Yes, she decided. It said everything.
“So that’s it?” he asked. “She said she knew me, nothing more?”
It felt as if a bomb had gone off in her chest. An explosion of mean racing heat. “Uh… yeah. I mean, no. She said something else.” She attempted to pour the sugar back into the packet, frowning as it spilled. “It was weird,” Meg said, “she just asked if I was with you. Said something about, well, I guess she went out with you at some point. She went on to imply that you were a womanizer, I guess.”
“Huh.” Jake’s gaze was set on the mess she was making with the scattered crystals of sugar. “And what did you say?”
Meg propped the open sugar packet against the napkin holder and wiped the remaining granules off the table. “Nothing.” She turned her face away from him and imagined learning that all of it was true. Imagined hearing him admit to going through women faster than Meg went through blank pages on a bad art day.
Her fear kicked up tenfold.
It wasn’t silly for her to feel afraid, she told herself. Not at all. Because she had a lot to lose. Jake had given her something over the last few days. Given her something that Michael had failed to give in three year’s time: He made her feel valued. Cherished. Good enough. He’d made her feel worthy of a commitment – worthy of his commitment. She chanced losing that if she pushed. Even if it was an illusion, even if Jake went around making every woman feel this way, she still wasn’t willing to let go of it. Not yet.
Breakfast in the diner was ruined. The ride home was even worse. All Meg could do was think about losing Michael and Jake. Of starting over altogether. Of course, she did her best to stay on top of what little conversation took place, but she knew better than to think she was fooling Jake.
What difference did it make? He was probably just glad to be off the hook. It had to be why he didn’t want to introduce her to his family. He probably never introduced women to his family. Sure he’d mention it on occasion, make the woman think she was important enough. But in the end, he had no intention of following through.
He would be leaving tomorrow morning anyway, or would he leave tonight?
No matter. Either way, Meg had her mind made up to move back to Montana – she was grateful for that. But who she’d spend that time with remained to be seen.
Chapter Ten
Somber energy stifled the kitchen air, making it hard for Jake to breathe. He’d been planning to have a serious talk with Meg that day. Planned on telling her just how much he cared for her. Telling her about his short-lived run as a playboy, and his dedication to steer clear of that activity for the last year. Seems like a girl from his past beat him to the punch.
By the physical description Meg gave, Jake figured it was Carrie. He hadn’t done right by that woman, and figured she was smearing his name through all the mud she could find.
He knocked his knuckles on the counter, shaking his head in frustration. Meg had clammed up after the incident. Ignored him while finishing the last few batches, and then insisted she go out back and check for missed grapes while he stayed in the kitchen tending to the processor. Like there was anything to it. Stand there. Wait for the steam to reduce the grapes to juice. Nearly an hour of standing and pacing and going crazy in his own head. They had only two batches left. Two batches, and she insisted on separating.
“Damn it,” he grumbled under his breath. He couldn’t let this woman go. He was crazy about her. About the snarky way she spoke back to him. The way she studied the beauty of simple, everyday items. The way she felt in his arms.
A quick lift of the lid told Jake they had another twenty minutes to go before bottling the juice. Now might be a good time to go on back there, insist that she stop picking for a minute, and talk. Talk about his past. About their future. She hadn’t exactly come out and said she was done with Michael, but she’d nearly said as much with her behavior. Any outsider watching Jake and Meg the last few days would guess they were an item. And that suited him just fine.
With the exhale of a deep breath, Jake looked out the window. There she was, hunched beneath a patch of leaves, the empty-looking basket by her side. A laugh bubbled up in his throat. They’d already picked all the grapes, done a thorough job of it too. She wasn’t going to find anything. He tapped on the window with the exhale of a nervous breath.
Meg spun around and glared at him through the glass.
Jake smiled. Half nervous, half entertained, and cracked the thing open a few inches. “You getting anything?” A small laugh coated the last word.
“Yep,” she hollered without delay.
“Let me see.” He covered another smile as Meg lifted a single cluster – a small one at that – high in the air for him to see.
Another chuckle. “That’s it?”
Meg dropped the cluster back into her basket without another word.
Hmm. That hadn’t gone too well. Okay, it was time to stop putting this off. He’d go out there, sit down with her, and say everything he needed to say.
With his mind made up, he rounded the counter and stepped toward the sliding glass door. He had a solid grip on the handle when the loud chime of the doorbell filled the house. An eerie echo hummed in his ears like an ominous, pulsing beat.
In all the days he’d been there, the only person to ring that bell had been the delivery guy Jake sent for.
Should he answer it himself or call for Meg? Meg, he decided. Definitely. He slid open the sliding glass door. “Someone’s at the door,” he called.
Meg didn’t budge. Kept her head beneath the foliage. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you answer it?”
He huffed out a breath. “No. Do you want me to?”
Meg made a scene of coming to a stand, adjusting her clothes dramatically as she stomped toward the sliding door. “I guess I’ll get it.” She kept her head high as she walked past, glancing at him for the slightest of seconds.
