Taking the Leap (River Rain 3)

The static and rushing started to return as I demanded, “Oh my God, do you think that’s why she’s back? Because he’s working with Trail Blazer?”

“I’ve no idea how a woman like that thinks,” Chloe sniffed. “Though, I know Rix is loving and devoted and now that the bad part is over, it could just be that it is over, and she wants the good stuff back.”

My Lord.

That…

Bitch.

“Therefore,” Chloe carried on, “she needs to see Rix with you. Moving on. Happy.” A meaningful pause. “Are you understanding me?”

“I am absolutely, one hundred percent understanding you,” I declared.

I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard her release a relieved breath before she said, “You leave it up to me how Peri sees you two together…repeatedly. But trust in me, I’ll make that happen.”

“Oh, I trust you.”

“I know this is asking a lot from you. You don’t tend—”

“He’s marvelous.”

“Pardon?”

I cleared my throat and said, “He’s a really good man.”

“Yes, I know.”

“What you’re asking might be the most important thing anyone has asked me to do.”

Chloe made no reply.

“When he meets her,” I began, “the woman that’s for him, and he will, she needs to be perfect. Not a woman like that. So he has to be free, especially emotionally, to be open to having that kind of good in his life.”

“Ummmmmmmm…” Chloe hummed, the sound lasting about ten seconds.

I took that as her not being certain I was up for the task, so when she quit making it, I told her, “It won’t be easy, but I can promise to do my best. And that would be my very best, Chloe.”

“Erm, okay, Alexandra.”

“I need to get over to his room. The man Rix is, he’s probably waiting on me to have breakfast.”

“I can guarantee you, he is.”

Again, I believed her.

Because that was the man Rix was.

And his fiancée fucking left him after he’d lost his legs.

My God, I hoped I was able to get a lock on it in my head before I saw her, because I honestly didn’t know what I’d do if I didn’t.

Fortunately, something occurred to me to take my mind from that, and quickly, I asked after it.

“I have to have my bridesmaid dress altered. It’ll be complicated. It’s a Marchesa and—”

“I’ll handle it,” she said. “Don’t make plans Saturday. We’ll probably have to go to Phoenix.”

“Right.”

“Alexandra?”

“Yes?”

“You’re also a good woman.”

Chloe Pierce was really neat. I knew a lot of women with a lot of money, a lot of beauty, a lot of style, and not one of them was like her.

So that coming from her meant a lot.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“See you Saturday.”

“Yes. ’Bye.”

“’Bye, Alex.”

We rang off.

I stared at my phone.

Then I shoved it in my back pocket and marched out the door.

I realized I was pretty much hammering on Rix’s when he opened it, asking, “Jesus, are the British coming?”

Ohmigod!

He was so funny.

And so lovable.

And so marvelous.

And his ex was such a bitch.

“That’s a fallacy,” I announced. “The colonists were British. So the call was that the redcoats were coming.”

He stared at me.

Then he asked, “Is everything okay?”

No, it was not.

He was astonishing.

Miraculous.

Life.

And his ex was a bitch.

“I might have to go down to Phoenix with Chloe on Saturday to get my bridesmaid dress altered,” I shared.

“Is that a dangerous mission? Are you wanted by the Phoenix police or something?” he inquired.

That got through, and I felt my lips twitch. “No.”

“Is there a long story behind this that maybe you can share with me while I’m shoving food in my face?”

Yes.

He’d waited for me.

“No.”

“So can I get on to shoving food in my face?”

“Yes.”

He stepped aside. “Then get your ass in here.”

I got my ass in there.

Our breakfast was set out on the table on the balcony, plate covers still on, the service trolley tucked to the side in the room.

I marched to the balcony and was utterly unsurprised when Rix noted, “Yours is to the left.”

The left chair had its back to the windows, so that meant the view was the view. The right chair had its back to the railing, so the view was the shine off a big window.

I therefore went to the table, shifted my plate a little to make room, moved his plate by mine, then pulled his chair around, next to mine, so he had a view too.

After I did that, I adjusted my chair so it was in front of my plate, and I sat down.

He didn’t.

He stood standing by the table, looking down at me.

“I don’t hog good views,” I declared, swept my plate cover off, and set it down with a clatter.

He lowered himself to the chair beside me.

I then swept his plate cover off and stacked it on mine.

“Al,” he called when I was resting my napkin on my lap.

I looked up to him.

His eyes roamed my face before he asked, “You good?”