Split Decisions: A Southern Romantic-Suspense Novel - Charlotte - Book Two

by Carmen DeSousa

  When they reached the main corridor, the woman locked the wheels and strode in front of Caycee to reposition the footrests. “Do you feel better, Mrs. Monroe?”

  Caycee smiled at the title. “Yes, I do. Thank you.” Standing up, she staggered cautiously to the waiting golf cart. The blond woman was smiling now, content that she’d handled her first panic-stricken passenger. She set her luggage on the floor beside Caycee then sat beside her. Caycee stared at the woman confused.

  “I won’t say anything,” the blonde promised. “I’ll just sit beside you to make sure you’re okay until your husband arrives.”

  Caycee offered her a half-smile. The young woman had a strong southern accent, and it was evident she took her job seriously. Caycee had to remember she was in the South, where southern hospitality was job one. “Okay, thank you.”

  She inhaled a deep breath. Jordan would be waiting, probably fraught with concern. Certainly, all the passengers had made their way through the concourse by now, while she’d lagged behind having a panic attack. The cart stopped, and she slowly stood up, supporting herself with the handgrips. The woman stayed close, but wasn’t burdensome. Her eyes were still wary, however, looking as if she’d be willing to catch her if she fell.

  “Really, I feel fine. Thank you again,” Caycee insisted. The woman stopped, allowing her to exit the cart alone, but stayed within earshot.

  Caycee inhaled deeply again as she started walking through the small corridor that would open up to waiting friends and relatives. Jaynee’d said that Jordan would be waiting.

  She reached for her phone, remembering she hadn’t turned it off airplane mode yet. He’d probably called looking for her. Glancing at the screen, she noticed three missed calls, two missed texts. She returned it to her purse and started walking forward.

  Blood rushed through her veins again, and her heart increased its rhythm, but she wasn’t having another panic attack. She was excited, excited to see Jordan. She swallowed hard as she rounded the final wall and saw him. Of course, she would have recognized him. Her heart felt as if it’d stopped, though; she couldn’t make her feet continue.

  Jordan was pacing, holding his phone to his ear. She felt her phone buzz at the exact moment he scanned the crowd and saw her. Shoving it back in his pocket, he took several long strides in her direction. Caycee froze in place, letting him close the distance between them. He took her bag from her shoulder, setting it on the floor as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

  “I was so worried,” he whispered, his southern drawl smooth and appealing. She’d forgotten how just his accent sent a thrill through her. “The plane landed a half an hour ago; everyone has already exited. Where’ve you been?” he asked, continuing to hold her. “God, I missed you. I’ve been so ridiculously worried the last few days, then this.” He pulled back to look at her face. “What happened?”

  Afraid to speak, she licked her lips, then attempted to pull in another breath. Unquestionably, he would know she wasn’t Jaynee. His arms felt so good, so warm. She just wanted him to hold her. She leaned into him, and his arms automatically wrapped around her again. Tears stung her eyes. She needed to get a grip.

  “I missed you too,” she whispered against his chest. It was the truth.

  He didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he lifted her chin so her mouth was inches from his. Leaning toward her, he pressed his lips to hers. It wasn’t a deep kiss; they were in public, but it was warm and affectionate—familiar. After eighteen years, he was still familiar. It had been Jordan; it had always been him. The reason she could never be content with a man. She’d never stopped loving him. They’d only been together a few days, but he’d changed her permanently.

  As soon as the kiss ended, the questions commenced again. “Are you okay, Jaynee? Where’ve you been? What happened?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just sick. I feel very weak.”

  “Well, it’s no wonder. Did you eat at all the last few days? You feel as breakable as a doll.”

  Caycee’s eyes shot up at him. “What do you mean?” She and Jaynee were practically the same weight. Their clothes were interchangeable.

  “I don’t know, you feel smaller, fragile, as though you’ve lost weight or are weak, like you said. What type of sick are you? You don’t sound sick.”

  “Fragile. Lost weight. Is that a bad thing?” she probed.

