The next day was pretty bad. More than once, he had to quell the powerful impulse to whip out his phone and call her—or worse, to jump in his pickup and go looking for her.
He didn’t do it.
A man had his pride, after all.
Van knew she needed to put up or shut up—to actually talk to Jameson, try to work it out with him, however that might end up going. Or to leave him alone.
Working it out, though? The thought simply paralyzed her.
Because she’d tried to work it out so many times in her life before. And every time, she ended up messed over and left behind. Maybe for once, she should try a different way.
They’d agreed where this was going when they started in together. She’d wanted it to last until the end of August.
But she needed to face facts here. The longer she let it go on, the more she would suffer when it ended.
All that day, she waffled between letting last night be their final night and simply staying away—or going to him, trying to talk to him, to explain to him, to somehow get him to see that she needed to walk away now, that sticking through another month would only make it harder to say goodbye.
Explaining herself to him—or just disappearing. Both options seemed weak and wrong and selfish. Probably because both options were all three of those things.
Around five, alone in the apartment with Callie still at work, Van made her decision. She would stay away. He deserved better than to have to deal with her baggage and excuses.
Ten minutes later, she grabbed her keys and ran out the door.
Feeling pretty damn low, Jameson sat on the front step with Slim. As he watched the cottony clouds roll by in the wide, blue sky, he kept thinking he ought to drag himself inside, find something for dinner.
So far, he hadn’t budged an inch.
“Come on, boy. Let’s rustle up some grub.”
He was just about to get up and go inside when Vanessa’s Subaru came flying over the last ridge on the access road from the highway. Kicking up dust devils, the silver SUV raced right for him. When she turned into his driveway, she hit the brakes hard, spun the wheel and sent a wild spray of dirt and pebbles flying in the air behind her.
Slamming to a stop inches from the garage door, she jumped from the car and ran around the back end of the vehicle as he rose to his height from his perch on the step. Beside him, Slim let out a whine that might have been a greeting but sounded more like pure apprehension.
“Stay, boy,” he said low. “It’s okay.”
Slim plunked his haunches back down as she strode up the front walk.
Stopping a few feet from him and the dog, she dragged in a big breath, swiped a wild curl of hair out of her eyes and announced, “All right. I get that we really do have to talk.”
“Come on inside.” He spoke softly, soothingly, the way he would to a nervous filly. Turning, he pulled open the door for her.
She marched past him into the foyer. He ushered Slim in behind her and took up the rear. She only got as far as the grouping of oversize sofas and easy chairs around the fireplace. Halting beside the low, long coffee table, she knelt to greet Slim, who dropped to his butt and sat looking up at her hopefully as she stroked his forehead and rubbed his skinny back.
“Right here is fine.” She gave Slim one last pat on the head and then rose.
With a low whine, his tail dragging a little, Slim headed for his water bowl. Even the dog knew something bad was happening.
As Slim lapped up water by the counter in the kitchen, Jameson gestured toward a chair. “Let’s sit down.”
“No, thanks.” She stuck her hands in her pockets, her eyes not quite meeting his. “I’ll stand.”
Judging by the frantic look of misery on her face and the rigid set of her shoulders, he didn’t hold out a lot of hope for whatever she planned to say—and that made his gut twist in a knot. She hadn’t even dumped him yet, and already he was feeling the pain.
Desperate to make the moment go in a better direction, he said, “I’ve got an idea...”
She blinked. Apparently, she hadn’t banked on him making suggestions before she finished telling him goodbye. “I, um, what?”
“Let’s go out, you and me. Right now. We’ll have dinner at DJ’s Deluxe or that great French place, Coeur de l’Ouest. If you’re in the mood for casual, we can get pizza or stop in at Bronco Burgers. It doesn’t matter where we go, just that we do it. Let’s walk out of here together and go where we want to go and not hide away here like we’re some dirty secret.”
