Читать книгу A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion - Sasha Summers - Страница 8
ОглавлениеHunter didn’t say much on the drive back to the ranch. Fisher, who was never at a loss for words, kept Eli talking all things steers and Future Farmers of America. And Hunter was thankful for it. Spending time with Jo was harder than he’d expected. Leaving her was worse. If he could get her alone, if he could talk to her... What would he say? He was eleven years too late to apologize.
Fisher said good-night and headed to his place, leaving Eli to his homework and Hunter to his paperwork.
“I guess she is kinda pretty.” Eli sounded thoughtful.
“Who?” Hunter looked at his son over his laptop.
“Josie.” Eli gazed at the homework spread out on the table all around him. He tapped his pencil on the table, then added, “I guess I sorta get it. But Mom’s prettier.”
Hunter looked at his son. “Your mom is beautiful, Eli.” Amy had always been pretty—to look at. But her beauty was skin-deep. Underneath was something else entirely.
No point being negative. Chances are she’d be coming through town for the holidays. Sometimes it went well, sometimes it didn’t. But he wanted his son to have a relationship with his mom, no matter how he felt about his ex-wife.
“So are you going to date her?”
Hunter looked at his son again. “What?”
“Are you going to date Josie?” Eli’s bright eyes challenged his father unflinchingly.
“No.” No matter how much he wanted to. “She’ll be heading back after the holidays, anyway.” He kept his voice neutral.
“If she wasn’t leaving, would you?” Eli’s gaze continued to burn into his.
Hunter studied his son for a long time. “Yes,” he answered truthfully. “But I don’t know if she’d want to date me, kid. It’s not that easy, you know?”
“Why?” His son’s eyes narrowed a little.
He hedged. “It’s just not. Women are...complicated.”
Eli sighed and looked back at his homework. “I know.”
Hunter stared at the top of his son’s head. “What does that mean?”
“Woman are complicated.” Eli was bright red when he looked at his father. “I asked Dara if she’d have lunch with us...at the county show.”
Hunter bit back his smile. “Did she say no?”
Eli shook his head, then shrugged. “She didn’t say anything.”
“You should ask her again. You might have surprised her. What did you say?”
“I don’t know.” He paused, thinking. “Something like, ‘Have lunch with me at the next show.’”
Hunter nodded, fighting the urge to laugh.
“She just stood there, staring at me.” Eli looked at his paper.
“Did you ask her or tell her?”
Eli tapped his pencil again. “I think I asked her.”
“Ask her again.”
Eli frowned at his paper, the pencil tapping faster. “It’s no big deal. I gotta get this done.”
“Need help?”
Eli shook his head.
Hunter sat, trying to stare at his computer. His son had his first crush and he didn’t know what to tell him. He thought Dara was a nice enough girl, but they were both so young. And shy. Eli had probably scared the shit out of her, at the very least surprised her. But Hunter knew better than to push. If Eli was done talking about it, then they were done talking about it. Eli had homework and so did he.
He had a good group of fourth-year vet students, partly because he was so hard on them. The semester might be winding down, but clinical rotations weren’t. Not like the patients disappeared because it was winter break. If his students didn’t like it, they could take a look at the long waiting list of eager candidates waiting for any open spot to remind them of how lucky they were to be there, working through the holidays.
He leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up and logged on to the University of East Texas website, then the College of Veterinary Medicine intranet to access his files. He had two classes of finals to grade and his caseload of patient files to review. His fourth-year students were doing most of the patient charting, but he had to check each and every note.
Most were spays and neuters. A couple of dogs with parvovirus. He glanced over their charts. Poor dogs had to be isolated and hooked up to an IV to keep hydrated. It was expensive to cure and messy to treat. All it took was one easy vaccination to prevent the whole thing.
He clicked ahead, skimming the fourth years’ notes. No errors so far. He closed those files, then opened Mars’s file. They were all getting attached to the sweet yellow Labrador. She’d been with them for two weeks now. Her owners had carried her in, bleeding and limp, after she’d been hit by a car. He hoped her paralysis was temporary, but the dog wasn’t improving the way he’d expected. They’d have to perform a cesarean soon. He didn’t have much hope for the three puppies she carried, but he prayed Mars survived. He added a note to schedule the surgery for next week and closed the file.
