Page 47 of When We Are Falling

Chapter 21

Ethan

The next morning,I pull up to the rehabilitation center with Bandit in the passenger seat, his tail wagging eagerly. The center is located just out of town, a modest building surrounded by lush greenery.

The smell of pine fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of animal feed and the earthy aroma of the nearby forest. A warm, orange sun low on the horizon illuminates the scene, making everything look fresh and alive.

I grab two smoothies from the cup holders in the center console, before hopping out of the truck, Bandit following close behind. We walk toward the entrance, where a wooden sign readsHarbor’s Edge Wildlife Rehabilitation Centerin cheerful, hand-painted letters.

I’m the first to arrive, and the director greets me like an old friend. Bob Randolf is an older man with silver hair and a passion for the environment, and it’s pretty clear the oil spill has affected him on a deep level.

Soon the center is bustling, volunteers milling about. Blake arrives shortly after Carlos, looking radiant despite the early hour. She’s wearing blue shorts that skim the tops of her thighs and a plain pale green T-shirt. The bracelet I gave her gleams in the sunlight as she waves, and my heart flips at the sight of her.

After the road trip we took, it’s my turn to surprise her later today. I’ve planned everything tonight, right down to the last detail—it’s going to go off without a hitch. The perfect night for the perfect woman.

“Morning, Blake.” Handing her one of the smoothies. “Thought you might need this.”

She takes it with a grateful smile. “Thanks. I rushed out without breakfast this morning.”

“Hey,” Carlos says. “Where’s mine?”

“Sorry, hand-delivered smoothies are only for pretty girls.”

Carlos raises his eyebrows, smirking. Pretty much everyone in my group knows about Blake and me, even if we’re not rubbing it in anyone’s faces.

Bandit noses at Blake’s leg, and she bends down to give him a scratch behind the ears. “Hey, Bandit. Ready for another day of hard work?”

He stays beside her for a long moment, soaking up the attention she’s lavishing on him. Can’t say I blame him. Then we all head inside, where Bob Randolf gives us his usual morning briefing, before I break everyone into teams of two or three. Blake and I are working together, of course, while Bandit goes to hang out in Bob's office.

Working alongside Blake cleaning out the animal enclosures is an exquisite kind of torture. I’m hyper aware of her every movement, the way she bends to lift a crate, the glint of sunlight catching the fine hairs on the backs of her arms, her slender fingers handling the animals. Each time she leans closerto grab something, her subtle, floral scent reaches me, stirring something deep inside.

The space between us feels charged, like it always does: a live wire, crackling with unspoken desire. I steal glances at her, admiring the curve of her neck, the determined set of her jaw, not sure how much longer I can keep my hands to myself.

The need to touch her, to close the distance and feel her warmth against me, is almost overwhelming. But I force myself to stay focused, to channel that energy into our work, knowing that we have a job to do and crossing that line right now isn’t possible, no matter how much I want her.

But tonight? Tonight’s a different story.

We finish cleaning the enclosures and move on to the next task on our list: washing the residual oil from newly brought in animals. We start at an enclosure housing a group of seagulls. The volunteers managed to clean them a little, but their feathers are still sticky with oil. I hold one gently while Blake carefully cleans it with a special solution.

“You’re getting good at this.”

She glances up at me. “Maybe I should switch careers. How does Blake the Bird Whisperer sound?”

I laugh. “I think you’d be great at it. But the locals at the Tavern would miss you.”

As we move to the next enclosure, I try to broach the topic that’s been nagging at me since last night. “Look, about David… I really think you should be careful. He’s—”

She cuts me off, her tone firm but not unkind. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Let’s just focus on the work, okay?”

“You keep brushing me off. I think you need to take this a little more seriously.”

“Boundaries, remember?” She’s got a smile on her face, but the green of her eyes are steel, and it’s clear nothing I say is going to make her see David as the potential threat he is. The onlyoption is for me to stay close. Which, come to think of it, is really a win-win situation for me.

We fall into a rhythm again, our movements synchronized as we clean and care for the animals. Despite the small undercurrent of tension about David, working with Blake is still the best part of my day.

We move through the tasks efficiently, and she handles the injured animals gently, never giving up, no matter how tricky the case, although we have wildly different styles. I’d describe her working style as free flowing and maybe a little scattered. She’d probably describe me as being too rigid and a perfectionist. But we make it work.

At one point, we’re feeding a group of rescued otters. I meticulously measure out the food and weigh each portion, taking out a few pellets here and there before re-weighing.

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