No Love Allowed (Dodge Cove Trilogy #1) (2 page)

Slipping the joint and the lighter into his pocket, he left the baggie on the passenger seat and got out of the car. He knew the best place to get high.

Coward’s Cliff. It stretched out over the water and was accessible by a path that began at the edge of the parking lot. The stand of trees gave the perfect cover. As kids, he and his
friends used to dare one another to jump off. It wasn’t too far from the road, but it was secluded enough that a passing cop wouldn’t see him from the road.

Caleb ambled down the grassy path, keeping his stride leisurely, hands in his pockets. As far as anyone who saw him was concerned, he was out on an after-lunch stroll, enjoying the rest of the
beautiful day. Once he made it to the shelter of the cliff, he fished out the joint and lighter.

Squeezing one end between his lips, he lit the other and inhaled. Holding his breath for a beat, he allowed the magic to work before exhaling in one long, satisfied puff. The smoke curled up in
lazy tendrils. He sagged against a tree, tucking the lighter back into his pocket and keeping his hand there. His knuckles brushed against something metallic. The name tag. The waitress. A grin
pulled at the corner of his lips.

She’d made him forget himself for a minute. And that was saying something.

He silently thanked her—wherever she might be—for the entertainment and inadvertently saving him from having to face Amber after the tears had dried. Amber would lick her wounds and
move on to someone else. There were far richer eligible bachelors for her to latch onto in Dodge Cove. Maybe their breakup this early was a good thing. Now he could concentrate on the trip. Nathan
already had most of the itinerary planned out. They had been talking about this trip since he proposed it at the start of the year.

After he’d taken a third hit, a hand snatched away the only thing relaxing him. Caleb straightened as fast as he could under the mellow circumstances. The protest died in his throat.

Pinching the joint between her thumb and index finger, Diana brought it to her lips and sucked in a lungful. Maybe it was the weed working or the shock of her sudden appearance, but he
couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth. The soft
whoosh
of her exhalation mesmerized him. The way her lips formed an O? Check his pulse, he might have just died.

“Hey,” she said in a breathy voice, then took another hit. She still wore the country club’s uniform and those ugly boots.

“Hey,” he said back, unable to think of anything better until, “Quit hogging my high.” Not the best line either. He blamed it on the brain-dulling substance he had been
inhaling.

With a huff for a laugh, she handed him back the joint. The idea of returning it to his lips when it had just been on hers made him suddenly very aware of her. The curve of her bottom lip. The
upward tilt of her eyes. The long column of her neck. Her citrusy sweet scent.

“Whoa!” He inhaled, eyes wide. “This is some strong shit.”

She settled beside him against the tree. Their shoulders touched. “I’ve had stronger.”

“Oh yeah?” came out with an exhale of smoke.

“Yeah.” She reached for the joint, and he willingly handed it to her just so he could watch her bring the end to her mouth again.

He thought of something to say and came up with, “Diana.”

Her name. Just her name. It sounded so good to his ears for some reason. Yup, his brain wasn’t working properly anymore. He reached into his pocket again when she turned her head to face
him, the joint still on her lips, and returned the name tag she had thrown at him.

“They call me Didi,” she said, running her thumb over her name. “I guess I don’t need this anymore.”

“Who are ‘they’?” He took the joint back, the knuckle of his index finger grazing the corner of her mouth.

She shrugged one shoulder—the one with the braid—then looked out onto the confetti water. “Can you see the future?”

“No. Can you?” He played along, not willing to overthink the sudden bizarre turn in their conversation. He was content to float in her company without actually leaving the
ground.

“No matter how hard I look, I just can’t see it.”

Before he could ask what she meant or anything else about her, the girl they all called Didi pushed off the tree she leaned on, walked up to the cliff’s edge, and jumped.

It took a couple of seconds for Caleb’s brain to catch up with what had just happened. His heart dropped. Then just as fast, it leapt into his throat. He dropped the joint and toed off his
shoes. Removing the jacket, he ran toward the edge and dove in after her, like an Olympian going for gold.

SOMETHING HAD TO
give.

The instant she took the leap she felt the pendulum swing up.

