Read Crossing Boundaries (Cape Falls) Online
Authors: Sam Crescent
Crossing Boundaries (Cape Falls) (2 page)
Dear Diary,
Today was a nightmare. Most of my classes were with that jerk, Peter Miller. I despise him. He’s spent most of his life tormenting me in some way or another. I can’t stand it. At least in a month I’ll be free of him and I won’t have to worry about being polite. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was interested in me—but that’s crazy. How can that man want me? His interest in me is going to cause me trouble, probably with another one of those stupid pranks he likes so much.
My parents argued this morning over Dean Riley...
“What are you doing here?” a man's voice asked.
Laura cried out in surprise, completely absorbed in the words she was writing on the page. She turned and saw that the owner of the voice was no other than Dean Riley, the man for whom her heart beat. With her heart pounding, she quickly shut the small diary and placed it in her bag. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if he found out how she felt.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve always come to the stream to think.” Laura gathered her things, her fingers clumsy and her entire body shaking with nerves.
“Well, I own this land. From now on you need to get permission before you come traipsing around on it,” Dean Riley replied.
“Yes. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“You don’t have to keep apologizing. Who are you?” he asked.
Oh my God, he asked me my name.
Tell him then. Don’t just stand there looking like a complete idiot.
“I’m Laura. Laura Cox.”
He stared at her a few minutes more. “You’d better come to the house. It looks like a storm is brewing and I don’t want your mum or dad to think I’ve got a problem with showing their daughter some respect.”
She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Surely he hadn’t asked her to follow him? Laura panicked. She didn’t know what to do. The man she’d been writing about in her diary was here now, alive and in the flesh. And his ass looked too good as he walked in front of her.
“Actually, I’d better get to work. I work at the Cape Diner in town,” she replied and pointed behind her. Not that she had any sense of direction.
“You’ll get to work. Let the storm subside first.”
Laura gazed around her. How long had she sat here? The sky had turned a horrid, threatening black and showed a storm was indeed upon them. She bit her lip and followed after him.
His house was huge and as soon as she walked through the door the heat engulfed her.
The air had the scent of cigars and strong coffee.
“Here, give me your things,” he said.
Laura handed over her things and he caught her hand and walked her through his house to the kitchen.
“Sit.”
She grabbed the seat near the door.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
“You’re Dean Riley.”
He nodded his head and put the kettle on. “At least you know I’m not a serial killer.”
Laura chuckled and curled her legs beneath her. “Are you trying to give me a false sense of security?”
“Absolutely," he responded. "So you’re the Cox’s oldest girl?”
He knows who I am. Giddy moment. Focus.
“Yes. Do you know my parents?”
Dean shook his head. “No. I don’t know anyone. I’ve heard about you though. You’re their oldest girl who managed to get into college, right?”
“Yep, that’s me. Mum and dad had me when they were very young. They didn’t have the time or the money to go to college,” she explained.
He nodded at her words and brought over a steaming cup. She looked into the cup and smelt the scent of coffee wafting up.
“You can drink coffee?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m twenty years old. Of course I can drink coffee.”
He held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t shoot the maker.”
“I’m just going to call my mum. She’ll get in touch with the diner if I don’t get a chance to make it over there.” Laura took out her mobile phone and talked to her mum. She reassured her of her safety and told her Dean Riley had taken pity on her.
“He’s treating you good?” her mom asked.
“Yes.”
“All right, I’ll phone the diner in case you're late and you stay put. I don’t want you hurting yourself,” her mum said.
Laura agreed and hung up. “My parents worry.”
“They should. All parents worry about their children.”
“Do you have any children?” she questioned without thinking.
She saw the immediate change in him, the darkening of his eyes, and he no longer wore a smile. His hands gripped his cup tighter. The light and energy seemed to be sucked out of the room.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t ask personal questions.” She sipped from her cup and placed it back onto the table. “I’d better go.” She got up and grabbed her bag.
“There’s no need for you to leave. Stay. I’m sorry. It’s still too hard for me.” He stopped and glanced down at the floor.
She sat back down and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
Talk about conversation killers.
“I only heard what my parents told me. I didn’t think.” Now she was babbling.
“The rumours can only be expected. So, what do you study at college?” he asked.
She heard instantly how quickly he changed the subject. Her heart mourned for his loss.
“Umm, English, I think. At least most of my classes are in that basic area.” Laura loved to read and one day she hoped to be a writer. Not for political reasons or anything like that. She loved reading romance and figured that would be the area in which she would write. A cliché career choice, but she was a firm believer in following her dreams.
“I love English. Are you thinking of becoming a teacher? An editor of some kind?” he asked.
Laura couldn’t believe how interested he sounded. Feeling stupid at her dreams, she shrugged her shoulders and went with the neutral ground.
“I don’t know. Picking a career choice that will last my whole lifetime seems a little hard.”
You liar!
“Really? I thought you’d have a career in mind by now. Throughout college I knew exactly what I wanted to become,” he said.
Laura leaned forward on her seat. “What did you want to become?”
“A writer.”
Her heart pounded. This was too big of a coincidence. She should be in her own romance novel. The man of her dreams wanted the same profession she did. How was that possible?
