Going Under (Wildfire Lake 2)

As she disappears around a bend, I mutter, “I’m so fucking screwed.”

15

KT

By the time I get back to the marina, the construction crew is gone. And I’m wiped out—emotionally, physically, and my heart hurts too.

Levi’s boat is docked alongside the houseboat we consider Laiyla’s. I’m glad it’s dark so they can’t see what a wreck I am. Then I run into Chloe as she’s leaving Laiyla’s houseboat on her way to her own, which is next to mine.

“There you are,” she says. “We heard about Jazz being down here on the—” She takes a closer look at me, and her brows snap together. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. What are you doing?”

“Moving boats. Laiyla took her things to Levi’s house, so I’m moving into Laiyla’s boat because it’s a little bigger and will give us both more privacy.”

&nbs

p; “Okay. What can I do?”

“Sweetie, you work too hard as it is.” She passes me. “But walk with me. What’s going on? Is Jazz okay?”

“Yeah.” I breathe the word, savoring the relief as I follow Chloe into her houseboat. I sit on the futon in the living room, while Chloe collects more clothes from her drawers. “God, she was so lucky. I can’t stop thinking about how many things could have gone horribly wrong.”

“Levi and Laiyla are talking about fencing the whole property. They don’t want to take any unnecessary chances with so many kids in town. Seems like an unnecessary expenditure to me, given that there are so many other entry points to the lake, but I guess for liability’s sake it might be a good idea.”

“I’m all for it. Jazz may still have wandered off, but she would never have made it to the water if there was a fence.”

“True,” Chloe says. “Did you finally talk to Ben?”

“Given that I fired his babysitter, I kinda had to stay with the girls until he got home, so yeah, I talked to Ben.”

Chloe’s gaze snaps toward me so fast, her hair flies out behind her. “You what?”

I tell her the story. By the time I’m done, she’s sitting beside me on the futon and we’ve both got a glass of red wine in our hands.

“I really admire your ability to do and say whatever it takes to stay on the right side of things,” Chloe says. “You’re so special.”

I laugh. “I’m special all right.”

“Sounds like Ben’s pretty special too.” She studies her wine. “He’s a whole different kind of guy for you. Maybe you’ve finally found your fit. He’s more mature than your hookups, probably because he’s been through more tough stuff—married young, lost his wife young, got through medical school, residency, working in the ER. He’s understanding, loving, and patient because of his girls. He’s accepting of you being unapologetically you, which is a huge plus, because you are amazing in so many ways, and he sees that. He’s obviously intelligent, which I think you’d find exciting, because while you play it down, you’re one smart woman.

“I think having a driven, intelligent, loving man is exactly what you’ve been needing. And I think you know all this subconsciously but aren’t willing to accept it because that would mean making tough choices, and change is scary. So is truly giving your heart to someone. You’ve spent the last decade essentially alone—no family.”

“You and Laiyla and Levi are my family.”

“You know what I mean. You’ve had to be the one holding everything together in your life—work, friendships, finances. And during that decade, you’ve put systems into place that keep you on an even keel. Ben and the girls would change the whole balance of your boat. You’d have to make some pretty significant changes to recapture that equilibrium. I think that’s as scary to you as giving him your heart. Maybe even scarier, because in a lot of ways, an unbalanced boat signals danger to you, and danger, in your world, means drowning.”

My mind is spinning around this new central idea Chloe has presented. I’m not sure if it resonates because she used a boating analogy, but it’s spot-on. “Damn. You’re good at this.”

She shakes her head. “I’m just more self-aware. When you do deep spiritual work, it opens you up and shows you things about yourself you weren’t willing to see. It’s always positive, because you can’t make changes until you see the problem. So even if you don’t like what you find, you have the power to make a change.”

I mull over the ideas. “You’re right. Change is a problem for me. Trusting is hard for me.”

“I’m right there with you, but I know we’re both capable of it. Look at you now. If I’d told you seven months ago this is where you’d be and that you’d be happy, you would never have believed me.”

I finish my wine and set the glass on the coffee table. “None of that helps me make the biggest decision—stay with Ben and the girls, or go live my dream.”

“Do they have to be mutually exclusive? What about a happy medium?”