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I felt the blood drain from my face, and I stuck my head between my knees.
“Too soon?” Jack asked. “I know we’ve just met and all.”
I was incapable of speech, so I didn’t bother to respond to the sarcasm.
“You could be right,” he said. “We’ll take it slow and live together for a while first.”
Jack was out of the car before I could get my thoughts together, and I narrowed my eyes as he left me alone and headed to the door.
“Wait just a minute,” I said, though he couldn’t hear me since I was still sitting in the car like a dummy. I pushed open the door, and then jerked against the seatbelt when I tried to get out without taking it off first. I released myself and then tripped over the curb as I got out. “I said wait a minute.”
Jack turned and raised his brows in question, but I could see the humor he was trying to contain. I wasn’t laughing. This was my life, dammit.
“What was that, J.J.? I couldn’t hear you.”
“Wait just a damned minute,” I said for the third time. “You can’t just go around dropping bombs like that. I haven’t agreed to anything. Just because I slept with you doesn’t mean you get to be in charge of my life.”
I saw the anger flash in his eyes for a brief second before he put it away.
“You can’t tell me after this morning that what we had between us wasn’t a commitment.”
“Since when are you so pro-commitment? What happened to sowing your wild oats?”
“They’ve been sowed. I have a lovely patchwork quilt to show for it.” He moved in closer, and I could see the storm raging behind the black of his eyes. I wasn’t sure if he was holding back because he was afraid I couldn’t handle it or if he just hadn’t reached the breaking point yet. “Sometimes you just know,” he said softly. “There’s no one else for me.”
I tried to swallow, but it felt like something was caught in my throat. Possibly my heart. “I don’t know how I feel about marriage,” I said. “I can’t imagine I’d be any good at it.”
“Marriage is a natural progression when two people love each other. Though you have yet to say the words to my face. You’re not ready to get married? That’s fine. But there’s no reason you can’t move in with me while you’re warming up your cold feet. I’ve waited a long time for you. And I’m tired of being patient. It’s my turn to get what I want for once.”
“How the hell was I supposed to know you were waiting for me?” I asked, the exasperation in my voice obvious.
“You have eyes. Look back over the years and think about it a minute. And I’ve got my pride. I believe things happen in their own time, and this is the time. Now stop being so stubborn.” He kissed me hard once, and then opened the door and went into the store.
I followed behind him, not sure what I should say next, but knowing I had a right to be irritated. The old floors creaked beneath our footsteps, and the inside had that musty smell that came with items of a certain age.
“I’m back in the storeroom,” Vaughn called out. “Meet me in the office. I’ve got some fresh coffee made.”
I passed a beautiful porcelain vase that was so thin and finely crafted I could see my hand through the opposite side. But I walked past it without checking the discrete price tag I knew Vaughn had placed on the underside because all I could think of was receiving it as a wedding gift. My palms went sweaty, and I wiped them on my jeans. I needed coffee.
Jack handed me a mug as soon as I walked into Vaughn’s office, and I scowled at him for being a damned mind reader on top of everything else. Did he have to be so perfect all the time?
“Jesus,” Vaughn said as he came through the door. “It must’ve been amazing sex if you’re already fighting. Dickie owes me fifty dollars.”
“Always glad to help lighten Dickie’s pockets,” Jack said, taking a seat in one of the Queen Anne chairs against the wall.
I decided the best course of action was to sit down and drink my coffee instead of knocking their heads together like I wanted, so I took the chair on the opposite side and decided to ignore them both.
“Have you found out anything new?” Vaughn asked, sitting on the loveseat that faced us. He was dressed in old jeans and a black t-shirt, and there were smudges of dust here and there that came with the territory when moving old pieces of furniture around a storeroom. Hardly anyone ever got to see Vaughn dressed any way but perfection.
“Nothing new. I just wanted to follow up with a couple of questions,” Jack said. “Tell me about any habits Daniel had. His routine.”
Vaughn smiled. “Daniel was definitely one for his routines. He woke up at six every morning, seven days a week, and started the day with a three-mile jog. It didn’t matter if it was raining, sleeting, hailing or snowing. And that road that looped around his house could be treacherous if the weather turned bad. But he had to have his run, or he said he couldn’t function the rest of the day.”
“What about his knee?” I asked.
“He tore a ligament a few years ago, but surgery and rehab fixed him up enough that he could start running again. It would sometimes give him trouble at the end of the day, but he’d ice it down and be back running the next morning.”
“What’d he do after his run?” Jack asked.
