As her recitation went on, she saw the muscles in Boone’s shoulders visibly tighten.
“So, what?” he asked. “This was hello and goodbye all in one. You’ll be back, when? Sometime after the first of the year?”
“I’m sure it won’t be that long,” she said, though she honestly couldn’t promise how much sooner it might be. “I’m hoping to get back at least once a month. I was also thinking maybe you and B.J. could come to California, so we could take him to Disneyland, or that you could meet me in Aspen for a quick getaway, just the two of us.”
“I’m beginning to see what you meant,” Boone said, his tone filled with disappointment and resignation. “Your priorities are still all screwed up, aren’t they? You’re not willing to put this relationship ahead of much.”
“These are commitments I’ve already made, Boone.” She regarded him with frustration. “Should I slack off, not give the jobs the attention they deserve?”
“Of course not,” he said, his own frustration just as plain. “What about after these jobs? Will you slow down? Take less work? Maybe even relocate your business to North Carolina?”
“I honestly haven’t thought that far into the future,” she admitted. “There wasn’t any reason to. I thought we were just starting to test the waters, find out if we had anything left.”
“Do you at least agree that we do?” he asked.
She walked around the bed and sat down beside him. “How could I possibly deny that? The sex has been amazing.”
The frown on his face only deepened at her words. “That’s all this has been for you? Great sex? I thought we were reconnecting on a whole lot of levels.”
Now she was frowning. “Why are you deliberately misunderstanding me? Do you want this to turn into a fight? Are you hoping we’ll break up here and now, then go back to the way things were, not speaking or seeing each other? It would make your life less complicated, wouldn’t it? No problems with Jodie. No worries about B.J. getting hurt.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said irritably. “Didn’t I just suggest marriage?”
“But when I didn’t leap at the suggestion, you started picking at things, Boone. You’re trying to make me feel guilty because I need time to see how this can work. There are a dozen practicalities we need to consider.”
“And I think if you were really in love with me, you’d commit to marrying me, and we’d figure out how to make it work.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No,” he said flatly. “I’m saying I love you enough to take a huge leap of faith into the future. You’re saying you’ll see how you feel once all the details are ironed out. This is exactly the way it was ten years ago.”
“It is not the same thing at all,” she said emphatically. “And I’m being reasonable,” she added, though her voice rose to a very unreasonable pitch when she said it.
“I guess that’s one perspective,” he said, yanking on his shirt and shoving his feet into his shoes. “I’ve got to pick up B.J. If I don’t see you before you leave, have a safe trip.”
Emily stared at him incredulously as he headed for the door. “That’s it. You’re just walking out?”
“I have to pick up B.J.,” he repeated. “And it wouldn’t hurt for me to cool down. I’d say I’ll have that accomplished by New Year’s, which ought to fit into your schedule perfectly.”
“You’re being a stubborn idiot,” she called after him.
“Pot, kettle,” he retorted, his voice fading as he went downstairs.
She heard his car start, then peel out of the driveway, spewing gravel undoubtedly.
“What just happened here?” she muttered under her breath, clutching a pillow in her arms.
She and Boone had gotten back together, had a few hours of being closer than she’d been to anyone in years, he’d proposed, they’d fought and now they were broken up? Not likely, she thought angrily.
Though how on earth she was going to fix things, or why it was even up to her to try, was pretty much beyond her right this second.
* * *
“Daddy, you look mad,” B.J. said hesitantly when he crawled into the car after school.
Boone forced a smile. “Not mad, just preoccupied,” he told his son.
“Did somebody mess up?”
That was one way of putting it, Boone thought. Now that his temper had cooled ever-so-slightly, it was hard to say if Emily was the one who’d messed up, or if he had. He had an uncomfortable feeling that at least a share of the responsibility belonged to him. He’d pushed too hard. He could see that so clearly now without the leftover glow of mind-blowing sex clouding his judgment.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” he assured B.J. “Want to stop for ice cream to celebrate your first day back at school? I want to hear all about your new teacher and the kids in your class.”
“Can Emily come, too?” B.J. asked. “I have to tell her what the other kids said about all the cool stuff we bought on Saturday.”
“She’s working this afternoon,” Boone said automatically, not eager for another confrontation quite so soon.
“But I bet she’ll take a break if we call her,” B.J. said, clearly not interested in being put off.
“I said no,” Boone snapped, then sighed at the immediate rise of tears in B.J.’s eyes. “Sorry. I just know she’s busy, son. Maybe you can give her a call later on and fill her in. I know she’ll want to hear all about your day.”
“When’s she leaving?”
“I’m not sure,” Boone admitted. “Tomorrow, I think.”
“Then I want to see her to say goodbye,” B.J. said stubbornly. “And she told me yesterday she has pictures of the ski lodge on her laptop. I want to see them. Forget ice cream. Let’s go to her house.”
