“He mentioned things like snowmobiling, skiing. Maybe some snowboarding, too. All the stuff we specialize in around here. Stuff I’ve been doing for years.”
“All of the things you’ve been told by Dr. Franklinnotto do.”
“Yes.” He didn’t deny it. “I was advised not to continue doing those excursions.”
Irritation began to bubble within her. She exhaled a deep breath, aiming for composure before continuing. “I’m not understanding how this is any different, Lance.”
Laney pitched a chunk of chicken onto the floor and Sarah bent down to pick it up. She placed it on the wrapper with herhalf eaten grilled cheese. Her appetite had left her, along with any remaining patience she might still possess.
“It’s different in the fact that this might be the last time I ever get to do these things.” He shrugged.
“Just to be clear, you’re wanting to participate in this ‘adventure’”—she made air quotes around the words, even though she was aware how patronizing that came across—“with Hector, knowing full well that you might injure your knee beyond repair.”
“Figured I might as well go out with a bang.”
Sarah couldn’t continue this conversation, not while maintaining her dignity and any semblance of self-control. She stole a glance at her watch, not even registering the time, but needing an excuse to go. “I have to get Laney to my parents and then head back to the Inn.” She pushed back from the table with two hands.
“Sarah. I want to discuss this opportunity with you,” Lance insisted.
Her movements were swift and purposeful as she tossed their discarded food wrappers into the bag before crumpling the top as she folded it over. “It doesn’t seem like you want to discuss anything. It seems like your mind is already made up,” she said, her tone a mixture of frustration and hurt. “And that’s the most disappointing part of it all.”
CHAPTER 24
Lance chucked his keyring across the entryway. It landed a solid foot from its destination on the side table, clattering to the wooden floor with a loud jangle. He didn’t bother to stoop and pick it up. He didn’t pick up his jacket, either, when it missed the hook and slid down the wall into a wrinkled heap of fabric.
Tahoe jumped on top of it, rooting around like it was all a game.
Lance didn’t even have the energy to tell the dog to leave the piece of clothing alone.
He could deal with Sarah’s anger. But her disappointment? That was so much worse.
Back when he’d been a young boy, he vividly remembered the time he’d broken his mother’s favorite rooster figurine that served as the centerpiece on their small dining table. He’d been tossing a ball against the wall, even after being repeatedly asked to stop doing so. On that last bounce, it hit the corner funny, sending the bouncy ball askew, careening straight toward the rooster’s big crest. It snapped clean off.
Lance had lied about it, saying he didn’t have anything to do with the mishap. But his mother had known better. And whenhe finally came clean later that night after a restless attempt at sleep, he’d asked if she was mad at him. She wasn’t. Not mad, just disappointed. And he’d never felt worse about his behavior.
Until now.
Tonight, he made a beeline for the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of amber-colored ale he had left over from the holidays. The bottlecap popped off when he jammed it against the ledge of the counter. He didn’t bother picking that up, either.
His small cabin was a bachelor pad by definition, but Lance usually prided himself on its neatness and order. Right now, he didn’t care about any of that. His thoughts, his heart, and his emotions were a mess. The disarray within his own home seemed fitting.
Collapsing into his recliner, he yanked hard on the handle, sending the footrest snapping back. Seizing the moment, Tahoe took the opportunity to leap into his lap.
“Oomf!” Lance gripped the neck of the beer bottle to keep from dropping it upon impact. “Get down, boy.”
Tahoe ignored the command and instead walked a circle across Lance’s thighs before curling into a contented ball.
“Hmm.” Maybe Lance could use the comfort, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Fine. You can stay. For now.”
He’d thought about calling Sarah. Actually, it was all he could think about. But he knew she had the crafting activity planned at In Stitches, followed by another group dinner at the Inn. A dinner he’d originally been invited to. He doubted that invitation still stood.
Not that he was hungry anyway. He knew a single beer on an empty stomach wouldn’t have any effect, but if he wallowed any longer with a drink in hand, he’d have to eat something. He decided instead to limit himself to one bottle.
Holden had asked what had happened the moment Lance stepped from the breakroom. Was it really that obvious?Apparently so, as Sarah had completely bypassed her brother on her way out, not even stopping long enough for a hug or even a goodbye.
“I take it you’ve messed up big time,” Holden had said knowingly.
And he had. Lance was in the doghouse, and he didn’t know how to crawl out of it.
