Head Over Heels (10 page)

“You're welcome,” he said softly.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he could see her posture become less tense, and at the same time, her face tipped just a bit to lean her cheek into his palm.

“That's better,” she whispered.

Her skin was soft. Smooth. Delicate. A wisp of hair brushed his fingers when she moved. It was soft, too, only a different kind of soft than her skin. Like a cloud.

He gently slid his hand a couple of inches back, caressing her cheek, and then dipped the ends of his fingers into the red of her hair. That bit of red had piqued his interest from the first moment he'd seen it. The texture of it was fluffy, almost like air, but it had density.

As he caressed Marielle's hair, her eyes closed.

Something inside him snapped.

He lowered his head just a little. “You're
very
welcome,” he murmured, then lowered his head completely. At first he just brushed her lips gently with his, but when he did, she made a little noise and his brain stopped functioning.

His hand closed around what he knew was the red lock of her hair, and he pressed his other hand into the small of her back, pulling her so close against him that he could feel her heart pounding. He angled his head and kissed her fully, with all the emotions he'd been holding back for so long, ever since the day he'd taken her out for dinner and they'd bantered over the bill.

He altered his stance to stand with his legs farther apart so he could hold her even closer, nestling her completely in his embrace.

He'd never in his life felt like this when he kissed a woman.

The only reason he stopped kissing her was that he needed air.

The kiss may have been over, but he wasn't ready to let her go. He didn't move as he cradled her head against his chest, enjoying the closeness. He'd never met anyone like Marielle before.

“This isn't going to work,” she said into his chest.

Russ's thoughts and emotions exploded in a million directions. One of the first things he'd said to her when they first met at the hospital was that he was too busy to date. When his assigned month at the youth center was over—and it was already half over—he would be back into his normal routine, and with any luck, he would be working even more if he got the new vice president's position. He'd already acknowledged that he didn't have time to establish a relationship with a woman. He would have even less time in the future.

“I know,” he whispered into her ear.

When her hair shifted at the faint movement of air with his words, he leaned his cheek into the hair resting on his palm. Though it was the end of the day, he wanted to smell some kind of pretty, feminine shampoo, but he didn't. He didn't know where such a thought came from, but it left him sadly disappointed when there was nothing fragrant to breathe in. Although, in a way it was a good thing, because, despite what they were agreeing on, he wanted to kiss her again.

“I'm not good at this kind of thing,” she said, still talking into his chest.

“That's okay. Neither am I,” he said into her hair. He raised his head, spread his fingers and let the soft wisps float down like fine sand through an hourglass.

As if she felt the release, she backed up a step.

He suddenly felt cold, like a rush of frigid air had settled between them.

“It's time to close up. You go first, so I can lock the door. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, same time, same place.”

Words failed him. He simply nodded and stepped outside the door. It closed behind him before he had a chance to turn around.

Tomorrow it would indeed be the same time and same place, but everything else would be different.

“W
here did all these kids come from?” Russ asked as he looked around the room, which was getting crowded.

Marielle didn't need Russ to ask the question. She was already asking it herself. Her heart pounded. Every day they'd had a few more people than the day before, but for the first time, she was unable to count how many teens were in the youth center. There was simply too many to count without everyone being seated.

“I don't know. This is like that commercial, where one person tells two friends, and they tell two friends.”

“And so on, and so on, and so on,” Russ finished off for her. “We have to get more chairs. I know where they are. I'll be right back.”

Marielle found it interesting that he'd automatically teamed them up as “we.” It wouldn't be much longer before she would be back to being just herself, with Russ coming in as an occasional volunteer when nec
essary. If he remembered his promise, that is. She'd had many other people over the past two years say the same thing, only they never came back. But something deep inside her told her that Russ was good for every promise he made, and that he would be back.

She watched him as he disappeared through the door and into the main hallway.

She reminded herself, not for the first time, that the dedication and driving work ethic she found so admirable in Russ was also the thing that she disliked the most. She worked hard, too, but for different reasons. She knew what it was like to be cast aside, and she didn't want any of these teens to be cast aside just for being born on the wrong side of the tracks.

Russ returned with a dolly holding a stack of half a dozen chairs. He tipped it to set the chairs on the floor and pulled the dolly out from under them, then turned to a group of boys. “Hey! David! Get these set up, okay?” The second David acknowledged him, Russ disappeared again.

Marielle's knees began to quiver. Yesterday Russ had kissed her so sweetly she had thought she would melt.

Yes, she liked him. But she refused to make the mistake of falling in love with someone else who was going to leave her crying and feeling like a beaten puppy because she didn't have the right corporate image, and refused to make having the right corporate image her life's mission.