Boone knew he could dig in his heels, play the parental card, insist it was ice cream or home, and end the conversation right now. A part of him recognized, though, that this might be the opportunity he needed to make amends for everything that had gone so horribly wrong earlier.
“We’ll stop by,” he relented. “But five minutes, that’s it. Understood? We can’t interrupt her when she needs to work.”
“Uh-huh,” B.J. said in an agreeable way that told Boone very clearly that he didn’t expect that five-minute rule to stick.
“Five minutes,” Boone repeated, as if the repetition would get his point across.
As soon as he pulled into Cora Jane’s driveway, B.J. was out of the car and racing across the lawn, yelling for Emily as he ran. The backdoor opened and B.J. threw his arms around her as if it had been weeks, rather than little more than a day since he’d last seen her. They’d all had Sunday morning breakfast together after Emily and Boone had come back here from their own sleepover.
Emily glanced in Boone’s direction, a questioning look in her eyes.
“Might as well face the music,” he muttered under his breath, getting out of the car.
“I didn’t expect to see you again this afternoon,” she said, her voice cool.
“B.J. insisted. He was afraid you might be leaving tomorrow.”
“That’s the plan,” she confirmed. “B.J., why don’t you go inside and look on the kitchen table? Grandmother brought home some cookies from the restaurant. She thought you might be coming by.”
“All right!” B.J. enthused with a fist pump.
Emily waited until he was safely out of earshot before lifting her gaze to meet Boone’s. “Cooled down?” she inquired mildly.
“Some.”
“Want to try that earlier conversation again?”
Boone shook his head. “Now’s not a good time. Why don’t I give you a call a little later?”
“Don’t you think we’re going to have to rely on too many phone calls when I’m out of town
to be wasting precious face time now?”
He heard the intractable note in her voice and sighed. “Let me see if Cora Jane can keep an eye on him again,” he said, despite his reluctance to keep imposing on her.
“If you don’t want to ask her, Samantha’s in the kitchen, too. She’d be happy to spend some time with him. I can leave him with my laptop so he can look at the progress we’re making on the ski lodge. He’s really excited about that.”
Boone nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
When he came back, he gestured toward the water. “Want to go sit on the pier?”
“Sure.”
Boone led the way, trying to figure out what he was going to say to make things right. At the very end of the pier, the afternoon sun spilled onto the faded wood, leaving it warm. He held out his hand and Emily took it as she lowered herself to sit on the edge. He dropped down beside her.
“It’s so peaceful out here,” she murmured, her eyes closed as she turned her face up to the sun. “I’d forgotten what it was like just to sit here and listen to the sound of the water lapping against the shore and the breeze whispering through the trees. I’m sure there are plenty of places like this in Los Angeles, but I never get there. When I think of L.A., the sound that comes to mind is traffic, horns honking, car stereos blaring. Not exactly serene.”
“And yet you can’t wait to rush back there,” he said, unable to keep a bitter note from his voice.
She glanced at him. “It has its good sides, too, not the least of which is that I have work there.”
Boone studied her. “Do you really love what you do, Emily?”
“I’m good at it,” she said simply.
“That’s not really an answer, is it? People can be wildly successful and realize that something’s missing.”
She frowned at the comment, then sighed. “Okay, the regular jobs are creatively challenging, but I’ve recently realized that I need more than that from my work. That’s why this shelter means so much to me. It combines the things I love to do with something that is genuinely meaningful. It’s an amazing experience, Boone, and I think it’s exactly the kind of thing that’s been missing from my other jobs.”
He saw the way her eyes lit up when she talked about it and felt his stomach sink. He thought he could have competed with a plain old professional challenge and financial success, but how was he supposed to compete with something that had clearly touched her on another level? Was it time to cut his losses, after all? Just let her go? Admit that they’d tried again and failed?
When he considered the stakes—losing her for a second time in his life, at least in part because of stubborn pride—he knew he couldn’t do it. This time he had to fight, just not by the almost desperate means he’d used earlier, trying to snag a premature commitment from her.
“Em, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I got carried away earlier. I’m not giving you time to catch up.”
She finally faced him then. “It’s not that I don’t want marriage,” she said, her tone earnest. “Boone, I do love you. If I’m being honest, I can even admit I never stopped loving you. But if we’re even going to consider this, we have to take our time. We want to get it right, for B.J.’s sake and for ours. Jumping in before we’re ready?” She shook her head. “I’m so afraid it could doom us.”
He nudged her in the ribs. “So sensible,” he teased. “All these years I’ve thought of you as the impulsive one. I’ve been the mature, responsible adult with a kid. I think I just lost it a little when we were together earlier. I saw marriage as a quick way to seal the deal, maybe even to thumb my nose at Jodie and force her to deal with reality.”
Her lips curved slightly. “Now there’s a romantic reason to walk down the aisle.”
“How about I take a couple of steps back, try to remind myself how the whole courting thing is supposed to work, and we deal with our issues bit by bit until we’re both comfortable with the solutions?”