Best. Decision. Ever.

She loved the wind rushing against her skin and through her hair. She caught herself thinking this was what flying must feel like. The freedom. The weightlessness. Until
wham
! She
slammed feetfirst into the water. The shock took her aback. But there was no stopping now. A grin stretched her lips as her body sank. The coolness banished the stifling heat in her blood. Most
people would have fought hard to break through to the surface. She wasn’t most people.

Breath left her body in tiny bubbles. The salt water stung her eyes like tears. She struggled to keep them open, blinking often. What little of the sky she could make out grew farther and
farther away.

This must be what oblivion was like. The silence. The cold. Away from hateful words. Hateful stares.

As she sank farther into the darkness, another shape plunged into the water. A shadow she couldn’t quite make out until he reached her and wrapped those long fingers around her wrist.
Then, with a few quick kicks, her rescuer towed her body from the depths. She wanted to stay under a little longer. Just a little longer. But in seconds her head broke the surface. And as if by
instinct, she gulped in the breath her lungs craved.

Two coughs later, an arm wrapped around her front, and soon she was towed back toward shore. Breathing allowed her body to float until her back was almost parallel with the water. She stared up
at the sky. Its blue reminded her of the brushstrokes in van Gogh’s
The Starry Night
—how the light mixed with the dark until ultimately the dark won, even if technically it was
still early afternoon.

Lost in thoughts of swirls of paint, she was surprised when two strong arms dragged her limp body onto one of the docks nearest the cliff. Then she was dropped like a wet towel. An
oof
escaped her lungs, then a giggle.

A face with the most startling blue eyes hovered above hers. No longer were the corners crinkled. Flames burned behind those brilliant irises. She reached up and touched his cheek. His gaze
softened slightly. Even wet he was the most handsome boy she had ever seen.

“Wow,” she said in an extended exhale, feeling the urge to paint him.

Her handsome boy’s expression hardened. “Wow?
Wow?
” He closed his hands around the collar of her soaked shirt and lifted her. Then he shook her. “Wow? What the
hell were you thinking?” He dropped her again, his gaze searching her face.

“My mom always says I don’t make the best decisions.”

“That part is obvious.” He wiped his hand over his still-dripping face. A deep sadness replaced the anger in his eyes. “Whatever you’ve got going on isn’t worth
killing yourself over.”

“Who says I wanted to kill myself?”

“Uh, maybe the fact that you walked to the edge and didn’t stop until you went over? That shows intent.”

“No intent. Just what I needed. It felt damn good.” She whooped, then laughed up at the crystalline sky. Then she paused, remembering. “I still don’t know your name other
than ‘Trust-Fund Boy’ or Mr. Parker. I would like a chance to thank my hero properly. Not that I needed saving, mind you.”

His face was so expressive. It was fun watching all the emotions flit across his features. The brow-crinkling doubt. The eye-tightening anger. And most of all, the slack-jawed shock. He closed
his mouth and a muscle ticked along his strong jaw. Didi reached up again and traced the line from his ear to his chin with her fingertip, committing the angle to memory. He sucked in a breath. His
wet hair dripped on her face like salty summer rain. When a drop landed on her lower lip, she stuck the tip of her tongue out and tasted it. His eyes widened for the briefest second before he
closed them and exhaled. All the tension left his shoulders, causing them to slump toward her.

“Jesus,” he said like a prayer. “You’re crazy.”

She laughed again. “Since the age of eight. So? Your name?”

“Caleb.” He flopped onto his back beside her and slung his arm over his eyes, breathing heavily. He shook his head, rubbing the upper half of his face against his arm. “Fuck.
I’m too stoned to think. I don’t even know how I managed to rescue you without killing us both.”

The way he said it, all serious yet resigned, flushed out the humor in her. “Gee, thanks,” she said, annoyed. “I will repeat it as many times as you like. I didn’t need
saving.”

In her periphery, Caleb returned his arm to his side and turned his head so he faced her. “What’s your deal? Did some rich guy break your heart or something?”

The
tsk
left her lungs before she could stop it. “Sure, because I seem like the type to jump off a cliff because someone broke my heart.”

