Someone Like You Read online

  “Three years, you say?” Her arm brushed against his as she stepped free of the wet suit. She adjusted her bikini, her attention still on him.

  Dawson shifted his gaze to the house. “Three years. Yeah, yeah. And in all that time I only beat you across that river twice.” He shook his head and turned his back to her. London danced for a living and she was easily the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Long ago he’d learned not to stare. A chill ran over his body. Bare chest and flimsy shorts were no match for a Northwest afternoon.

  Even when the sky was clear.

  “It’s freezing.” His clothes were a few yards up the dock. But before he could make a move toward them, he felt her hand on his shoulder.

  “Dawson.” Her fingers were silk on his skin.

  A quick glance over his shoulder. “Don’t worry … I’ll beat you next time.”

  “No, not that.” She came around to the front of him. “Look at you.” She raised her eyebrows. “CrossFit should make you their poster boy. Your six-pack’s an eight-pack.”

  “Funny.” His quiet laugh filled the space. He could feel her eyes on him as he pointed to her sweats folded nearby. “Get dressed, crazy girl. Cold’s getting to your head.”

  “Okay.” She did a low whistle. “Remind me again why we’re just friends?”

  Only you can answer that one, he thought. But he kept that to himself as he pulled his sweatshirt on and stepped into his jeans. Better to pretend he hadn’t heard her, because she wasn’t serious. She was currently dating another guy. Dawson couldn’t remember his name. There was a different one every month or so.

  London was dressed now, and the two of them walked up the dock, onto Dawson’s back deck. The place had been a fixer-upper, something thrown in on one of his father’s deals. His dad gave it to him as soon as they signed papers on the deal. “It’ll take a year of work and half your salary,” his father had told him. “But it has a ton of potential.”

  Now London hesitated before they stepped inside. “I still can’t believe what you did with the place.” She smiled. “It’s the house everyone wants. You know that.”

  “Thanks.” He walked her out front to her Honda and they hugged a little longer than necessary. The way they always did. “See you tonight?”

  “Yeah.” Her eyes softened. “I wouldn’t miss it. Grad Night Anniversary.”

  “Every May fifteenth.” A breeze whispered through the trees that lined River Drive. “See you, London.”

  When she was gone he turned and stared at the house, at the expansive porch and rich white columns, and for a moment he remembered what it looked like the first time he had brought London here. The roof had been caved in on one side and deep cracks cut across the old tiled entry. The kitchen cabinets were black with mold, the walls had gaping holes, and every bit of the green shag carpet smelled like wet dog.

  London had stepped over a rip in the vinyl and peered around a dark corner. “I wonder what happened to the dog?” She looked at him. “Assuming there was a dog.”

  “He’s not here. It’s been empty six months.” Of course London would ask about a dog. As long as he’d known her she had loved animals. That day he and London had headed toward the back of the house. The door fell off with a single touch.

  Oh, but the view on the other side of that busted-down door.

  “Are you kidding?” London had gasped. “This is gorgeous.”

  “I’ll transform the place.” He had picked up the back door and leaned it against the house. “And get a couple Jet Skis.”

  “One for you and one for me!” She had taken hold of his arm, eyes wide. “I can’t wait!”

  Dawson rebuilt the place from the foundation up.

  Never mind that they were only friends, Dawson couldn’t picture anyone else riding beside him down the Columbia River. Back then he still assumed she’d wake up one morning, dump the guy of the month and give her heart to Dawson. It was just a matter of time, he had told himself. One day she’d see what his dad and her parents and everyone else who knew them had always seen.

  Dawson and London belonged together.

  Every year since that senior trip to Disneyland, they had celebrated their Grad Night Anniversary. And tonight, like every year on this date, Dawson would ask God to change her mind. Because if she was ever going to see him as more than a friend, it would be on a night like this. When they would celebrate everything about their relationship.

  And maybe—just maybe—she might agree it was time to celebrate something more.