She leaned into his side. “An excellent plan,” she agreed. “Very rational and mature.”
When she met his gaze, her eyes flashed with humor. “I guess that rules out all that impulsive kissing we had going on earlier.”
Boone laughed. “What rules that out is B.J. being less than fifty yards away in the house.”
“There is that,” she said with unmistakable disappointment.
“We had most of the day,” he reminded her. “Seemed pretty memorable to me. It might hold me till you get back to town.”
“If it doesn’t, say the word and I’ll try to get back sooner,” she offered. “And that invitation to Aspen is still on the table. It’s a beautiful place for a romantic rendezvous.”
Boone finally allowed himself a smile, satisfied that they were back on track. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”
But as appealing as the thought of a tryst in the Colorado mountains might be, it was nothing compared to a lifetime of having this woman back in his life, maybe having a kid or two of their own. It was hardly the same sort of fantasy he’d been talking about earlier, but it was the one he suddenly wanted more than anything. For the first time in a lot of years, he thought it just might be within reach.
17
“Daddy, Grandma Jodie wants to talk to you,” B.J. said, holding out the phone.
Boone sucked in a deep breath. He’d managed to avoid Jodie’s calls—God bless caller ID—ever since she’d left her message ranting about Emily, but B.J. always spoke to her each week. Boone tried his best to be out of the room, but today his evasion was clearly impossible. He took the phone and tried to inject an upbeat note into his greeting. “How are you, Jodie?”
“Doing well enough,” she said, but there was an angry edge to her voice that belied the statement.
“How’s Frank?” Boone asked, hoping to drag out the pleasantries as long as possible.
“Playing more golf than any human being needs to play,” she said. “Boone, there are things on my mind, as I’m sure you know.”
“I listened to your messages,” he confirmed. The last one had been left the night before. She’d apparently heard about Emily’s most recent visit and the school shopping trip and found both objectionable.
“Then would you care to explain why you didn’t have the courtesy to call me back?”
“Because I had nothing to say you were likely to want to hear,” he admitted candidly. “Jodie, you don’t have a say in whether Emily’s back in my life or not.”
“I most certainly do,” she retorted with a huff. “If you intend to bring her around my grandson, then I definitely have something to say. Maybe we can start with how B.J. managed to cut himself so badly he needed stitches while he was in her care. What kind of reckless person allows that to happen? She’s obviously not responsible enough to be left in charge of a boy.”
Boone wondered how she’d found out about Emily’s involvement in that incident, but that was hardly the point. He drew in a deep breath and prayed for patience.
“You know how it is around here after a storm,” he replied. “There were boards with nails all over the place. B.J. never slows down, no matter how many times he’s told to be careful. It was an accident, and he’s perfectly fine.”
“He had to have stitches, Boone. That is not fine in my book.”
“Then let’s just say the stitches are out,” he replied. “There were no complications. We can leave it at that.”
“Is he going to have a scar?”
“A very minor one,” Boone admitted, then added, “Much to his disappointment.” He tried for a more soothing tone, knowing she was truly worried about her grandson. “Jodie, I promise you he’s fine.”
She wasn’t placated. “But it happened when he was with that woman. And then you go and take her along on a school shopping trip. What is wrong with you? Does she
have some sort of bizarre hold on you?”
“Jodie, this conversation isn’t productive.”
She heaved a heavy, put-upon sigh. “Boone, I simply don’t understand how you could be that inconsiderate of our feelings and that disrespectful of Jenny’s memory.”
“Excuse me?” Boone said, his temper finally stirring, which was never good when dealing with his in-laws. Trying to be mindful of their importance in B.J.’s life while ignoring their disapproval of every choice he made was a tightwire act.
Jodie was either oblivious to his annoyance or didn’t care. She kept right on going. “You heard me. What is that woman doing back in Sand Castle Bay, anyway? Did she hear that Jenny’s gone and come back for you?”
Boone was trying his best to make allowances for her grief, but she was getting pretty darn close to crossing a line. “Jodie, you need to stop this,” he said quietly.
His warning fell on deaf ears.
“Why would you allow Jenny’s son to be around her?” she asked, her voice catching. “That’s completely inappropriate and you know it.”
“There’s nothing inappropriate about B.J. getting to know an old friend of mine,” Boone replied. “Emily came back here to help Cora Jane after the hurricane. She and I hadn’t been in touch in years. When she got here, she assumed I was married.”
“She must have been thrilled to learn otherwise,” Jodie said sourly, not convinced that Emily wasn’t plotting to grab him.
“Actually she was very sorry to hear about Jenny. And she’s been wonderfully supportive with B.J. about his mom. He’s able to talk to her about Jenny in ways he hasn’t with me.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute. I know how those West Coast women operate.”
From reading too many tabloids, he suspected. “Emily’s from North Carolina, Jodie.”
“Well, she doesn’t live here now, does she? I’m sure she’s just like all those women who jump in and out of beds whenever the mood strikes them.”
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