Читать книгу The Redemption Of Lillie Rourke - Loree Lough - Страница 14

CHAPTER FOUR

“I WISH YOU didn’t have to go.” Whitney leaned her head on his shoulder. “I was so looking forward to introducing you to the new partner.”

Jase grabbed a handful of popcorn and stared at the preview on the movie screen. “He’ll be with the firm for years. I’m sure we’ll get together some other time.”

She snuggled closer. “Are you sure you can’t get out of it? Just this once?”

“I think I know why your parents spoiled you.”

“I’m not spoiled.”

Said the girl who drove a Mercedes at sixteen. Attended Vanderbilt, despite so-so grades. Owned a town house in an upscale neighborhood—a graduation gift from her folks.

“You’re right. Sorry,” Jase said, meaning it. Since signing on with the law firm, Whitney had earned everything she called hers.

“Because I’d hate to think you feel that way about me.”

Even pouting, Jase thought, she was a knockout. Not as pretty as Lillie, but gorgeous nonetheless.

“Sorry,” he said again. Not because he’d almost called her a nag, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about Lillie, or comparing her to Whitney. It wasn’t fair to either woman.

Jase needed space, and time to clear his head. Standing in the aisle beside his seat, he leaned in to say, “How about some candy? I’m in the mood for Milk Duds.”

“The lines will be long, Jason. I hate to ask you to put yourself through that.”

“You aren’t asking. I offered, remember? So what’ll it be? Peanut butter cups? Chocolate-covered raisins?”

“How about a salted pretzel?”

Jase winked and made the thumbs-up sign. “Consider it done.”

Whitney had been right; the lines were twenty deep at every cash register. Most nights, he would have walked right back into the theater. Tonight, he considered it therapy. He had to figure out exactly how he felt about Lillie. He knew he still loved her. He’d probably always love her. Enough to set aside his suspicion? Therein, as the bard might have said, lies the rub.

A family of four left the counter, and Jase moved forward a few spaces.

A new thought occurred to him. What if part of her therapy was to make amends and repayments...and then sever ties with everyone who’d been a part of her life as an addict?

The kid at the counter said, “Can I help you, sir?” And from the look on his face—and the faces of the people to his right and left—Jase realized the boy had said it more than once.

“Salted pretzel, please. And some of those.” He pointed, and the cashier grabbed a yellow box. “Two waters, too.”

He paid for his order and somehow managed to make it back to the theater without dropping anything. Halfway between the entrance and their seats, Jase wondered if Whitney liked mustard on her pretzel. If she does, his Lillie-addled brain answered, she’ll have to eat this one plain.

By the time he reached her, the movie’s opening credits filled the screen. Fortunately, this was a screening of a classic movie he’d seen before, so if Whitney wanted to talk about it during the ride to her place, he wouldn’t sound like a complete idiot.

Even though you are a complete idiot.

The whole what-if question echoed in his head, even as the story unfolded, even as he took Whitney’s elbow and led her across the parking lot, even as he helped her into the cab of his pickup. It would solve all of his problems if Lillie’s counselors had told her to leave him in the dust.

Right?

“You’re awfully quiet,” Whitney said. “Thinking about your trip to Florida?”

Jase nodded as he backed out of the parking space.

“Have you packed?”

“Not yet.”

“You’ll get it done in no time. As many times as you’ve made this trip, I’ll bet you can prepare for it in your sleep. Besides, you’ll only be gone for a few days.”

“I guess.” Maybe he needed to have a talk with Lillie, face-to-face, find out where she stood on the subject of them.

“You’re not angry with me are you, for making you take me out tonight, when you could have been home, getting things ready?”

“No, Whitney. I’m not angry. And you didn’t make me take you out tonight. I’m here willingly.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” Why couldn’t she be a little more like Lillie, comfortable with companionable silences?

Whitney fiddled with the radio, stopping when a rap song filled the cab. If it had been Lillie sitting over there, he’d be listening to country right now. Oldies but goodies. Jazz or blues. Anything but rap. Again, a familiar annoyance simmered in his gut. He wasn’t irritated with Whitney or Lillie. He was mad at himself for behaving like a spineless goofball, incapable of making up his mind or controlling his emotions.

Reaching across the console, he grasped Whitney’s hand. “I know I wasn’t the best company tonight, and when I get back, you can arrange dinner with the new partner and his wife. Someplace nice. My treat.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “Sound good?”

She returned the squeeze. “I can’t very well turn down a deal like that, can I?” Grinning, she added, “Not without sounding spoiled, anyway.”

“Very funny,” he said, winking again.

It wasn’t in her wheelhouse to crack jokes, and he appreciated her effort to lighten the mood.

“Did the show send your schedule?”

The producers from the shopping network had always made sure he knew well in advance what time he’d be on-air. And Whitney was aware of this, too.

“Yup.”

“When you get a minute, will you take a screenshot of it, so I’ll know when it’s okay to call? I’d hate to interrupt you while you’re in the middle of describing one of your mom’s crafts.”

During his trip a few weeks earlier, she’d called and texted a dozen times a day. Called at night, too. And once, his cell phone had buzzed while he was on-air during the Father’s Day specials—loudly enough that the mic picked it up. His own fault. He should have left it in the dressing room.

“’Course.”

“You’ll call every day?”

“Sure.”

An odd thought popped into his head. She hadn’t been clingy or possessive before meeting Lillie. She’d even started referring to his past as “the Lillie years.” He’d assure her that things had ended between him and Lillie a long time ago...except, he wasn’t sure that was the truth. Or that he wanted it to be the truth.

“Good. Because I’ll miss you.”

“Me, too.”

“I don’t know why, but it always seems you’re gone for weeks, instead of a few days.”

Always? He’d gone to Florida only two other times since they’d met. But he’d been quiet and standoffish all night. What could it hurt to say something nice?

“Since you’re like a human World Clock, maybe you can be my wake-up call every morning.”

“Give me a minute to collect myself,” she said. “I don’t want to appear overeager. What would my fellow feminists say if they heard me gushing like a schoolgirl at the chance to rouse her boyfriend while he’s on a business trip?”

Boyfriend. Jase didn’t know how he felt about that.

“Fellow feminists,” he said. “Is that an oxymoron?”

She laughed. His mother may just have been right when she’d said that Whitney could be good for him...if he’d let her.

Jase nodded and smiled, smiled and nodded as she talked about the movie’s plot, the weather, the legal brief she needed to finesse for a pretrial hearing in the morning.

“Are you sure you can’t come in?” she asked, leaning into him.

“I’m sure. I need to get home, throw a few things in a bag. Besides, you have that brief to work on.”

Hands on his shoulders, Whitney kissed him, slowly, longingly. He waited for the weak-in-the-knees, heart-pounding reaction his mother had described. When it didn’t happen, Jase blamed himself. Maybe if he put a little more into it...

Still nothing.

“Drive safely,” she said when it ended, “and pack some immune boosters. You don’t want to catch a cold, breathing that recirculated air on the plane. Not a good idea to drink coffee or tea, or let the flight attendant put ice in your drink. I read an article that said there are swarms of bacteria in the water system and the ice maker.”

Jase chuckled quietly. “Swarms, huh?”