“So what are you?” she asked as her curiosity peaked.
Dean smiled and drank more of his coffee. The suspense was killing her.
“Tell me what you want to be,” he said instead.
“How do you know I want to be anything?” she countered.
“A hunch.”
Laura stared at the floor and thought over her decision. Dean would be the first person she’d told of what she wanted to be.
“All right, don’t laugh. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
She rubbed her hands over her thighs. “I want to be a writer.” The admission felt fantastic, like she’d just released a deep dark secret.
Dean didn’t laugh. He smiled. “Did that feel good?” he asked.
Laura nodded. Telling someone about her dreams helped. “Yes. How did you know?”
Dean placed his cup on the table and leaned forward. He pressed his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees.
“When I told my family and friends that I wanted to be an author, they all laughed. They said it was a pussy profession and that I didn’t have what it took to write good stories.”
“What did you do?” Laura asked.
“I proved them all wrong.”
Silence met his answer.
He had the most amazing blue eyes she’d ever seen, like the depths of the ocean. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.
“Are you telling me you’re a writer?” Her heart rate picked up. Not only because of being the love of her life, but also because of his admission.
“I’m a writer,” he confirmed.
“Of what? How long have you been writing? Is it amazing?” So many questions ran riot through her head.
He laughed and took her cup from the table.
“I write novels in the more risqué category and let's just say that I’m doing quite well for myself," he answered. "It looks like the storm has died down. Do you need a lift into town?”
Their conversation was getting along great and Mother Nature decided to put a halt to it.
“If you don’t mind?” she responded. She grabbed her bags and followed him out of his house.
The drive to town was quiet. Laura had to try to keep her attention away from the hot man sitting next her. In no time at all he was pulling up outside the diner. She groaned when she saw how busy it was.
“Are you serious about becoming a writer?” he asked as she reached for the door handle.
“Yes. It’s my dream.”
“Okay. Stop by my house. I’ll clear it with your parents and we’ll work on your technique. I take it you have some stories you’ve already written?” he asked.
“Short ones, and they’re really badly printed.”
“Bring them. I’ll give them a read. Be aware though, I 've never done this and you’ve got to be prepared to learn,” he warned.
“I will. I promise. Thank you for the ride and everything.” She got out of the car and watched as he drove off before entering the crowded diner.
On entering she saw that Peter and his gang were already seated in her work area. Great, she thought. Another afternoon with having to be kind. Laura walked into the back and changed into her uniform. Kasey, another waitress who was about two years older, was putting on her make-up.
“You made it then?” she asked.
Laura nodded. She tied her hair into a ponytail and took a fresh menu pad off the pile. “Yes. Dean Riley gave me a lift into work.”
“He’s got a cute ass,” Kasey commented.
She ignored Kasey and grabbed a coffee pot on the way out. Several customers needed refills. Orders were taken from a few others. With every second the place got rowdier.
A child spilled shake all over her uniform and another splattered tomato sauce. By the time she made it over to Peter and his gang she looked a wreck. When she reached their table she stared down at her notebook, mentally squaring her shoulders for the tease and taunts that were about to happen.
“What can I get you?” she asked. Avoiding eye contact usually worked.
“Wow, you look a mess,” Russell, one of Peter's cronies remarked..
“I mean your order,” Laura said. Fatal mistake. She looked up from her pad and saw that all six men were staring at her.
“Have you even glanced at the menu, yet?” Laura asked.
They shook their head.
“Then why did you signal me to order?” she inquired.
“Because we know what we want. Six orders of cheese burgers and fries,” Peter said, interrupting the other guys.
Laura wrote the order down, thankful that he’d stepped in. She kept her fingers crossed with hopes that the library would open up for jobs. Working at the diner was a royal pain in the ass.
Chapter Three
Dean drove to the supermarket after dropping Laura off. He was long overdue on some groceries, especially if he wanted to eat for the next few days. He thought about the young woman he’d dropped off. She was sweet looking and definitely a lovely person to talk to. He hadn't noticed any interest in him from her and he liked that. He couldn’t deal with any woman’s interest in him. After the death of his wife and child by a drunk driver, he was passed all the romancing and love talk. He spent most of his days writing. Although his editor had been in touch with him and told him that he needed to start writing lighter stuff, in his heart all he saw was the darkness, the darkness of being alone and knowing that his wife and little boy would never walk through the door again. The pain was so intense that at times it caused him to stop and breakdown for days.
On the night they’d been killed, they had been at a book signing. Carla had wanted to get little Frankie home and instead of telling her to wait for him to finish, he’d decided to get a taxi. When he’d gotten home, Carla and Frankie weren't there. They’d been killed on the highway by a truck driver who hadn’t stopped and who had had one too many beers. No matter how much satisfaction there was in knowing the driver was firmly behind bars, the pain didn’t stop. Carla and Frankie were still dead and nothing would bring them back.
“Mr. Riley?”
Dean came out of his memories to see a woman staring at him. He knew right away it was Mrs. Cox.
“Sorry. I was thinking,” he said and pushed his trolley along the deli section. He ordered some pancetta and cheeses.