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“Nobody will believe it,” he growled.
“You’re either joking or you’re an idiot. They’ll believe anything if it’s scandalous enough. Especially when it comes to our families.”
“Damn it.” He shifted and crossed his arms. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
“It’s the twenty-first century. Women have sex.”
Right. But that wasn’t the point for Sophie. She wasn’t just a woman. She’d grown up in scandal. In a fishbowl. She needed to get the hell out of here, so she could be whoever she wanted to be.
“You want another beer?” Shane asked.
“No, I’d better hit the road.”
“Okay. I need to get over to Merry’s. She’s pretty torn up about today. She hates for people to be unhappy.”
Alex cracked a smile. He could see that. She always seemed cheerful. Carefree. Nothing that he could understand, but she definitely made him smile. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow, then.”
Alex made sure the kitten wasn’t following him before he slipped out the door, eager to escape and equally worried that he had nowhere to escape to.
It was late. She had no reason to see him. He’d stood there and watched her cry and done nothing. Jesus. Why hadn’t he seen what had happened to her today? He’d spent too damn much of his life on the defensive, worried about himself, guarding against others.
He’d been watching out for himself so long that he didn’t know how to take care of anyone else. Not even a damn kitten.
But he still wanted to be with Sophie tonight. He wanted to climb into her bed and draw her close and sleep like that. Just for one more night. That’d be enough. He’d make it enough.
Alex wasn’t often given to indecision, but he stood in the cold moonlight and stared down the street for a long while before he started toward her place.
She had no reason to let him in. All he could do was ask. And hope.
He breathed in the night air, crisp and clean and scented only with aspen. He’d been so familiar with that in his youth that it seemed too common to have forgotten. But he’d gotten used to the ocean smells of California and Alaska and most of the places he went. There were no aspen on the plains of Canada.
Alex inhaled and turned toward her house.
The windows were dark. Dark as the night around them. “Damn,” he breathed. He took out his phone.
Sophie? Are you awake? I’m outside...
Christ, that sounded pitiful. But he was pitiful, wasn’t he? Wandering around the dark streets of Jackson like a homeless dog. This place was bad for him. Diminishing or regressive or just sad.
She didn’t write back. He was almost relieved. He could go back to that hotel and feel sorry for himself, tell himself he was a damn victim. Carry on the legacy.
He texted one last time. I’m sorry. And started back toward his bike.
The porch light snapped on.
He spun on his heel.
“You were already gone,” she said, standing there in a T-shirt that came down to her thighs and hair that stood out in a wild mess.
“What?” Alex murmured, too distracted by the sight of her.
“You left. So what are you doing here now?”
“I was at my mom’s...”
“No. I mean you were headed out of town when I called. So why are you here?”
He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing. He’d left without a word, and he’d known it was wrong when he did it. “I came by,” he finally said. “More than once.” In fact, that had been the reason for his late start, though he couldn’t make himself admit that.