Jake gave her a grin, one she almost returned.
The bell rang again. A knock followed.
“I’m surprised they haven’t left yet,” Meg grumbled.
Jake followed her into the front room, watched as she opened the heavy oak door and squinted his eyes as he took in the sight at the other side of the screen. A sharp knot sunk deep into his gut.
Meg gasped. Took a step back, and spoke the one word Jake least wanted to hear on her lips. “Michael?”
Chapter Eleven
How in the… What in the… “What are you doing here?” Meg asked. It hurt to look at him. Why did it hurt to look at him?
Michael’s eyes looked red and swollen. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She pushed open the door and held it with her arm.
Michael stepped inside, his presence bringing a strange, new energy into the room.
“Do you want to have a seat, or…” The sentence dropped as Meg realized what Michael was staring at. Who was more like it.
Her eyes trailed a slow and timid path toward the other man in the room. The one who stood no more than three feet from her: Jake.
His arms were crossed, his broad shoulders tight, and his posture squared straight toward the door. There was a challenge written in the dark glare in his eyes, one that lit a small fire in Meg’s tummy.
“This is Jake,” she managed through a shaky breath. When Jake’s arms didn’t budge or loosen to shake hands, Meg glanced back at Michael. She cleared her throat. “And Jake, this is Michael.”
The two settled for head nods. And then their attention was set back on her.
“Can I talk to you alone some place?” Michael asked. “Maybe out here on the porch?” His eyes darted to Jake before settling back on her.
It took nearly everything she had in her, but Meg did not look back to Jake. “Sure,” she said. Out the front they went. The sun had started its slow descent toward the horizon, but Meg couldn’t get herself to even look for the sunset. Something was happening inside her. Something sh
e couldn’t describe. A celebration, maybe. A bit of triumph, too. Michael had come clear out here for her. She mattered that much to him. That was satisfying. So satisfying she wanted to smile or squeal or… or throw up.
“Do you want to sit?” she asked.
Michael shook his head and glared toward the house. “Let’s walk.”
“Okay.” She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket as she took the stairs, unwilling to hold his hand. She didn’t appreciate the curt tone he took with her. The entitlement in his face and words and voice. He was entitled to nothing – as per his own stupid preference to remain unattached – and she’d make sure he knew it.
She started up with a fast pace once they hit the sidewalk. A sidewalk she hadn’t trailed in years. “Well?”
He stopped walking at her prompt, but Meg continued.
“That’s all you have to say?” he asked, gaining speed to catch up with her once more.
“I’m still waiting to hear what you have to say. I assume Shayna told you about Jake.”Why did she like the sound of his name so much? He was most likely just as much of a dead end as Michael was.
“Yeah, she did. And you know what my first thought was?”
This time Meg stopped walking and spun to face him. “What?” She looked at him – really looked as the familiar connection between them linked together once more. The pull of three years spent giving and taking and building something that mattered. It mattered, she assured herself.
“My first thought was…” he ran a hand over the back of his neck. “It was, I am such an idiot.”
Satisfaction – the deep and thorough kind she’d longed for all these months and days and years – settled over her. First over her skin, creating a ripple of goosebumps up her arms. And then into her heart – kindling the warmth she still torched for him.
“I’ve been a fool to string you along the way I have,” he continued. “I don’t know why I was dragging my feet so much. I was scared, I’ll admit. But this… having you spend time with some cowboy from your hometown – hearing that you have feelings for one another – that scares me a whole lot more than committing ever has.”
The comment rubbed Meg wrong. Her head tilted. The warm feeling cooled. The goosebumps on her skin disappeared.
She folded her arms. “Huh.” He looked scared, all right. Like a scared little boy trying to get out of trouble just a little too late.
“I want you to come back to Denver with me,” he said.
Meg leaned on one hip, lips closed, eyes locked on him.
“And then we can talk about our future. We don’t need to make definite plans or anything, but I do know one thing for sure. I definitely don’t want you to date anybody else. Not ever again.” He stepped closer to her, slid his hand along her jaw, and looked at her with penitent eyes. “I’m sorry for being so stupid.”
~ + ~
Jake could not believe his eyes. Was she really falling for that stuffy jerk and his load of bull crap? Could the guy really win her back so easily?
He stepped away from the window, wishing the vision of Meg and the idiot touching her would disappear as quickly as the actual view of them. But it stayed in his head, even through the new view before him. The carpet in the front room, the tiled floor in the kitchen. The stove, processor, and the steam rising from it as he lifted the lid.
Grapes are ready, he realized. Jake prepped the bottles numbly, positioning the oven rack as visions of Michael’s hand on Meg’s face burned at his insides. He couldn’t let that guy just step in and steal her away, could he?
The words steal her away seemed to bite back. He was the one who’d stolen the girl, wasn’t he? She’d been with this guy for years now. Had told Jake about him from the beginning.
But told him what? That she was with a guy who was too much of a fool to make her his. The guy deserved to lose her, as far as Jake was concerned.