A beat of silence, then, “Is that why?”

Disbelief at his assumption forced her to face him. Both their cheeks touched the wood, the grain rough against the softness of hers. Inches separated their faces. She felt his breath against
her lips. Could he feel hers too?

“I’m not weak. If I was going to kill myself, it wouldn’t be because someone broke my heart.”

“So you admit to the attempt.” His features turned serious again. “What would have happened if I weren’t here, huh?”

She rolled her eyes. This was even more absurd than her actual decision to jump. And
he’d
asked her what her deal was? “I’m starting to think you have some sort of
unhealthy obsession.”

In a flash, he was on top of her, securing her wrists with his hands above her head and trapping her with his weight. That fire she had seen in his eyes earlier reignited. “Didi, promise
me, that for whatever reason, you won’t do that again.”

Her eyebrows met. “You’re not making sense.”

He sighed. “Attempting to take your life.”

“It’s called
suicide
.”

“Didi,” he said between his teeth. “Fuck.”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

As if she had struck him, Caleb let go of her wrists and returned to his prone position beside her. “My mother’s dead.”

This time it was Didi who shifted her weight so her face hovered above his. She looked into his eyes and found the pain she had been searching for. “Suicide?”

His nod was so curt she barely noticed it.

Ah, that explained it. No wonder he wasn’t willing to let go of the idea that she was trying to off herself. She was about to speak her sympathy for his admission when he reached up and
touched her cheek. His hand was so warm against her skin. It took all of her strength not to lean into the touch. Like being in the water, she felt comfort from the contact. He ran his thumb
beneath her eye. If she had turned her head slightly her lips would have touched the center of his palm.

“I know we just met,” he said. “I know I’m no one in your life, but as a favor to someone who saved your life, please . . . Diana . . . Didi . . .”

She closed her eyes and told herself the shiver running down her spine came from the chill caused by her soaked clothes. Yet in the back of her mind she knew the shiver was because her body
reacted to the sound of her name in that smooth, steady voice of his.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re demanding after being heroic?”

He chuckled. “You’re the first girl I’ve ever saved, so I wouldn’t know.” He paused. He liked doing that. “Promise me you’ll ask for help instead of
taking matters into your own hands. You may not think so, but your life is important not only to you but to those you leave behind.”

Having had enough, she moved away from his touch and sat cross-legged beside him. How to put this into words he would understand without giving him backstory? She tilted her head, then said,
“Caleb, you were there. I wasn’t having the best day. Spilling on your girlfriend—”

“Ex,” he interrupted.

“Oh, sorry. The waterworks should have tipped me off.
Ex
,” she emphasized. “Soaking her and having her scream at me just drove me over the edge. I lost it.” She
gave herself a mental high five. People lost it all the time. “Maybe working at the club wasn’t the best job for me.” She curled her fingers around her ankles and shrugged.

Caleb rose to his elbows. “You’re saying you got fired.”

“I’d like to think of it as quitting without pay.”

What she had been telling him all along finally dawned in his eyes. “So you really weren’t trying to kill yourself. . . .”

“Ding! Ding! Ding!”
She glanced left, then right as if addressing a gathered crowd before she began slow clapping. “By George, I think he’s got it.”

His lips pursed like he was trying his best not to smile. “You were having a bad day.”

“Getting smarter by the minute, ladies and gentlemen.” She crossed her arms over her chest and winked.

“I overreacted.”

“There’s hope for you yet, Caleb Parker.”

He threw his head back and laughed. She shook her head and laughed with him. Her day was certainly looking up. This was the most fun she’d had in a while. Maybe there was something to be
said about starting the day badly, but if she didn’t have another one like it in a long time it would be too soon. Once was more than enough.

A different kind of shiver reminded Didi of her current soaked-kitten situation. If she didn’t get home soon, she was sure to catch a summer cold. That would definitely suck.

She pushed up to stand and patted her wet bum as if dusting it off. Caleb watched her in silence, a serious expression on the attractive planes and angles of his face. She definitely needed to
paint him. That night. Another reason to go home.