“Dad,” Eli said. “Did Uncle Fisher get the four-wheelers back?”
“Yes.” He glanced at his son. “But you’re not driving them.”
“Uncle Fisher would let me.” Eli frowned. “And Uncle Archer and Uncle Ryder would let me, too.”
“They might. But they’re not your father.” He nodded. “You’d best not bother them about it too much, or you’ll end up working this weekend.”
Eli smiled. “They wouldn’t make me do that. I’m their favorite nephew.”
“You’re their only nephew.” He chuckled.
“Harsh, Dad.” He laughed, too, then turned back to his homework.
“You’ll always be their favorite.” He worried about teasing his son sometimes.
“I know.” Eli arched an eyebrow, grinning.
Hunter shook his head, but he smiled. God, he loved his boy.
He was lucky—he knew it. He had a job he loved. The research he and his brothers had been doing on the ranch had led to a partnership with the state agricultural agency. Their hard work and dedication had made Boone Ranch one of the biggest conservation and rehabilitation sites in this part of the country. They’d had a plan, a good plan. And once Hunter had a plan, he stayed with it until the end.
Losing Jo hadn’t been part of the plan. And nothing had ever hurt like that.
Jo.
He fisted his hands, wishing he could stop wanting her, needing her. She was here, so close, yet still out of his reach. Seeing her now reminded him of everything he’d had and lost. Thinking about her wouldn’t bring her back, wouldn’t change what he’d done—
“Do you still love her, Dad?” Eli was looking at him.
He hadn’t realized that he wasn’t looking at his computer anymore. His gaze had wandered, and he’d been blindly staring out the window.
“I’m supposed to go to Tommy’s house tomorrow night. Remember?” Eli asked. “Don’t want to leave you alone if it’ll be...weird,” Eli finished.
Fisher had already told them he wouldn’t be coming, but he hadn’t offered up an explanation.
Hunter glanced at his son. “Guess it’s a good thing her dad’s coming for dinner, too.”
“Why?” Eli asked.
“Because when Jo and I are alone, we tend to fight.”
* * *
JOSIE WAS TIRED. And stressed. And tired of being stressed. And now she was getting a headache. Probably because she was heading to dinner with the love of her life and the only person she’d ever hated. Not hated...just actively disliked. That was why she’d made her father and Annabeth promise not to bring up anything to do with Amy. Or Hunter. She didn’t like who she was, how she felt, where Amy was concerned.
“Holy crap,” Josie breathed as she pulled through the huge stone entranceway, the intricate wrought-iron gate open wide. This was nothing like the Boone ranch she remembered. This was something else. She drove slowly, following the twisting limestone drive until she reached three outbuildings.
One was obviously a ranger station. It was elevated, with a two-story ladder the only way up. A small building sat next to it, a long ranch house of sorts with two large trucks parked beside it. Then there was the main building, several stories tall, all wood and native stone and rather impressive.
Almost as impressive as the man sitting on the porch. She sighed. Hunter sat, a laptop on his knees. He looked gorgeous—and a little bit dangerous to what remained of her heart.
She put the car in Park, trying not to stare as he smiled at her. He closed the laptop and walked down the steps to greet her.
The throbbing in her head was matched by the pounding of her heart. Whether it was from nerves or exhaustion, she didn’t know. But watching him walk to her car did little to calm her nerves. It was going to be a long night.
She rolled down the passenger window as he leaned forward to say, “Hi.”
“Hi.” She forced a smile. “Dad bailed at the last minute.” Which had led to a thirty-minute argument. At least Eli would be there as a buffer.
A strange look crossed Hunter’s face and then he smiled. “His hip giving him trouble?”
“Yes.” That’s what her father had told her, though she suspected he was trying to play matchmaker. Why her father was trying to fix her up with a married man was a mystery. After the hell her mother’s indiscretions had put him through, she’d expected him to place a little more value on the whole faithful vow thing. He’d always been on the eccentric side, but this was ridiculous. Hunter was off-limits, no if, ands or buts about it.
“Can you give me a ride?” he asked. “Or we can take some horses.”
“How much farther is the main house?” She let her eyes travel over the buildings again. “And why don’t I recognize any of this?”
His eyes traveled over her face. “Did you think you’d recognize it?”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I figured you’d made some changes, and you obviously have, but...”
