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“Do you want to come along?”
I almost choked. “Um, no.”
He laughed good-naturedly. “I didn’t think so.”
He cleared his throat. “I was, um…” He paused and shifted on the seat. “I was wondering if you might like to go to dinner with me when I get back from this last trip.”
“Dinner?” I blinked my eyes a few times.
“Yeah. I can come get you and we can eat at The Gun Barrell or, you know, wherever.” He seemed nervous.
I frowned slightly. “Did you want to talk about the calendar?”
“Uh, we can, if you want. Or we can talk about us.”
I started to shake, my nerves shattering. “Is this a date?”
“I owe you an apology.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I haven’t been listening to you, and I want us to talk. To talk about the baby. To explain. I don’t know, I just want to not be the ass I was to leave you when I did.”
“An apology?”
My confusion seemed to give him the confidence he was lacking when he arrived. “Yes, I’m sorry. And I’d like to take you out.” His tone was laced with frustration because of my flat responses. “And I would like to apologize and clear up our misunderstandings.”
“Sure,” I stuttered, surprised at the invitation. “Um, yeah.”
He stood. “Okay. I’ll call you when I get back.”
I stood. “Okay.”
We stared at each other for a moment. Then he leaned over and gave me a brief kiss on the cheek. “Have a good night.”
The next few days I floated through work. I couldn’t stop wondering what he would say. What would I say? The ladies at the Foundation thought I was distracted because of the photoshoot that would happen in two weeks, and I didn’t let them believe any differently.
When I wasn’t reading grant requests, Jenna and I talked about the changing weather and the layouts for each month. There was only one moment when my heart sank about the calendar.
“Maybe we’ll get some early snow.” She’d said. “Wouldn’t that be lovely for Jacob’s shot?”
“I thought we were shooting him for August? What are you thinking?” I asked her noncommittedly, trying to mask my growing feelings for Jacob.
“I want him for December. Dress him in a red thong and lay him back on a snowmobile.” She’d been twirling the pencil in her mouth like she wanted something else of his there.
My heart hurt. Jacob wouldn’t like that at all. The month of December, that is.
How could I get him out of it? “Hmmmm. Let me take a look and see how everyone else fits.”
She had simply stared at me, and then slowly said she would consider it.
I felt trapped.
When Jacob returned, he called and told me he would pick me up 7 p.m. on Monday night. I told him I would be ready.
I spent the weekend with Betty Blue, riding out on the Archer property and talking with Lane about leaving her there for a bit longer. “As long you need darlin’, anything for you.”
Sometimes I wished I could love Lane. He was always the perfect gentleman. But I’d given my heart away a long time ago and could never really find space for anyone else.
Monday night, Jacob arrived in his personal car, a sleek sedan he had purchased when he first signed with the Seahawks. He didn’t drive it often.
I heard the clomp of his shoes on the steps up to the door, and then a three-knock rap.
