Falling Fast (Falling Fast #1) - Tina Wainscott Page 0,26

once-flowering plants. “Sometimes people want the things they can’t have.” He worked really hard not to look at Mia, but he could feel her watching him. “Let’s go inside and inventory what needs to be fixed or, as Nancy used to say, spruced up.”

Mia followed him in. “Yeah, she liked that expression.”

“She would say things like ‘You know, we should spruce up the front steps.’ I wanted to tell her that they needed more than sprucing up; they needed to be torn out completely. But I’d just nod and agree. Then I tore them out.”

She laughed softly. “Good for you. And for her.”

Their gazes locked, and he swallowed and forced himself to move on. He called out a few of the things he’d been wanting to fix for years and that Nancy put off doing. Didn’t he have better things to do than fix a crooked bracket? she’d say. Or “spruce up” the paint on the walls?

Mia paused by the fridge, where interspersed between the tourist magnets were pictures of her. Little-girl pictures that tugged at his heart. And there was one of her walking across the stage in cap and gown, her face still red and raw from the burns. That one tore at him, made him proud that she’d been brave enough to cross the stage. And agonized him that she had to struggle so much to get there.

“Kitchen cabinets need a coat of paint,” he said. “We should regrout the tile on the floors and replace the Formica countertops. The appliances are fairly new. We replaced them three years ago when her fridge gave out and they didn’t have avocado anymore.”

Mia wrinkled her nose as she wrote down what he’d said. “Ew! I can’t imagine how that color ever became popular.”

He took the opportunity to study her hands. Nails weren’t painted, but they were neatly filed and shiny. A gold ring adorned her pointer finger, with a small diamond and a cluster of red stones in the shape of a flower. Even though she came from money, she’d never been flashy.

He’d never seen that kind of money, her parents with their upscale rental cars, fine clothing, jewelry. Now it was more common, widows and neglected housewives sometimes bringing their cars in for maintenance, flashing their glitter and their too-white smiles, winking at him with fake eyelashes. Such capable hands. I have some maintenance things that need to be done. Maybe you could come out to my bungalow and screw in some lightbulbs for me?

Not him.

“Raleigh?”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“Do I even want to know what you were thinking about? You had a sort of sneer…” She tried to emulate it, though it looked adorable on her.

“I’m just getting hungry. Want to order a pizza?”

“Sure.” A long whining sound filled the air. She giggled, slapping her hand over her stomach. “Guess I’m hungry, too.”

Ah, that laugh again. She had laughed often during that summer, with every new experience. Well, not every one.

They finished their walk-through minutes before the pizza-delivery guy arrived. Raleigh paid, and she gathered some plates and napkins and met him out on the back deck.

“So, what is it about this furniture?” she asked, sitting down at the table. “I mean, it’s nice and all.” She ran her fingers down the synthetic wicker weave of her chair.

“It’s just the chaise lounge, really.” He pointed to it with the corner of the piece of pizza draped over his fingers. “I’d never seen one like that before I came here. Outdoor furniture that looks like indoor furniture. You remember the folding beach chairs I had at the trailer? That’s all I ever knew. This one is wide enough to sprawl out on, and the cushion’s like a cloud. I’d sometimes crash for the night on it when I’d been working late on the deck.”

“Do you still live in the trailer?”

“I built a cabin where the trailer used to be.” You should come out and see it sometime. Thankfully, he held in the casual invitation. That’s how it had started, a casual invite to watch him race. “It’s just a simple two-bedroom, but it feels more like a home than the trailer.”

“You are handy with a hammer.”

“Pax helped. And I helped him with fixing up the place he bought.”

She’d never talked about her home, but he imagined that it was big. Two or three stories, huge columns flanking the grand steps leading to massive front doors. And all he’d had to offer her back then was a trailer. She hadn’t seemed