  Jordan inclined his head, looking as though her question had bewildered him, or maybe it was her tone. Jaynee was gentler; she’d forgotten how cold she’d turned over the years.

  “No,” he said through a huff, a smile playing on his lips. “Just different…come on, let’s get your luggage and get you home. City life isn’t healthy for you.” He picked up her computer bag, threw it over his left shoulder, and tugged her gently to his side.

  She melted into his arms, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. It felt good, too good. She was making a mistake; she shouldn’t be here with Jordan.

  Caycee watched as Jordan effortlessly hauled Jaynee’s large bag from the carousel. He strapped her carry-on and laptop on top and took her hand as he led the way out of the airport.

  Eighteen years of marriage and he was still as protective as the night he’d stopped the attack by her ex’s hired thugs. He really had loved her back then. She’d convinced herself that he hadn’t been forthcoming…that he’d only said he wanted to marry her, but deep down he would have ended up showing his true colors as every other person she’d ever known in her life.

  How had Jaynee known?

  She rethought the question…she had to stop thinking of herself as two people. She was Caycee Jaynee by birth, even if she’d taken the name Caycee Jayne as a stage name. But she wondered how the one part of her had known and the other part of her had chosen to run away.

  Jordan stopped in front of a large black F-150. It wasn’t the same truck, but it was outfitted the same. Ridiculously huge wheels and a lift kit, only this one had chrome running boards attached. He walked to her side to help her into the truck.

  He opened the passenger door, but then his hands lingered on her waist. His hands, large and strong like she remembered, drew her closer. Shielded by the open door, he leaned in close. As all good cops, he’d backed into the parking space. His warm breath caressed her skin as he lightly pressed his lips to her jaw, progressing his way to her ear.

  Brushing her hair off her shoulder, he worked his way down her neck, pressing his lips against her skin at regular intervals. Chills thrilled through her body, starting at every place he touched his lips to her skin, traveling outward to her fingertips, downward, recharging long-dormant areas, and then seemingly shooting straight through her toes.

  She’d be forty years old next week, and Jordan made her feel as if she were seventeen. His mouth moved back up her throat as he slowly worked his way to her lips. She had to stop; she shouldn’t allow this, and yet she didn’t want to stop. Jaynee had known that they would kiss, she saw no way of avoiding it, but Caycee had promised she wouldn’t let it get out of control. Of course, how carried away could they get in a parking lot. Maybe it was better they celebrated her homecoming here instead of at the house. The less time they spent there, the better. Still, she had to stop, she reprimanded herself. It was too much. She didn’t know what Jordan was feeling; she on the other hand was losing self-control—more by the minute.

  “Jordan…” she tried to speak; it wasn’t easy. She felt out of breath as if another panic attack was approaching. But it wasn’t the same breathlessness; this was the good kind. The way a woman felt when she’s in love. She sighed deeply. She couldn’t be in love. Jordan didn’t belong to her. “I’m sick,” she mumbled, still afraid he’d recognize her fraudulence.

  “So...I’ll get sick,” he whispered under his kisses. “It’ll be worth it.”

  Instead of stopping, he kissed her deeper. Her body melted under his touch. Her legs felt numb, and she thought she would collapse at any moment. He gathered her arms around his neck, whi
ch until that moment had been resting lifeless at her side.

  Without a thought, her hands were in his hair. He kept it cropped short as before, like he was still a cop, but it was incredibly soft. The sides had grayed slightly, but as most men, the hint of silver only made him look better. His close-shaven beard against her skin was softer than a clean-shaven face. She ran her hands along the edge of his jaw, remembering how handsome he was.

  Finally pulling back, Jordan sighed. “I was wondering why I wasn’t getting a response. Thought I’d lost my touch. Maybe you’d found someone more interesting in New York.” He smiled slyly as he reached for her luggage, tossing it onto the backseat.

  “No, you haven’t lost your touch, and there definitely isn’t anyone, anywhere who even comes close.” It was the truth; she’d been looking for eighteen years. “You’re still as handsome as the first day I saw you, and you kiss as superbly as our first kiss on the back of your truck on the Dunedin Causeway. I remember it as though it were yesterday.”