  Dinner ran till eight o’clock. Gage Development was acquiring a hundred yards of riverfront on the Portland side in an area previously home to drug dealers and gang members. The spot wasn’t quite cleaned up, but it was about to be. Over rib eye at Ruth’s Chris Steak House, Dawson and his dad nailed down details for the purchase of the land and the plans to renovate it.

  On the way back to their cars, his dad took a deep breath. “That was all you tonight.” He stopped and faced Dawson. “I want to expand in the next few years. You’re ready, Son. You could run a division by yourself.”

  The challenge shot adrenaline through Dawson’s veins. “What about you?”

  “Depends.” His dad started walking again and Dawson kept up. A thousand stars blanketed the crisp, cool sky overhead. His father smiled. “I want to be near my grandkids.”

  Dawson crossed his arms. “I need a wife before I can give you grandbabies, Dad.”

  “Exactly.” His father laughed. “I’m just saying when you do find that girl, and when the little ones come along, I’ll sell everything to be where you are.”

  His words touched Dawson to the core. “I’m glad.” He gave his father a long look. “You’re all I’ve got.”

  “Same.” His dad winked at him. “Have fun with London tonight.”

  For a long moment, Dawson stopped and faced his father once more. “She’s not interested. You know that.”

  His dad shrugged. “I see the way she looks at you.” He didn’t break eye contact. “I mean, come on, Dawson. What’s not to like? Of course she’s interested.” A few more steps and they reached their cars. “She needs time. That’s all.”

  If only it were that easy. “Okay.” Dawson knew better than to push the subject. “Good meeting tonight.”

  “Like I said, all you.” His dad didn’t leave a meeting or workday without hugging Dawson, and tonight was no exception. “I love you, Son.”

  “Love you, too.” Dawson climbed into his Chevy truck and called London before leaving his spot. “On my way.”

  “I’m already here.” Her voice was soft against the sound of the wind on the river. “Out on the dock.”

  Dawson smiled. “See you in ten.”

  His dad turned right out of the parking lot. He lived in a condo a mile down the river, the place he bought after Dawson moved out. Dawson’s mother had died when he was seven. His dad never remarried. He dated a few times for a year or two, but always he would share the verdict with Dawson. She’s not your mom.

  No one ever would be.

  Dawson’s father—David Alan Gage—had been a college football quarterback with a gun for an arm. But his arm was only half as strong as his business sense so he walked away from the game and became a developer. Now he was one of the most successful players in the Northwest land game.

  His dad met the love of his life at the closing of his first real estate purchase. Lila had been born in Colombia and moved to the United States when she was a child. Six years at Harvard and she became a skilled real estate attorney with a love for the outdoors and a beauty that took his father’s breath. She had a laugh Dawson remembered to this day.

  A week after they met, Dawson’s parents hiked Mount Hood and by the time they reached the summit they were officially an item. Six months later they married and became one of Portland’s power couples. Active in business and church and a number of charities.

  For a while it seemed everything Dawson’s parents touched turned to gold
. Whatever they wanted they got, including him—the baby they had prayed for. Their future was wide open, practically guaranteed.

  Right up until the cancer diagnosis.

  Two months later Dawson’s mother was gone and overnight his dad changed. Development wins were nothing to the time his dad spent with Dawson. Someone else could close the company’s multimillion-dollar deals. David Gage would be at Dawson’s Little League games. Period.

  After Dawson graduated from college six years ago, his dad brought him into the business. Since work was something the two of them did together, his dad was having fun again. He could hardly wait for Dawson to marry and have children.

  Which was why his relationship with London Quinn was so complicated.

  If only she would change her mind about him. Then the pieces of their lives would fall into place the way they had with his parents. Instead London hadn’t thought differently about him since that night at Disneyland—they were friends. Nothing more.

  A friendship that kept Dawson from being interested in any other girl.