“Mind if I take over for you?”
The voice of Thomas Bolton took Jake by surprise. He glanced toward the mudroom, realizing he must have come through the back door.
Thomas cleared his throat as he walked through the dining area. “I just uh… figured I’d bottle up the last few quarts,” he explained. “Thinking of Meg’s mother the way that I am, it’d probably do me some good. A bit of healing, as they say.”
Jake gave him a nod. “Sounds like a good idea.”
Thomas caught his gaze once more, angling his head to give him a knowing look. “That means you can go find Meg.”
“Oh. I don’t want to bother – ”
“Go on,” he said sternly. “She’s just down the street. I’ll finish up here.” He began removing his suit coat. “Hurry now. I don’t want her with that Colorado kid any more than you do.”
Realization struck – he had her father’s approval. A warm dose of appreciation washed over him, filling him with new determination.
At once he gave Thomas a nod and bolted for the door. The view from the porch was similar to the one he’d seen moments ago. Only this time they were walking toward the house instead of away from it. Lit by the sun on the sidewalk. Michael reached a long arm behind Meg and pulled her against his side as they moved. Meg tipped her head toward him, walked willingly by his side. Slow strides. Words at their lips that Jake couldn’t hear. Words he didn’t want to hear.
A mean blade of heat pierced his chest, the contents seeming to pool around his ribs like lava. His throat tightened along with his fists.
Perhaps the guy had finally come to his senses. What if he had proposed down the block? Were the pair on their way back, ready to announce the news to her dad?
Jake’s heart sputtered and clanked. He couldn’t wait around for that. Couldn’t handle hearing that kind of news. Thomas had freed Jake from the chore in the kitchen, but he couldn’t use that freedom in the way the man intended. Not after seeing her cuddled up to Michael.
And not after the day he and Meg had had.
The two had barely spoken since breakfast. Since the woman from Jake’s past had soiled his name. Planted doubts in Meg about his character. Hell, she was probably happy to run back into Colorado-guy’s arms.
With roaring flames in his chest, the thundering pound in his heart, Jake sunk a hand into his pocket, fished out his keys, and made for the truck. By the grace of God, he’d parked along the street instead of the driveway. At least he’d be able to sneak away without making a spectacle of himself.
He walked faster as he neared the truck, anxious to get away from the scene. Chances were, Meg was too caught up in the moment to notice. Jake roared up the truck, sunk the pedal to drive away. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was leaving behind. A woman who was better off without him, or a woman who’d just reentered the trap of her past.
Whichever the case, one thing was certain. Jake was leaving behind a woman he was meant to love. And he wasn’t sure he’d ever recover.
Chapter Twelve
“Wonder where he’s going in such a huff,” Michael said, speaking Meg’s thoughts aloud.
Meg broke free from the arm he had around her back and stopped walking, a sick knot twisting in her gut. This didn’t look good. If Jake had seen the two of them walking together, he would have definitely gotten the wrong idea. He couldn’t have known that only minutes ago, Meg had broken things off with Michael. Told him she’d be staying in Montana whether she ended up with the cowboy (as he’d called him) or not.
She’d simply been saying goodbye to the man she’d spent the last few years of her life with. Saying goodbye to the friendship and all it meant to her.
But Jake couldn’t have known that.
She’d seen emergency flares burst into flame, recalled the time her father lit one when the car broke down on the freeway one night. It felt as if that very flare had struck its fiery flame right inside her chest. It was screaming for help. Calling for action. But there was none to take.
She told herself that very thing as she sent Michael back to the airport, bac
k to his life in Colorado. There was nothing she could do. She didn’t have Jake’s cell phone number to reach him – hadn’t needed it, seeing that the two had spent every waking moment together the last week.
The sunset came and went quickly. Meg rested quietly in the chair by the front room window, waiting. She held a book in her hands, Art and Fear, a book she’d read nearly a hundred times. A book she adored like a cherished friend. And though she wasn’t reading it right then – distracted as she was – the well-worn paperback offered comfort.
“Time to hit the sheets, young lady.” Dad’s voice came from the dark entry of the hallway. “I’m sure he’ll be back tomorrow to get his things.”
“To get his things?” Was that all he needed to do?
Quiet footsteps shuffled into the room. “Well Meggy, he most likely thinks you’ve left to be with Michael. But when he comes back, you can set him straight.”
Meg nodded, bit at her lip, and wiped the silent tears that streamed down her cheeks.
“If it makes you feel any better, I called over to the Barnhart’s place, asked if he’d shown up. Billy said he’d come by to get a few things and was headed back home to the best of his knowledge.”
She turned toward her dad, eyeing him through the shadows. “You did? You called?”
“Mm, hmm.”
“When?”
He chuckled under his breath. “Uh, about ten minutes ago.”
Meg gasped. “Dad, what time is it?”
“Not quite midnight.” A hint of shame coated the words. “Hell, I’ve come to care for him too, you know? He’s a good man, that one. Barnhart’s can’t say enough about him.”
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