“I didn’t own this when we... In high school this wasn’t part of the family ranch. We bought this about six years ago.” He paused.
“That makes sense. So, if I remember correctly, this must be the guest lodge?” She took it all in, impressed. “Am I right?” She waited for him to nod. “Well, wow, congratulations. Looks like your big plans are coming together.”
“Most of them.” He nodded, his eyes boring into hers. “So horses or driving?”
She looked down at her skirt. “Driving. Didn’t know horses were part of the evening.”
He opened the passenger door and climbed in. “Just stay on the drive to the left. It’s a ways down yet.”
She drove on, and her small red four-door rental seemed to shrink as the silence stretched on.
It was too quiet. The pounding in her head seemed to echo. “Too bad you didn’t have paved roads when you taught me to drive. Maybe I wouldn’t have totaled that truck.”
“You didn’t. That thing was like a tank.” He looked at her. “It wasn’t for a lack of trying, though.”
“I guess I should blame my teacher.” She flashed him a grin.
He chuckled. “Sure. If that makes you feel better about wrecking my granddad’s truck, you just go on telling yourself that.”
“God, I felt terrible.” She shook her head. “I still do.”
“Don’t. Still drive it back and forth around here when I need to run errands or deliver something. Imagine I’ll teach Eli to drive in it.” Hunter rested his head against the headrest.
As they crested the next hill, Josie saw the ranch house. It had always been a special place, where her most treasured memories took place. She was hit with a case of nerves so intense she almost turned the car around. Instead, she did what she always did when she was nervous. She talked.
“You’ve made a lot of improvements to the house. I knew you’d never tear it down, since your grandmother was born here.” She paused, but he didn’t say anything. “I guess it’s nice to have some privacy for you and your family. I mean, you haven’t said anything about the way the ranch works now, but I remember the way you said you wanted it to work. Population studies. Rehabilitation center. Animal preserve. Did you ever get the white-tail deer breeding program started?” Her head felt as if it had a band tightening around it. “Guess you’re keeping cattle, too, since Eli is raising a calf?” She stopped as the car pulled up in front of the house. Crippling anxiety gripped her, the throbbing pulse around her skull excruciating.
Any second Amy was going to walk out that front door. Any second Hunter was going to put his arm around Amy, his wife, and they were all going inside to have a meal together. Why had she come? She felt very nauseous.
“You okay?” he asked.
She looked at him, watching the traces of amusement turn into concern. “I’m not sure. I’m feeling a little...off.”
His forehead creased as he stared at her face. “You’re really pale.” His hand touched her cheeks and forehead. His touch felt so good. “But you feel cool. Let’s get you something to drink.”
He climbed out of the car and walked around to her side. He opened the door, but she was paralyzed with fear.
“Maybe I should go home. I feel weird about leaving Dad home alone.” Which was partly true.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “You can leave. Once there’s some color in your cheeks and you don’t look like you’re gonna pass out. Don’t think this car would take a beating the way Granddad’s truck did.”
She glared up at him. She pinched her cheeks, then smiled thinly. “There. Color in my cheeks.”
He laughed. “Don’t make me pick you up, Jo.”
She slipped from the car, grasping the roof for support.
They stood there, regarding each other in the warm rays of the setting sun. No one came out to greet them. Other than the faint coo of a dove, the moo of a distant cow and the slightly rhythmic whump of the windmill’s blades, it was quiet.
“Drink?” he asked. He held out his hand awkwardly.
She stared at it and pushed off her car, not taking it. “I think I can manage to walk to the door, Hunter. I’ll have my drink and hit the road and you can have a peaceful evening with the family.”
“Eli’s out.” He sounded amused. “Fish, Archer and Ryder all have places of their own. But Renata still lives with Dad so she can take care of him. She always was a daddy’s girl.”
Josie felt bile in her throat. He wanted her to sit through dinner with him and Amy? She felt angry suddenly.
“Don’t you think it might be a little awkward?” She turned toward him. “Okay, a lot awkward.”
“Why?” He looked genuinely surprised. “Why would being alone with me be awkward?”
Josie was distracted by the shift of emotions on his face. The tone of his voice was soft but coaxing. He seemed to take a step toward her, rattling her from her silence.
“Alone?” A full-fledged pounding began at the base of her skull. Shooting pain focused right behind her left eye.