Her mission was right here. Instead of a tailored suit made of fine fabrics that could only be dry-cleaned, Marielle wore well-used jeans, a T-shirt from a Chris
tian band that had been in town about five years ago, and sneakers that had seen better days. She was right where she wanted to be. Among kids who could someday be presidents and vice presidents, if only they could get a good break, or work hard enough to make their own breaks.

The door opened and Russ came in with six more chairs. This time David had dragged his friend Matt to the door with him, and they were ready and waiting. Russ set the second set of chairs down, and disappeared into the hallway once more.

He returned empty-handed, having delivered enough chairs for the newcomers, and put the dolly back in the closet.

David pointed to one of the chairs. “The seat part is loose on that one. It looks like the screws are falling out.”

“I have a tool kit in my car. I'll be right back.”

Russ walked to his usual computer, reached into the corner beside the monitor—and froze. He scanned the counter, then turned quickly and looked out the window, straight at his ever-shiny SUV, parked in the same spot he always used. Marielle could see his chest expand and relax in a sigh of relief. He rested his fists on his hips, his brows crinkled and his mouth tightened as he stood in one spot, obviously thinking.

“Marielle, have you seen my keys?” he called over his shoulder.

Marielle joined him so she wouldn't have to raise her voice. “Have you tried your pocket? That's where most people put their keys.”

“Not true. Women put their keys in their purses.”

Marielle shook her head. “Not this woman. I don't take the chance that if someone steals my purse, then along with my wallet and credit cards, they also have my keys, they know where I live, and know I'm stranded for a couple hours, unable to get home. My keys are always in my pocket.” To prove her point, she reached into her back pocket, pulled them out and jingled them in his face. She also kept her keys in her pocket because she locked her purse in the desk, and needed the keys to get her purse out.

“I never put my keys in my pocket. They make my pants hang funny.”

Marielle looked down. As he did every day, Russ worse loose-fitting khaki pants, never jeans. She supposed he did have a point about the weight. He also never put his cell phone in his pocket; it was always clipped to his belt.

She noticed that even though he constantly left his keys lying around, the cell phone was never off the clip unless he was using it.

“Do you think you accidentally locked them in the car? I've done that. All it took was once, though, and it never happened again.”

“Impossible. I have a remote lock. I always lock it with the remote from outside.” He turned and smiled at her.

Something in Marielle's stomach fluttered, making her think that she shouldn't have skipped lunch.

“You see, I've locked my keys in my car, too. And all it took was once for it never to happen again.”

David joined them. “Sorry, I don't see your keys anywhere, Russ.”

Marielle scanned the room, where groups of teens stood in circles talking.

“Okay. It's time to get serious,” she said.

She walked behind the desk and pulled out the chair, but instead of sitting, she climbed up and stood on it. She clapped twice, then waved her hands in the air above her head. “Attention, everyone!” she called out. “We're missing a set of keys! Can everybody look around and also check your pockets? If you've got two sets of keys in there, one of them isn't yours!”

“That was subtle,” Russ muttered beside her.

She looked down at him from her perch. “But it was effective. You'll notice everyone is looking.”

“Maybe. Let's see what happens.” He extended one hand to help her down, but all she did was stare at it.

Over a week ago, he'd clasped her hand. It had made her all tingly then, when all they were doing was arguing about who was going to pay the bill at the restaurant. It was totally innocent, but it was something she would remember for the rest of her life. She'd read all about the electricity that passed when two would-be partners touched for the first time in romance novels, but she'd never believed it really happened.

Until it happened to her.

She didn't want to touch him again, in case she got a repeat performance.

Instead, she rested one hand on the back of the chair to steady herself and began extending one foot downward. But as she shifted her weight and leaned on her hand with the back of the chair supporting her, the chair began to tip.

She drew in a sharp breath as she felt herself starting
to go down. In that split second, Russ's hands clamped firmly around her waist.

The front legs of the chair settled back onto the floor, but instead of releasing her, Russ increased the pressure and lifted her down.

Her feet may have been firmly on the floor, but Marielle wasn't sure she could stand. She looked up into Russ's face because she couldn't look away.

She wanted to kiss him.

And judging from his dazed eyes and slightly parted lips, he wanted to kiss her, too.

“No one's watching,” he whispered in a husky voice that made her heart beat faster.

“Not now, but it won't take much and they will be,” she whispered back.

One corner of his mouth tipped up in a lopsided grin, and one eyebrow quirked. “It's okay. It doesn't matter if anyone's watching. I just saved your life. It's to be expected.”

She wanted to tell him that a couple of weeks ago,
she
had been the one to save
him,
for real. She knew now that God had put her in the right place at the right time. But the words wouldn't come out.

