He said what?
“I missed your birthday party?” Heather asked. She looked to Jase. “You told herwhat?”
He didn’t meet her gaze. The family shit Jase was talking about was Babushka’s birthday party?
Heather’s heart did a dive to her stomach. “I didn’t know. He didn’t tell me.”
Jase still didn’t meet her gaze.
“You said you invited her,” Babushka huffed.
“No, what I said was she had other plans. I also encouraged you not to make her feel bad about it.”
Heather ground her back teeth together. “I didn’t have other plans, Jase.”
“Everyone else was there.” Babushka waved her hand. “All my friends.” She paused. “Except the girl who is like my own daughter.”
“Laying it on a little thick there.” Jase ran his thumb over his bottom lip. “Heather, I was protecting you from all the family drama.”
The numb realization that he’d lied to keep her away from his family settled over her. He’d given her a fantastic prom. An amazing weekend. And he’d still tucked part of himself aside.
She couldn’t do this. Not again. Not jump into the deep end and discover she was the only one actually in the water.
Her lips parted. Her fingers went cold.
The anger didn’t come. The fast breaths. The threat of tears. She was just numb. No feeling. Because she was certain that once she started to feel it was going to hurt.
A lot.
“I think I need a walk.” She pushed past him.
“Heather,” he called.
She just shook her head and kept walking. He didn’t follow. She hit the corner of the block. Her breaths came in sharp exhales.
She was Heather Reese. A sexy florist couldn’t ruin her morning. A hunky guy couldn’t ruin her day. And another bad decision couldn’t ruin her life.
Was that what this was with him? A bad decision?
She lapped the city block once, twice, three times.
Her focus had slipped. That’s all. Steely resolve held her up as she came around the corner to her street. She paused at the window to the jewelry store. She’d lost her focus. She’d spent how many months looking for that talisman of a promise ring to herself? Since she’d been with Jase, she’d slipped.
She pushed open the door to the jewelry shop.
“Heather, how is the cookie business?” Chandra asked, her tone off.
Of course it was, she was friends with Jase’s mother. Jase’s mother, who hated her.
That didn’t matter now. “I came back for that ring.” She paused. Fingertips to forehead, she pulled herself together. “Except I left my purse at the shop. I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t wait for Chandra’s response. She just hurried back to the sidewalk, heading toward her storefront. The bleat of a smoke alarm echoed down the street. Candy stood near the open door of her shop, ushering customers outside.
Heather’s feet wouldn’t move.
No. Shit. She’d forgotten the cookies.
She sprinted to the building. The soles of her shoes slapped the sidewalk like punctuation to a poorly written business plan. Nothing was on fire, she was just burning the shit out of some cockies. She passed Babushka by her van and skidded through the door, the scent of burnt sugar scorching her nostrils. A thick arm wrapped around her belly, pulling her back outside. She’d know that scent anywhere—cinnamon, cloves, and freshly cut flowers.
