockiest man in the universe.' But Portia had shaken her confidence, and the floor no longer felt quite so steady. 'He doesn't love me,' Annabelle said more forcefully. 'He just can't stand hearing anybody say no to him.'
'You're so wrong.' A voice spoke from behind her. She whipped around to see Bodie framed in the door. Unlike Portia, he was pulled together from head to toe in a gray sweater, great fitting jeans, and motorcycle boots.
Annabelle went on the attack. 'Did Heath send you to talk to me? It would be just like him to delegate another one of those messy personal tasks he dislikes so much.'
'She's a bit of a bitch,' Portia said to Bodie, as if Annabelle weren't in the room.
He lifted an eyebrow. 'Babe.'
Portia held out her hand. 'I know, I know… If she were a man, she'd be labeled aggressive. But honestly, Bodie, sometimes a bitch is just a bitch.'
'Exactly.'
Portia seemed amused. 'Point taken.'
He chuckled, and Annabelle began to feel like a tagalong at her own crisis. Bodie finally managed to drag his eyes away from Blue Girl. 'Heath doesn't know either one of us is here. I only found out where he'd gone through an accidental telephone conversation I had with Kevin's kid.' He slipped his arm around Portia's shoulders. 'The