  He leaned against the rear door, shutting it, and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close again. “Wow…that’s better. See, this is what I like about you returning from a trip. It’s as if you’re a brand-new woman.” He lowered his head, his breath washing over her neck again. “But…there’s no chance of us…tonight?”

  “Uh…no…sorry, the strangest thing—”

  He cut her off with his hand, cringing. “I don’t need details, two sisters, remember?”

  Caycee smiled. “Yeah, I remember.”

  After assisting her into the truck, he walked around to the driver’s door. He pulled himself up into his seat and went directly to starting the truck and shifting into drive.

  She stared at the center console. Several items rested in the cup holders: change, sunglasses, and a flash drive. So he didn’t slide her into the middle seat anymore? She knew it was bold, but she only had a few days to feel loved; she wanted as much as she could get without going over the boundaries. She removed the few items and placed them into the already over-stuffed glove box, filled with maps and other normal items people never seemed to look at once stored away.

  Jordan watched as she transferred the items and lifted the center armrest. As she slid next to him, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. So it wasn’t completely out of the norm, just not an everyday occurrence, she guessed. She let out the breath she’d apparently been holding, now happily seated beside him.

  “I was thinking, Jaynee, since we are on the west side of town, we should go to lunch at the restaurant I took you for our tenth anniversary. We haven’t been there since that evening, and I know how much you enjoyed it. Why don’t you call and confirm they are open for lunch and on Mondays? You know how a lot of restaurants around here like to close on Mondays.”

  Oops. Could she feign ignorance? Should she text Jaynee and ask the name? He’d think she was looking up the number on her phone.

  Damn, she’d forgotten to escape to the ladies’ room and text Jaynee as soon as she saw Jordan. To let her know all was okay. Jordan had swept her away so swiftly it’d totally slipped her mind. She pulled out her phone; there was a text from a blocked number with no info, just a dash. She quickly deleted it. She knew it meant … What’s going on? She quickly texted Jaynee a ‘1’ then deleted the text.

  Hopefully Jaynee assumed a delayed flight had caused her tardiness, not the fact she’d experienced a panic attack as she was departing the plane and then later had made out with Jordan in the parking lot like a teenager.

  She decided to be somewhat honest. Playing dumb seemed like the best option. How disappointed would he be that she’d forgotten the name of the restaurant? How special had the occasion been?

  “I’m a ditz, Jordan. I’m sorry. I can’t remember the name of the restaurant.”

  His eyebrows furrowed, and he gave her an almost mocking smirk. “Seriously? And here I thought you were the one with a great memory. We can’t both lose our memory, Jaynee, how will we manage when we’re old and gray? Zebra.”

  “Zebra?”

  “The name of the restaurant… Zebra.” He shook his head, releasing a breath that sounded like a chuckle. “Honestly, how can you not remember? You’ve always said it was the most romantic evening.”

  Oh, boy…maybe this week wasn’t possible. Why had she assumed because she’d known Jordan for four days and looked exactly like Jaynee that she could pull this off. She really was crazy. She would have to return tomorrow; she wasn’t going to be able to accomplish this.

  Jordan squeezed his arm around her shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry. Don’t be upset. I understand. You’ve been through a lot of stress lately. Really, I’m sorry. Look it up, though, and see if they’re open for lunch, please.”

  Had she looked upset? She needed to keep her emotions in check.

  She touched her app for Google on her iPhone. Luckily, Jaynee and she had the same phone. Not so unusual…everyone seemed to have an iPhone anymore. They were awesome. She typed in the name Zebra Restaurant, and the French restaurant popped up.

  “They’re open,” she said.

  “Good, let’s do that then. Sound good to you? I’m tired of the same ole diner in Stanfield, and we hardly ever enjoy an afternoon away from the kids. I just wish I had time to take you back to the same hotel afterward. That was fun, too.”

