“When did that ridiculous woman even have time to change his ringtone?” I groan, ignoring how my traitorous heart leaped when it saw his name.
Add “change Jack’s ringtone back to normal,” to my never-ending to-do list.
Thanks for nothing, Emy.
Okay, when I answer this, I have to play it cool. I didn’t just see a revealing picture of him or have a meltdown over the odd feelings spiraling inside because of said picture.
Nope. Totally unaffected by his merciless hard lines of muscle and piercing gaze. Everything is totally fi—
“Hello, you’ve reached Petunia’s Pancake Parlor. Will this be for pickup or delivery?” I wince at my forced joke greeting the minute it leaves my mouth.
“Oh, god. Pancakes sound so good. Do you deliver?” Jack’s morning voice, thick with gravel, rasps against my ear. Warmth blossoms in my chest.
“Are you still in bed?” I ask.
Shoot, no, I shouldn’t be thinking about Jack in bed. That’s a dangerous combo.
“Just enjoying my last day before the season’s craziness starts tomorrow.” He yawns. “How’d your appointment go?”
“Oh—um.” I swipe at the tears dotting my cheeks, shifting into drive and leaving my disastrous visit in the rearview mirror. “How are you feeling about the game tomorrow?”
He chuckles, shifting in bed. I can practically hear him mussing his hair, still half asleep like he did so many times on the couch this summer under the influence of some serious narcotics. “Must have been a shitshow if you’re avoiding telling me about it, huh?”
“Yeah, it was…less than ideal.” The whites of my knuckles flash as I twist and tighten my grip on my steering wheel while I pause at an intersection. Turning right, I wave at a few locals in passing cars headed to their jobs at the local resort. Soon, when the last leaves fall, and winter settles into the hills, the town will hibernate, but for now, Chawton Falls is alive and thriving.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I know you were looking forward to the appointment.”
“I don’t know if ‘looking forward’ is quite the terminology I’d use, but I was feeling something akin to hope, I guess. It’s fine. I’ll survive.”
“You always do.” The usual brashness of his teasing tone softens. “But I hate this for you. You know my offer from the summer still stands, right?”
I sigh. Jack offered to pay to send me to one of the doctors in Boston, hoping I’d have better luck in the metropolitan area. Still, I don’t know if I could handle the guilt of another medical professional’s dismissal, knowing I cost him thousands of dollars.
“And I appreciate it, but they’re probably right, and I’m just a hypochondriac or something, and then you’d be out a buttload of money because of my neurosis, and I know I’m spiraling, and I swear I’m grateful for you—” Tears trickle again, and I pause to collect myself.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just know the offer is there if you want to take it. Not a big deal.”
“Thank you again.”
“Anytime. I’ve got you. So, anyway. How’s the fair planning going this week?”
An ugly amount of snot runs down my nose, and I grab a nearby napkin and swipe at it, laughing at the mess I am this morning. “Oh god, that’s an utter disaster too. You’ll never guess what happened this morning.”
“Did you lose the bonnet box?”
“Don’t even joke about that!” I shriek. It took years to curate the bonnet collection thanks to my co-planner Bridget’s stringent historical accuracy standards. I will guard it with my life until the end of times. “No, but two major characters eloped this morning, and they’re headed to California now. So I have to findtworeplacements before next week. It’s a nightmare.”
“Damn. Any ideas of who could fill in?”
“Oh! Actually, I was hoping you’d bail me out,” I joke, laughing at the thought of Jack running around in breeches and using a mangled British accent. The man would absolutely never.
“You know, I would love to, but I think I have a hockey game that day or something.”
“You’re so cute playing your little game with your little stick.”
Where you get thrown into penalty boxes because—
Oh my word, no Aulie. Bad.
