“No. Not at all. He’d have me there with him 24/7 if possible.”
“So then, this is a problem, because...?”
“I’m getting way too attached. It’s dangerous for me to get attached. When I get attached, something always goes wrong.”
Callie made prayer hands. “This could be the time itdoesn’tgo wrong. Have you thought about that?”
Van tipped her head back with a groan. “You shouldn’t put up with me. You’re the best friend ever, way too wonderful and patient with me. I know you’re right. I do.” She tapped at her temple. “In here. It’s just, well...”
“Love has not been kind to you. I get that. Come here.” Callie reached out.
Van sank into a much-needed hug. “Thank you,” she said when they broke apart.
“For what? I didn’t do anything.”
“For being here, being my friend.”
“I just wish I could convince you that sometimes things actually do work out.”
“I hear you.” A change of subject was definitely in order. “Let’s talk about you. How are things at Bronco Ghost Tours?”
They spent a half hour catching up and left for the house on West Street early.
The whole family was there—including Evan and Daphne. Van took pleasure in watching her mom and Sean together. Her mom seemed genuinely happy with Sean—as happy as Evan was with Daphne. Grandma Daisy talked about the series of watercolors she was working on, and G-G demanded that they all pay her a visit at Wisdom by Winona.
Van loved them all a lot, and she enjoyed the evening.
Except...
Thoughts of Jameson kept intruding. A day away from him and she couldn’t wait to throw herself into his arms again. She needed to get a grip on herself, chill a little when it came to him. She needed to give more time to her real life.
For instance, tomorrow. She ought to head over to Happy Hearts early, have coffee with Daphne and Evan, hang around to help muck out some stalls, gather and prep the necessary materials for upcoming projects at Young Adventurers.
Really, she needed to leave the Double J in time to sleep in her own bed for a change. Using Jameson’s house as her home base had to stop.
When he heard Vanessa’s SUV pull up to the house at nine that evening, relief washed over Jameson, cool and soothing as a dip in a cold creek on a blistering summer day. He’d started to worry she wouldn’t show.
But he opened the door, and she ran to his arms. He kissed her hard and deep—and took her straight to bed.
Later, he got them each a longneck and they drank them right there in bed. She laughed at his story about Slim tangling with a garter snake that bit him on the nose and wouldn’t let go. He asked about her family, and she said everyone was fine.
They started kissing again and that led to more lovemaking. Around midnight, she fell asleep in his arms.
He woke sometime later, alone in the bed. “Vanessa?”
No answer. The bathroom door was wide open, with nothing but darkness inside. He got up and pulled on his Wranglers. With Slim at his heels, he went out into the main room.
No sign of Vanessa. He didn’t really have to check the driveway for her Forester to know she was gone. But he checked it anyway.
He stood on the front step staring at the empty driveway. At his feet, Slim gave a sad little whine. He looked down into those big, soulful brown eyes. “It appears she took off, buddy.”
Back in his room, he sent Slim to his bed in the corner and picked up his phone. No voice mail, no text. He started to call her. But come on, what would he say? Would he end up begging?
Vanessa, please. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.
No.
He needed to wait for the right moment to get into it with her. Two o’clock on Sunday morning wasn’t it. He let it go, though he had no idea when he would see her again, if at all.