  She smiled and even felt her cheeks warm a little. Here she thought she’d led the exciting life. It sounded like Jordan kept Jaynee quite occupied. He hadn’t touched her those first few days when they’d first met, even though she’d repeatedly thrown herself at him. She wondered what their honeymoon had been like. Jaynee had said he took her to The Venetian in Vegas and that they’d gone hiking, and he’d taken her in a helicopter over the Grand Canyon, but they’d also spent a lot of time at the hotel. What an idiot she’d been.

  Chapter Fifteen

  (Caycee)

  Slipping the Maître’d a folded bill, Jordan requested a nice table.

  When the man walked away, he turned to her while they waited for a table. His arm encircled her waist, pulling her close, unconcerned about displaying affection in public. It wasn’t as though he was doing anything wrong, she just wasn’t accustomed to public displays of affection. The few men she’d dated were nothing like Jordan and hardly touched her in public, always afraid to stir-up a scene.

  She absorbed her surroundings; the décor was comfortable for a French restaurant. The walls, a warm honey-stained pine contrasted nicely with the ebony-black painted chairs. Even for lunch, white linen tablecloths and napkins covered the tables. Inviting countryside pictures, several of which were zebras, decorated the paneled walls, and a stone fireplace on the far wall with built-in wine racks adorning each side lent additional warmth to the restaurant’s French-country ambiance.

  Their host returned promptly, leading them to a separate room in the back with a window overlooking a private stone-floor patio area, surrounded by a brick wall and plants. Curtains closed off the room from the main dining area. She was suddenly nervous, what was all this about? She eyed Jordan carefully as she sat in the chair the host held out for her.

  As soon as the man left, she decided to question Jordan’s motives. “What’s all this about? It’s a Monday afternoon. It’s not my birthday or our anniver—wait…our anniversary’s tomorrow.” Why in the world hadn’t Jaynee reminded her? Jaynee had gotten married a week and a day before her twenty-second birthday, and since her birthday was a week away tomorrow…she sighed, embarrassed, even though it wasn’t as if she’d really forgotten their anniversary. It wasn’t hers to forget.

  He smiled. “Yeah, but you said you wanted to celebrate them both on your birthday, so this doesn’t count.” He shrugged. “Do I have to have a reason?”

  She shook her head. “No, but it seems a little overboard.” Of course, she really didn’t know what was overboard. He could do this every time Jaynee returned home for all she knew; though, his comment earlier abou
t the diner in Stanfield led her to believe this was out of the ordinary. Again, making her wonder why.

  “Jaynee, you told me you’ve been depressed, and I think I know why. I know it’s not our marriage, but I think you need to get out more. We used to go on cruises and ski trips, but since the kids have been so young, we haven’t really gotten away together. They’re older now, old enough to stay with Sissy.” He glanced at the table, unfolding his napkin, and then peeked back up at her, a smile lifting his cheek. “By the way, I have a surprise for you, but wasn’t sure if I should wait until your birthday.”

  Sissy, who was Melissa, Jordan’s oldest sister by about five years, she’d be around fifty. She had two children in college now, so Jaynee had said she loved taking the kids. Evidently, Jaynee had chosen not to leave them to go on vacations, though.

  As much as she wanted to know what Jordan had planned, it wouldn’t be right. It was Jaynee’s surprise, not hers. His first words, Jaynee had been depressed, took her by surprise. She’d known all along that Jaynee had been searching for a reason. Though she didn’t think she was really depressed; she was probably just disheartened, tired of being home all day. Caycee could relate…she felt like that every day.

  “I think I’d like it to be a surprise,” she decided for him.

  A low chuckle escaped his lips. “Okay…that’s a first. You usually bug me until I tell you.”

  “Forty is big…I think I’ll enjoy hearing the surprise on my birthday.” It was eating at her…she really did want to know. They were still the same in almost every aspect, it seemed. She could never wait for surprises, even if she was the one giving them. She would almost always give gifts early.

  The waiter approached, looking to her first for a drink order. “Chardonnay, please,” she requested out of habit.