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“Yep.”
“Charlotte, listen, I know we left things unsettled between us.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I think you made yourself perfectly clear about where things stood between us.”
His ears and cheeks pinked. “I suppose I did.”
“Well, that was a fun trip down memory lane. I’m so glad we had this little chat,” I said ten pitches too high. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Charlotte,” he breathed out. “Please, I think we should talk.”
I knew we needed to, but it was the last thing I wanted to do. How could I tell him about Jameson? It was obvious Drake still thought of me as big fat mistake.
I looked down at my filthy self. “I’m busy.”
“And I don’t want to interrupt you. I have meetings through dinner. Perhaps I can take you out for a late drink.”
“Sorry, I’m busy tonight.” You know, reading bedtime stories and snuggling the cutest five-year-old in existence.
“Date?” he hesitated to ask.
“Nothing horrible like that.” I was dead serious. Don’t get me wrong, I was all about the romance—it was just better left for movies and books. It was much more satisfying that way. I loved reading about people’s poor romantic choices much more than living them out myself.
His eyes widened. “You’re married,” he sighed. Of course, he would think that. He obviously thought being with one person for the rest of his life was a fate worse than death.
“Absolutely not.”
He tilted his head. “Is there any way you can change your plans? I’m only in town for one night.”
That was good news. I didn’t think my heart could deal with him for much longer. I’ve never taken drugs before, but my heart felt like it was on a hit of an amphetamine and I was going to OD at any moment. “Sorry, I can’t.” Sure, I could ask Izzy to watch Jameson; they were best buds. But the last thing I needed was to be seen in town with Drake. Jameson was kind of his mini-me and I didn’t need people connecting those dots.
He let out his signature frustrated groan, the one he used when people didn’t automatically acquiesce to his plans or way of thinking. “What about breakfast?”
“Sorry, I’m busy then too.”
“What are you doing?” he demanded to know.
I raised my brow.
He took a deep breath in and out. “I apologize for snapping at you. What you do is none of my business.”
He got that right.
“But,” he continued, “I get the feeling you’re purposely avoiding me.”
“You would know all about how that’s done. What more do we have to say to each other?” I threw out the last words he’d said to me, while climbing back up the ladder.
He practically lunged toward me and tugged on my sleeve. “Charlotte, I deserve that. That and more. Please give me the chance to explain why . . .” He seemed at a loss for words.
I looked down and made the mistake of getting caught in the trap of his imploring sea-green eyes. “Why what?”
“Why I’m such a bastard.”
That sounded like fun. After he explained that, then I could explain why I never told him he was a father. I guess you could say it was because he was a bastard. I never wanted to believe that about him. I thought I knew him better than anyone else. But I was wrong about him, and it was wrong of me to have kept the truth from him. Maybe I should just blurt the truth out now and get it over with, but since he had meetings to get to, it didn’t seem like the right time. Although it was weird he had meetings in Fair Hollow of all places. But I didn’t care to ask with whom.
“Fine. Does coffee here at eight-thirty tomorrow work for you?” That way Jameson would be safely at school. And after I told him, he could be off on his merry way.
“I’ll make it work,” he was quick to agree.
“Okay. Izzy will show you to your room.” That was me begging him to leave.
“I know the way.”
I guess he would.
I bit my lip. “Why did you ask to stay in that room?” Our room.
He rubbed his neck and let out the heaviest of breaths. “Hell, it sounds crazy.”
He had no idea what kind of crazy I had in store.
“How?” I asked.
His eyes caught hold of me again, putting a stranglehold on my wildly beating heart. “I hoped the memory of you here would haunt me.”
I rubbed my chest. “Why would you want that?”
“I’ll tell you over coffee. That way I know you’ll show up.” He gave me an inkling of a smile.
“How do you know I will?”
“Because I know you, Charlotte.” He spun on his heels and headed for the door. “See you later.”
All I could do was blink a hundred times as I watched him go, almost hating him for knowing me so well. Yet, a thread of hope squeezed my heart, thinking I had haunted him as much as he had haunted me over the years. All while knowing that tomorrow might haunt us both for the rest of our lives.
