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I don’t want to ask him to try to make something work with me.
The reality is that we live in two different cities and we lead two different lives. He’s got his real estate business and he’s building that big, beautiful house. He’s got a dog and a quiet, peaceful life.
Me?
My life is messy and complicated and a total wreck. I’ve got two kids who adore me and an assistant who can’t stand me. I’ve got fans who love me and reviewers who hate me. Honestly, I kind of have it all, and love it or hate it, that’s my life.
Heath doesn’t need the drama that would come from loving a girl like me.
He doesn’t need the stress that comes from getting involved with a person like Theresa Jones.
“I guess it is,” I whisper.
He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. He just nods and gets out of the car. He starts unpacking the bags and things. We’re right beside my car, so I reach for my keys and hit the “unlock” button. He opens the trunk and starts unpacking everything. Finally, I get out of the car to help him. Carefully, we load my tent, bags, and cooler into the car. When he closes the trunk, we head back to his vehicle to make sure we didn’t leave anything behind. I notice a familiar-looking book cover in the back of the SUV.
“Terri Jones,” I say, reaching for the copy of one of my earliest books.
“Have you heard of her?” He says. “She’s the best.”
“You like Terri Jones?” Color me surprised.
“Of course,” he laughs. “The way she pulls together a story is so fucking funny. Her characters are smart and wonderful. There’s this one book, um, Tales of a Bad Boy Millionaire, and it was so amazing. It had me in stitches from laughing so hard.”
I smile, trying not to talk too much about one of the funniest books I’ve ever written. He’s right when he says that book was one that makes people laugh. It’s probably got the most positive reviews out of everything I’ve ever written. Actually, if there’s one book I’d give people who want to read a Terri Jones book, that’s it. It’s the book I feel the best about.
“That one is good too, though,” he points toward the book I’m holding in my hands. The Bad Boy’s Secret Baby is an older story. It’s one full of twists and turns and surprises. “I’m not finished with it yet.”
“I’m surprised to see a man reading romance,” I tell him.
“Men can enjoy a good kissing book,” he winks. Suddenly, Spot starts barking. “Hang on,” Heath says, and he moves to look at what Spot and the boys are up to. On a whim, I grab one of the pens lying in the back of his vehicle, and I sign the first page of the book. On a second whim, I add my phone number. Maybe it’s a terrible idea, and to be honest, I’m not really sure why I’m doing this, but there’s a part of me that thinks maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for something more.
Then again, maybe it’s just wishful thinking.
I shove the book back in the SUV and close the vehicle. Then I turn to see Spot, Heath, Silas, and Sebastian all running around. My heart hurts a little with the realization that this could very well be it. Maybe I really did just have my first official one-night-stand.
But oh, it was wonderful.
I pull out my phone and power it on for the first time this weekend. I didn’t bother leaving it on. Even if there was cell service at the campsite, I didn’t really want to spend any time thinking about Em or work or books or deadlines. It’s not that I don’t love writing. I do. I totally, completely do.
But sometimes writers need breaks, too, and me? I’m long overdue for a big one.
As soon as my phone turns on, it starts buzzing with notifications. Emails, texts, and even chatting messages from various
apps are popping up. So much for a weekend away. All I wanted was a couple of days to just chill and relax.
I guess maybe that was too much to ask.
I know I’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning, so I really should get going, it’s just that the idea of leaving Heath behind kind of hurts more than it should. And as I stand by the cars looking over at him, I can’t help but love the way he’s treating the boys.
Like they’re his.
Like he’s comfortable with them.
He notices me watching as he pushes Silas on a swing and he waves, smiling. I don’t want to make this moment end, so I pull out my phone and snap a couple of quick pictures. It’s a bad idea. I shouldn’t be taking pictures of the boy who has stolen my heart away without even really trying, but I do. Soon my memories of Heath are going to fade away and the pictures are all I’ll have left.
Finally, he rounds up the boys and brings them over. He hugs them each in turn and loads them up into the car. He closes the doors and turns to me. Then he reaches for me and pulls me close.
“Theresa,” he murmurs. He holds me tightly, but the kids are here, so I doubt he’s going to kiss me goodbye. Maybe it would be weird. Maybe it would be awkward. Maybe it...