  He turned in to his driveway and parked just past her car. Minutes later he stepped through his back doorway with an oversize faux mink blanket, a thermos of hot chocolate and two mugs. London sat in one of two low-slung chairs at the end of the dock.

  She looked over her shoulder as he walked up. “Good. You brought a blanket.” She was in jeans and a white sweatshirt, not warm enough for the chilly night.

  He took the seat beside her, wrapped the blanket around their backs, and filled their mugs. Their shoulders touched as he leaned back in his chair and gazed at the reflection of lights on the water. A long sigh came from deep inside him. “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

  “Me, too.” She turned to him. “I’m glad we take time … to remember.”

  Dawson wanted tonight to be about more than that, but he only nodded. “Yeah.”

  For a while they sipped their cocoa and stared at the river. Finally, London turned to him. “I’m a match. I wanted to wait till tonight to tell you.”

  “For your mom?” Dawson slid to the edge of his chair and a splash of hot chocolate spilled on his jeans. “That’s incredible!”

  London leaned back. “We’ll do the transplant in a month.”

  Dawson was as close to London’s mother as he had been to his own, but since January, Louise Quinn had been battling kidney disease. Her doctors blamed excessive use of over-the-counter pain medication she’d taken all her life for migraine headaches. A few weeks ago she had gone on dialysis and her doctor explained to the family how desperately Louise Quinn needed a new kidney.

  Without a transplant she wouldn’t live another year.

  Dawson let the news sink in. “I’ve been praying every day about this. That you’d be a match.”

  “I mean …” Her smile faded a bit. “I was a match from the time I was born. Right?” She thought for a bit. “And if I would’ve had the sister I always wanted, odds are we’d both be matches. As long as we shared the same blood type.” She shrugged. “Prayer didn’t have much to do with it, Dawson.”

  There it was.

  He turned toward the water again. The real reason he and London never found their way past friendship. Dawson’s faith held her at bay, made her uncomfortable even in moments like this. When something wonderful had just happened.

  “Prayer has everything to do with it.” He took a slow breath and turned to her. “Is she happy?”

  “I guess.” A faraway look clouded London’s beautiful eyes. “She’s worried about me. That something will happen in the transplant.”

  “It won’t.” Dawson had researched the procedure extensively. “You’ll be fine. And so will she.” Peace washed over him and he set his mug on the dock. “You aren’t nervous, right?”

  “Not at all.” London held her hot drink close. “I just want it to work.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t bear …” Her eyes found his again. “I’ll never know how you survived this long without your mom.”

  “I have my dad.” He reached for her fingers, the way he had years ago at Disneyland. “And you … and your mom.”

  London didn’t pull away. They held hands this way often, complicating things and simplifying them all at the same time. He kept the conversation anchored in reality. “How’s Chuck?”

  She laughed. “Charles.” Without letting go of his fingers, she elbowed his ribs. “His name is Charles.”

  “Whatever.” Dawson was back on comfortable ground. “You gonna marry this one?”

  “Probably not.” She tilted her head back and looked at the sky for a long moment. “He doesn’t make me laugh.”

  Of course he didn’t. Dawson turned to her. He ran his thumb over the top of her hand. “I make you laugh.” He didn’t feel like joking anymore. “So why, London? Why are you with him?” This was the moment he’d been waiting for. He needed to be clear.

  “Don’t, Dawson.” She stood and moved to the edge of the dock. “You know how I feel.”

  He rose to his feet and eased her into his arms. For a while they stayed like that, caught up in the embrace. As if their bodies knew more than their hearts ever would. Usually he would cut up at a time like this. Practice a dance move or kiss her hand. Anything so she wouldn’t have a reason to tell him what she’d told him so many times before. That she didn’t love him like that.

  That he wasn’t the one.

  But not tonight. He didn’t feel like being funny, and he wanted an answer. “Tell me why.” He put his hand alongside her face. “That’s all, London. Why not us?”