“Forget it,” she grumbled, and stepped back.

He released her with the movement, but the impish grin remained.

Unfortunately, as they waited, no one came forward with an unclaimed set of keys.

Marielle checked her watch. “We really should get started. I'm sure they'll turn up later, when we have more time to look.”

He glanced around the room, and she expected him to argue with her, but he said, “I guess. We should come up with a plan.”

“A plan?”

“I can't expect all these new people to jump into the program now when we're halfway through. How about if I take the ones that have been with us all along, I'll sit on that table, and you take all the new ones that have been here less than a week and sit at the other table.”

Marielle gulped. “You mean you want me to teach them the program? I don't know it well enough for that.”

“But you know the basics, and you know everything we've done so far. So you know all you need to know for today.”

Marielle felt both proud that he thought so much of her abilities, and terrified. Except they didn't have a choice.

“Okay. Let's do it.”

They divided the group and proceeded just as Russ had suggested. Marielle surprised herself: Russ was right. She did know enough to show the basics of the tutorial.

Russ finished his session first, but he waited until Marielle was done with her group and then called for the doughnut break, as she'd planned. Except today, she had been going to cancel the break because she knew she hadn't bought enough. But after they prayed, as she'd planned, Marielle thought she'd experienced a miracle like the New Testament story of the five loaves and two fishes, because there were enough doughnuts for everyone, and even some left over. She later overheard that Russ had sent David out to buy more while the tutorials were in session.

The same general confusion and crowd dynamics happened while they paused, and it was a relief to get the teens back to the computer tables. Yet, six o'clock came quickly, and then the group slowly filtered out, but this time, for the first time, Marielle was glad when they were all gone.

She sank down into the chair behind the desk. “I can't believe what just happened. Most of them brought a guest, but for those who didn't, someone else brought three. I'm exhausted. How are you doing?”

Russ pulled up one of the chairs, turned it backwards and sat, straddling it. “I'm fine.”

Marielle leaned back in her chair, letting her head fall back. In the positions they were in, if he looked at her he would be looking straight up her nose. She was so tired she didn't care. “Are you really? Are you still getting those headaches?”

“Yes, but they're not as bad, and not as often. It's going just like my doctor told me. I expect to be all better by the time I go back to work.”

“What about your memory of the accident?” she asked. “Do you remember anything yet?”

“No. But sometimes a flash of something hits me. When I try to get it back, that's when I can feel a headache coming on. So I tried to tell myself that if I ever remember, in time, it will just have to happen naturally—I can't force myself to remember. Either that or I'm psychosomatic.”

“I don't think it's that at all. I know it's probably hard, but I do think you should try to let it go, and if it comes back, it will come back in its own time.”

“Easier said than done.” Russ stood and righted the
chair. “I had better start shutting all the computers off, and make a last check for my keys, although I don't think we'll have any better results.”

“Do you have an extra key for your car? Or whatever you call it? I mean, it's an SUV, but it feels silly to keep saying SUV instead of the word ‘car.'”

He sighed. “In the city it's just a big car with really bad gas mileage. I do have an extra key, but it's at home, and I can't get into my house without my keys, either.”

“Surely you have an extra house key.”

“Yup. It's in my SUV.”

Marielle sat straight and stared at him. “Any other time, I'd laugh.”

“Same.” He sighed and began walking toward his old computer. “I guess I'd better get started. If you wouldn't mind giving me a ride home, then I'll just have to break a window. If the cops come, I can… Hey…”

“What?”

A faint jingle sounded. “Here they are. Right here, beside my computer, exactly where I left them.”

“Well, don't you feel embarrassed?”

He turned around, holding his keys in front of him. “No. They were definitely not there before. It wasn't just me, either. When you so delicately asked everyone to look around, a number of the kids checked out the tables. If they were here, one of them would have noticed.”

“Then that's really strange.” Marielle shrugged. “I guess someone must have scooped them into their pocket after all, and then been too embarrassed to admit it.”

“I guess. But it would have set my mind at ease a lot
sooner if they had have said something. Mistakes happen. I could have lived with it.”

“Well, what's done is done. Now let's get everything packed up and get out of here. I'm going to bed early tonight.”

They packed up in silence and left quickly.

Marielle was never so glad to get home. Tonight, instead of supper, she had only the energy to make herself some toast with peanut butter. She even was going to skip her evening cup of tea and go straight to bed.

Just as the toast popped out of the toaster, the phone rang.

“Marielle, it's me. Russ. If you can, I need you to come over to my house as soon as you can get here. Get a pen and I'll give you directions.”