Jacquie D’Alessandro - In Over His Head

"Stick a barbecue fork in me, I'm done," he murmured to himself. He'd beaten Wes, and he could leave the arena for the last time with no regrets. It was time to start making some new memories. And he knew exactly where and with whom. He just needed to tie up a few loose ends, and then the rest of his life could begin.

With a final wave he exited the arena, pausing to shake Wes's hand.

"That was a great run, Josh," Wes said. "You gonna give me another shot at you?"

"No way. You're on your own. I'm restin' on my laurels."

"And your bruised ass," Wes said with a laugh.

Josh grinned. "It ain't as bruised as yours."

"True." Wes settled his Stetson back on his head. "A bunch of the boys are headed out to one of them fancy casinos. Wanna join us?"

"No, thanks. I've got other plans."

"Oh, yeah? Blonde, brunette or redhead?" Wes asked with a knowing smile.

"Bright red. And she's real sleek and trim and fast. Just the way I like 'em."

"What's her name?"

" The Quest ."

Wes grimaced. "That's a heck of a name for a woman."

Josh slapped Wes on the back and grinned. "I reckon it would be. But it's a real nice name for a sailboat."

Lexie sat in her kitchen, listlessly dunking her tea bag up and down in her favorite yellow ceramic mug. A shaft of sunlight fell across the kitchen table, and a sigh escaped her. Here it was, a beautiful morning, blue skies, warm sunshine and her day off-and she was utterly miserable.

She looked down at the burned fried eggs on her plate. What sort of culinary curse afflicted her that she couldn't cook an egg without it coming out of the pan looking like a hockey puck? She'd offered the blackened mess to Scout who had reacted with a feline hiss of outrage and a baleful glare at Lexie.

Her glance wandered toward the calendar hanging on the cream-colored wall next to the refrigerator and another sigh eased past her lips. He'd left exactly one month ago today.

An entire month. Damn it, why did she still hurt so bad?

Because you love him, you jerk , her pesky inner voice chimed in.

Damn, she hated that inner voice. It never shut up. And it was always right. How annoying was that?

All right, she loved him. But surely the feeling would go away soon. Wouldn't it? Nope, said her inner voice with brutal honesty.

Great. Her love for Josh was going to stick around like a bad rash. What she needed was an antidote for love. Like serum for a poisonous snakebite.

How was it that her breakup with Tony-a man she'd loved and had planned to marry-hadn't come close to hurting like this.

Because you didn't love Tony the way you love Josh. Because with Tony you knew you'd done the right thing and this time you're not so sure.

Okay, the damn voice had to go. In an effort to shut it up, she pulled the newspaper toward her and flipped through the pages. A small item on page ten caught her attention: Swimmer Suffers Shark Bite. She scanned the words. A fifteen-year-old boy required seventy-two stitches to close a wound to his calf when a shark attacked him the day before in the shallows off a beach about ten miles from the Whispering Palms.

Josh's words came back to her in rush. Sharks are dangerous… a bull might break your leg, but he won't bite it off… every time I see you going off in that boat for a scuba excursion, my gut gets tight. But I wouldn't ask you not to do it.

A frown pulled down her brows. Maybe he'd had a point. Maybe her job did involve some danger. But surely nothing like climbing onto the back of a pissed-off, two-ton bull. Every time her mind replayed the TV footage of him riding that beast, the butterflies in her stomach grew queasy.

The phone rang and, relieved to have her thoughts interrupted, she reached over to snag the handset from the counter. "Hello?"

"Lexie, it's Darla."

Her heart fluttered at Darla's voice. Could this be the call she'd been hoping for? She'd made her offer on the piece of land yesterday, but she hadn't expected to hear back so soon. "Do you have news?"

"I do."

Even though Darla only spoke those two words, something in her tone skittered dread down Lexie's spine. "Please don't keep me in suspense."

"I'm afraid that the owner accepted another offer, Lexie. I'm so sorry."

"Another offer?" she echoed in confusion. "But I offered the asking price!"

"And unfortunately another buyer offered more."

"Well, I'll just make another, even higher, offer," she said, her mind frantically trying to calculate how much more she could afford to spend.

"There's nothing we can do. The owner has already accepted the other offer."

This could not be happening. Lexie pressed her palm against her forehead in a vain effort to stem the throb setting up behind her eyes. "Maybe the other deal will fall through?" she suggested in a hopeful voice.

"That is, of course, always a possibility," Darla said slowly, "and I would certainly let you know, but I don't want you to get your hopes up, Lex. The other buyer is paying cash, so the deal can close quickly. Within a few weeks."

"I see." She felt like a balloon someone had just let all the air out of. "Who's the buyer?"

"I don't know… but does it really matter?" Darla asked, her tone gentle and sympathetic.

Darla had a point. "No."

"Listen. I'm going to scour the listings and we're going to find you another piece of land. A better piece. I'll print out some possibilities today at work, then we'll go out for dinner tonight and look them over. There's a lot of land for sale in Florida, Lex."

True. But she'd only wanted one, tiny piece of it. One tiny specific piece. And now it was gone. "Thanks, Darla, but-"

"No buts. We're going out tonight and that's final. I'm showing up at your door at six sharp. Wear something sexy, because after dinner we're hitting a few clubs."

"But-"

"No buts . The only excuse I'll accept is if you already have a date with Ben Affleck. Do you?"

"No." The word came out as a snarl.

"Then chin up, and I'll see you at six."

Before Lexie could say another word, the dial tone sounded in her ear. Clicking off the phone, she closed her eyes, then dragged her hands down her face.

She wanted to cry, to scream out her frustration, maybe even get up and smash a coffee cup or two, but she remained dry-eyed, silent and seated, trying to come to grips with the numbing, knee-buckling fact that her dream of building her house on her cove was gone.

She wasn't certain how long she stared off into space before the insistent ringing of her doorbell roused her. She rose and made her way to the door on leaden legs. With the way her luck was running, this was probably someone coming to tell her that her car had fallen into a sinkhole.

But what the heck. Her heart was broken, her land was gone, and she forgot to apply sunscreen yesterday so her damn nose was peeling. How much worse could this day from hell get?

She pulled open the door and instantly discovered the answer.

A whole lot worse.

Lexie stared at Josh, standing on her porch. Josh with his weight propped on a pair of crutches, his right leg wrapped from the knee down in a cast, and a hell of a shiner surrounding his right eye.

What on earth had happened? When she'd seen him on TV, he'd been fine. Had he competed in another rodeo?

She ruthlessly cut off the barrage of questions and gave herself a mental slap. Not your problem, Lex.

Yup, what a relief this guy was no longer on her radar screen-him and his cast and crutches and bruises. 'Cause if he were still on her radar screen, her stomach would be clenching and her heart thumping at the sight of his injuries. And she didn't feel the least bit clenched or thumped. Nope. Not a bit. And the fact that she couldn't find her voice around the lump in her throat? Just an aberration. And that moisture pushing behind her eyes? Just the fact that she hadn't dusted lately.