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As he grabbed his cowboy boots and the rest of his things and walked to the living room, he waited for her to follow him. Instead, the house was still and quiet. It would be a few more hours until dawn arrived. No need to worry about Emma getting the wrong idea. By the time she woke up, Jake would be back in Falling Brook at his impersonal hotel.
The Christmas tree mocked him with a cheerful glow. It was still lit, because Jake and Nikki had been too desperate for each other to pay attention. When he was completely dressed, he listened one more time to see if Nikki was going to waylay him. To lecture him about road safety. To tell him what a stubborn, closed-off bastard he was.
But nothing happened.
The front door had one of those twist locks that didn’t require a key to be secured from the inside. When he was bundled up, he opened the door, stepped out into the hushed silence and waded through the snow.
He was alone in a deserted landscape.
Nikki cried for an hour, cried until her nose was stuffed up and her chest hurt. For long minutes, she had expected a knock on the front door. She had strained to hear it. Because it would be Jake admitting that the weather was too bad to leave.
Apparently, risking life and limb was preferable to staying with her.
How could he make love to her so beautifully and feel nothing?
If Jake had shown any glimmer of interest in a permanent relationship, Nikki would have fought for their future. She would have traveled anywhere with him. Emma hadn’t started school yet. And Roberta might soon be going back to the friends she had known for decades.
But Jake had run from Nikki yet again, because of shadows from his past. She was long beyond what had happened fifteen years ago. She wasn’t reliving old hurts, not anymore. She deserved a man who would love her, body and soul. Maybe he was out there somewhere.
In the meantime, she had to let Jake go. The hurt was like severing a limb, but it would only hurt worse if she refused to face the truth. Jake Lowell didn’t love her. He couldn’t. He was too empty inside.
The trouble with heartbreak and emotional meltdowns was that the world kept on turning. Emma bounced into Nikki’s bedroom at seven, her impish personality bolstered by a good night’s sleep.
Nikki managed not to groan. “Hi, baby.”
“Where’s Mr. Man?”
“Why would you ask that, hon?”
“It was snowing last night. You told me we couldn’t drive in snow. Remember?”
“Ah. Well, that was us. Mr. Jake is a very good driver. So he went home after you were in bed.”
“When is he coming back?”
“I don’t know.” Nikki, in desperation, changed the subject. “Let’s get you some breakfast, so you’ll be ready to play when Grandma gets here.”
In typical Jersey fashion, the weather pattern had shifted again. It was too early in the season for sustained cold temps. The snow was already melting, and the sun was out. The streets were a slushy mess. But not particularly dangerous.
Nikki’s shift at the diner started at ten today. Though she was glad it wasn’t any earlier, she still didn’t know how she was going to make it through eight hours of on-your-feet work. Lots of caffeine maybe. And a stone-cold commitment not to think about stupid, emotionally stunted rich men.
Roberta Reardon didn’t spare Nikki’s feelings when she arrived. “You look terrible. Are you getting the flu?”
“No, Mom. I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well.”
“I see you have your tree up. How did you manage that since I last saw you?”
Emma answered, innocently. “Mr. Man helped.”
Roberta’s eyebrows went up. “Mr. Man?”
“Jake. He had dinner with us.” Nikki glanced at her daughter. “Go take off your pajamas and get dressed, please.”
When Emma headed for her bedroom, Roberta pressed for more. “And?”
“And nothing. He’s getting to know Emma. He wants to be part of her life.”
Her mother’s smile was gentle. “You don’t seem happy about that.”
