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“Yes, I’m ready to leave but not because you said it was time to go,” she countered as he opened the door. She strutted her stuff, exiting the store, then caught her reflection in the glass.
Sweet Jesus!
Why was it that when she was dressed to the nines and having a great hair day, she didn’t see a soul? But on those days when she looked like she’d been wrestling feral cats, she ran into her…her pop star husband.
And she was wearing his shirt.
Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
And her appearance should not matter.
If anyone asked about her wardrobe, she’d say she was rocking a retro look. What retro look? Hell if she knew, but it sounded better than the truth. And on the topic of truth, she pegged Landon with her gaze. “What are you doing here? You didn’t buy anything.”
“I saw your car on the way to Raz and Libby’s housewarming party, and—”
“And what?” she asked, cutting him off while wanting to pull her hair out. How had she not put two and two together? Of course Landon would be invited to the get-together.
“And I wanted to see you, Harper. I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
She threw her shoulders back and parted her lips, preparing to discharge a battery of zingers, but the man looked awful. Okay, not awful. Landon Paige had flawless bone structure and a sexy five o’clock shadow that would not quit. Even rocking a ball cap, she knew every hair on his head was in place. He looked as awful as a musical Adonis could look, which was still smokin’ hot. But it was the wretched weariness in his eyes that gave him away.
Don’t feel sorry for this man.
“How did you even know this was Carol?” she asked, pointing to her Volvo heap.
“I saw Carol in Vegas after getting her out of the impound lot for you.”
Crap, he did do that.
“I didn’t need you to do it, but I appreciate it. I’m a big enough person to give credit where credit’s due,” she replied in the least appreciative tone possible.
He took a step toward her. “I can tell you’re mad.”
“You can?” she fired back, feigning shock. “You should talk to Libby. She’s clairvoyant, too.”
He released a pained sigh. “Something came up, and I had to leave. I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”
That tiny kernel of hope in her chest warmed at the thought of Landon watching her sleep.
She stared at the half-dead plant. “Where’d you have to go in such a hurry?”
“I had to return to Denver.”
“And how did you get home?”
“My plane.”
“Your plane? How nice,” she answered, reviving her mega-bitch tone. “I drove twelve hours in the heat in a 1994 Volvo with questionable air-conditioning.”
Cool it, girl.
She wanted to take it down a notch. She truly did. But it hurt to see him after that night—that crazy night where she’d felt invincible. When he’d held her hand, it was as if a force field protected them, shielding them from the outside world and the nagging voices in the back of her head whispering she wasn’t enough.
“I wasn’t thinking clearly when I left, and I’m sorry.” He removed his cap and ran his hand through his hair, then pulled it low to shield his eyes.
She stared at his left hand.
He wasn’t wearing his ring.