He nodded. “Let’s get you inside. You can lie down, have your drink, and once you’re better, you can leave, if that’s what you want to do.”
“I should go now,” she argued. “Pretty sure it’s a migraine and once it gets started—”
“You’ll be down for the count.” He nodded, slipping his arm around her for support. “You’re not driving, Jo. It wouldn’t be right or gentlemanly.”
“You could be a gentleman and drive me home now.” She didn’t have the energy to argue, but she refused to lean into him.
“In a bit.” He swung her up into his arms.
“Hunter—” His name escaped on a startled breath, right before she was bombarded with his scent. Everything about him was familiar. The earthy spice of him, the strength of his arms, the warmth he exuded, the feel of his breath against her forehead. It was sweet torture. “I can walk,” she bit out, sitting rigidly in his arms. She would not relax. She would not melt in his arms and press herself to him. She would not kiss his neck or run her hands through his thick, dark blond hair. She would not think of doing those things, either.
He carried her into the house, ratcheting up her nerves. This was how she was going to see Amy? In his arms? Her whisper was urgent. “Please put me down.”
And he did. On the couch. “Sit,” he murmured before leaving the room.
“Bark bark,” she muttered childishly. Her gaze bounced around the room, searching, waiting.
He laughed. “You still do that?”
“You still order people around?” she snapped.
He left and then walked back with a glass of water and a bottle of pain pills. He sat on the coffee table opposite the couch, offering them to her.
She stared at him, deciding whether to take the offered answer to her pain or suffer through out of sheer stubbornness. She took the bottle and the water.
“Still get migraines?” he asked.
She shrugged, pouring a couple of pain relievers into her hand before putting the lid back on the bottle. “Sometimes.” She glanced at him. “Still have sneezing fits?”
“Sometimes.” He smiled. “Still painting? I mean, other than your illustrations.”
“Yes.” It was ironic that, even though she’d been desperate to leave the state of Texas and everything about it, Texas landscapes were one of her favorite things to paint. “Still write poetry?”
“No.” He stared down at her. “You wanna lie down? Eli’s room is a mess, but you can rest in mine if you want.”
Rest in his room? Amy’s room?
She shook her head. “No, thank you. If I lie here for a minute, will you let me leave?”
He stood over her, still smiling. “I’m not kidnapping you, Jo. You can go whenever you want to go. As long as you can make it all the way back into town with no problems.”
She sat up and felt instantly nauseous.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Stop being so stubborn and lie down.”
“I’m stubborn?” she snapped as she lay back on the cushions of the couch.
“Relax for a few. Dinner’s almost ready.” He winked at her. “The protein’ll do you some good.”
She pulled her gaze from him, shaking her head. “Where is everyone again?” Being alone with him wasn’t good for her. She didn’t like feeling so vulnerable, so needy. As a matter a fact, she was feeling way too much right now. Even with her pounding head, she was preoccupied with thoughts of being wrapped in his arms.
“Eli’s spending the night with a friend. My brothers have their own places. They’re probably off doing what grown men do.” Hunter shrugged.
“That sounds...dangerous,” she muttered, waiting for the rest. But Hunter didn’t say a thing about Amy. She narrowed her eyes. He was going to make her ask, wasn’t he? She started to, but couldn’t. It had taken her a long time not to wince just thinking Amy’s name. She sure as hell wasn’t going to say it, out loud, here.
She’d turn up sooner or later—she always did.
“No interruptions. You rest. I’ll work. You can eat later and I’ll drive you home.”
She continued to glare at him, even as she lay back on the couch cushions. Her head was pounding, making her ears ring. She closed her eyes, trying to relax. But she couldn’t.
She was alone with Hunter. Just the two of them. She opened her eyes, looking for him.
The place had changed, but it still felt the same. The inside had obviously been gutted and redone. The walls were painted a warm cream with knotty wood trim. The ceiling was dark, with heavy exposed beams. The cast-iron wagon-wheel chandelier was the same. So was the wood-burning stove in the far corner.
But the room felt bigger—was bigger. The dining room was now part of this room—separated by a long brown leather sofa. On the far wall, beneath a huge picture window, was Hunter’s old-fashioned drafting table. Her mouth went dry at the memories that table stirred up.