  “The answer’s the same.” She put her hand over his and lowered it from her face. “I’m too wild. I drink with the girls and stay over at my boyfriend’s apartment. You come home and read the Bible.”

  Her words hurt. “It’s a bestseller, you know. You might actually like the Bible.” He tried to find his lighter voice, but it was too late. He raked his hand through his hair. “You make me sound like a monk.”

  “No.” Her voice rose a notch. “Your beliefs … they’re just … they’re not mine.” A long sigh came from her. “You know what I mean. I love you, Dawson, but I’m not right for you.” Sadness welled in her eyes. She shook her head. “I never will be. You deserve better. Someone like me … but with your faith and goodness.”

  “I don’t want someone like you.” He ached at the thought. “I want you, London. You’re all I want.” He wondered if he should pull her close again, kiss her in a way that took her breath and changed her mind. But already the moment was gone. She took a step back and returned to her seat. After a minute or so, she patted his chair and waited till he sat down again.

  Minutes passed while the water lapped against the dock. Finally she took a quick breath. “I didn’t tell you about the Humane Society.”

  “No.” If this was all she was going to give him, he would take it. But only because he had no choice.

  She launched into a story about her volunteer work walking rescue dogs and how earlier today during a break from her mother’s coffee shop—London Coffee—in downtown Portland she had taken five dogs for a walk on Twenty-third Street.

  “Bad idea.” She seemed to force a laugh. Like things weren’t quite back to normal. She faced him. “Before I knew it the dogs were running in different directions, twisting their leashes around my legs and—”

  Dawson wasn’t listening. Sure, he nodded and smiled and tried to pretend the awkward conversation from earlier hadn’t happened. But he didn’t take her hand this time. Half an hour passed and they talked about her mother’s transplant and how long London would be in the hospital, and when she could get back to dancing for the Portland Ballet. Then they walked together to her car.

  “I’m sorry.” She searched his eyes. “About earlier.”

  He felt a grin creep up his face. “Your loss.” He couldn’t let her see how bad her rejection hurt. Not if he was going to keep her friendship. “One day you’ll settle down. And just maybe, I’ll sti
ll be here.”

  She kissed him on the cheek and Dawson savored the connection, the way her amber eyes held his. Then he watched her drive away and he had to admit the truth.

  The opportunity to change London Quinn’s mind had passed.

  Maybe forever.

  And there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.

  3

  Maddie West’s phone buzzed just as she was filing out of Texas Christian University’s outdoor stadium with her graduating class. They weren’t supposed to have cell phones out, but everyone did and Maddie couldn’t help it.

  Not because she wanted a dozen selfies with her fellow graduates. But because she was expecting the most important call of her life. Today, of all days. Maddie was one of ten finalists for her dream job. If she was chosen for the position, a call from the director would come anytime.

  Hurry, she told herself. Answer it! From a pocket in her sundress, Maddie slid her phone out from under her gown and checked the caller ID. Indianapolis. This could be it! She stepped away from her group of friends and took the call. The band was still playing “Pomp and Circumstance” and with eight thousand people in the stadium it wouldn’t be easy to hear.

  She plugged one ear and focused. “Hello?”

  “Maddie West?” The voice belonged to an older man. “This is Director Bob Schilling at the Indianapolis Zoo.” He paused. “We were quite impressed with your résumé and your interview. You have the training and attitude we’re looking for and you’re qualified to work with the public.” Another hesitation. “So … on behalf of our personnel department, we’d like to offer you a position at the zoo beginning the first of June.”

  “Sir?” For a second, Maddie wasn’t sure she had heard the man right. “You’re … you’re serious?” She squeezed her eyes shut. Anything to hear him better. “I got the job?”

  “Yes.” The man chuckled. “I’ll send you an email with the details. You’ll work in the contact exhibits, where patrons interact with the animals. Our kangaroos and baby goats, primarily. Oh … and we just received twin leopard cubs. Sisters.” He had a smile in his voice. “You might even get to feed them, if you’d like that.”