Nodding again, worrying his head might wobble off from all the agreeability, Finn backed out of the kitchen. Tossing on his nearest pair of shoes, he took off.
Not knowing where he was driving, not caring, he followed the road down the slope to the bottom of the hill, ending up at Riverside Park. He slammed the car door behind him. Fuck. Expanding his chest to draw air in, he let the oxygen fuel his brain, easing his turbulent thoughts.
The high elevation atmosphere was thin and dry, but as soon as he entered the trees surrounding the river, a humid breeze revitalized the air. Not many people out today. A group of teenagers was goofing around upstream, so he wandered downstream.
For a few hundred feet, he wandered under the dappling canopy until he reached a small clearing, and was startled… no, completely awestruck, by the furious woman on the beach. A rock the size of her palm in her hand, she tossed it up and tested its weight before launching it across the river. It cracked against the tree on the opposite side.
“Nailed it,” she whooped as she jumped up and down. Haley Salsborough. Her hair was pulled back in a thick ponytail. Although artfully ripped in a clever pattern, her ankle-length jeans were clearly designer, accented by a blue t-shirt that moved like water over her skin and leather sandals that laced around her ankles.
He stood back, watching her crazy routine. Face scrunched in a livid scowl, she’d pick up another rock. When she deemed the rock acceptable, its weight in range and her target isolated, she launched it across the river.
As she reached for a fourth, he stepped closer. “Hey,” he said.
She flinched briefly, but shook her head in surprise as she realized it was him. “Hey,” she said, her scowl lightening to the feisty lopsided smile she’d entreated him with the other night.
“Didn’t like that rock, huh?”
Wiping her hands on her jeans, she shook her head and said, “Nah. Too many rocks on this side. I’m trying to distribute them more evenly.”
“Very thoughtful of you. I mean, look at this park. Hideous.”
She glanced around theatrically. “What’s with all the cheery pink flowers and artfully filtered sunshine?” Pausing, she stepped a few feet closer. She had to have caught the clench of his jaw, adding, “Sometimes this town is a little too lovely.”
He stepped closer, but didn’t get as close as he’d like. “Don’t I know it. Days like today? I could use some bay area fog.”
“And mist to wick away a foul mood. Although, I did miss the snow.” She cleared her throat and strolled to the log that served as a park bench.
“Yeah. A little clean slate over the ground is nice.” Unable to resist, he sat next to her. “Did you work it out?”
“What?”
“Whatever was driving your rock-throwing rampage? Those were some impressive shots.”
“Thanks. That was the point, actually. I, uh, I don’t remember the last time I threw rocks.”
“Most grownups would probably say the same, if they even thought about it.”
She glared across the water. “I suppose so.”
He followed her gaze across the water. A leafy tree, one he probably knew the name of at some point, lie angled over the water, its leaves bouncing as the whitecaps high-fived each time they passed underneath. Deer tracks dotted the coarse sand on the narrow beach, probably out for a drink earlier this morning.
“I, uh, I have an interview,” he blurted out, his brow scrunching as he realized he’d said it out loud.
“That’s fantastic.” She grinned and nudged his shoulder with hers. “For what? Where?”
“Assistant coach at Minneapolis.”
“Holy crap, good for you.” Sapphire eyes darkening, she studied his reaction, her gaze resting on his jaw, trailing along the clenched edge before meeting his gaze. “You’re not excited.”
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, it’s a great opportunity. One I really shouldn’t turn down. Buddy of mine says Dallas has me on a short list, too.”
“I’m not questioning. I get it. I mean, I’ve never had a job interview in my life. But, I understand not knowing if you want something or not.” She shook her head, closing her eyes and smiling. “Okay, I’m not making sense.”
“Yeah, you are. It’s like I’m on the edge of a cliff and someone’s extending their hand to rescue me,” he trailed off, not sure of how to explain without sounding totally nuts.
“But you’re not sure you want to be rescued?”
“Yeah. If I don’t have a clue what I’m looking for, how can I feel relief from an offer I’m not sure I want? Of course, I haven’t gotten any actual offers yet, so I’m getting ahead of myself, anyway.”