They’d spent most of that morning bringing in the round hay bales in the tractor. Once they’d been left alone, she’d dragged him inside with obvious intentions. Her lips had fastened on his neck, tasting the salt of his sweat. When her lips suckled and nipped at his earlobe, he’d tugged her jeans off, tossing them hurriedly over his shoulder before grasping her hips and setting her onto the table. With his jeans around his ankles, he’d loved her hard and fast. How could she remember the feel of him, as though he was with her now?
They’d been young, too young... But they’d loved each other, really loved each other. And then life—Amy—had gotten in the way.
She swallowed. Her head was spinning. She needed to get the hell out of here. She needed to put as much space between them as possible. The only way to do that was to get rid of her headache.
She took a slow, steady breath and forced herself to relax against the pillows.
* * *
HUNTER SET THE TABLE as quietly as he could.
She’d been asleep for almost an hour. But he knew the longer she slept, the better she’d feel.
He moved to the couch and stared down at her.
The years hadn’t touched her. She’d never been a fan of makeup, so her skin was still smooth and silky. She had some faint lines bracketing her mouth and eyes, where she crinkled when she laughed. And when she laughed, she looked so damn beautiful.
He ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. If he could go back in time, follow her, he would.
No, he wouldn’t. Because then he wouldn’t have Eli. And as much as he regretted losing Jo, he loved his son.
Jo stirred, her movements capturing his attention. Her mouth parted, then smiled slightly as she turned onto her side. There was a flutter of movement under her eyelids, and she sighed.
He spread the blanket from the back of the couch over her before heading into the kitchen. He turned down the stove and put the salad back in the refrigerator. Dinner would keep—she needed sleep.
Once he’d turned off all the lights, he went to his desk and opened his laptop. He glanced at her, then at the desk. He’d had to patch the lid after Amy had ripped it off at the hinges. She couldn’t stand the H.B. + J.S. that he’d carved into the wood. Even though he’d been the one to replace the lid, he still looked for the carving whenever he opened the desk for supplies.
Did Jo have someone special? As much as he wanted her, he wanted her happiness more. He wondered if she’d made any other men as happy as she’d made him. She probably had. Eleven years was a long time to go without. And Jo was a passionate woman. He remembered that about her with great fondness.
Everything about her was like a living, breathing fire. From her sparkling eyes and lightning-fast humor to her equally fast temper and her instant and all-consuming desire. She’d been every young man’s dream.
His gaze wandered back to her. She was still his dream.
A distant rumbling made him glance out the window. The sky was flashing. They needed the rain. There was a burn ban in effect and two fires had already claimed thousands of acres on surrounding properties. All it took was one asshole throwing his still burning cigarette butt out the window and, poof, a whole season’s worth of work was up in smoke.
Maybe he should wake her. If it rained too hard too fast, the road would wash out and he wouldn’t be able to get her back home. Not home, to Carl’s, he reminded himself. She didn’t live here anymore and Texas had never been her idea of home. He’d thought he might be able to change that once, but he knew he didn’t have that kind of clout now.
He forced himself to work, reading over his students’ notes on the dog they had in clinic at the moment. Vitals were good. The leg was healing. He flipped the page back, skimming the latest X-rays of the fracture. If they kept on track, they’d be able to send him home before Christmas, which meant Hunter might be patient-free for the holidays.
The windowpane rattled as thunder hit—closer now. A blinding flash of lightning flooded the room with white light.
“Hunter?” Jo’s voice was soft.
“It’s just a storm. Go back to sleep, Jo.” He kept his voice low, watching her.
She rolled over, burrowing into the blanket. But the next clap of thunder had her on her feet. He saw her grab her head, leaning against the edge of the sofa.
“Still hurting?” He’d do just about anything to make her feel better. “Want me to take you home?”
She nodded, but then the sky seemed to open up. Sheets of rain dumped onto the tin roof, followed by a show of flashing lightning and roaring thunder. She looked out the window and shook her head.
He smiled. “Still afraid of storms? And you live in Washington?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.” She tried to give him a look, one that showed him how capable and tough she was. But the thunder sent her from the couch to his side. “It doesn’t storm like this there. It just rains...a lot.”
He hesitated only briefly before slipping one hand around her waist. His heart picked up and he waited, but she was too focused on what was happening outside to notice his touch. She was warm—he could feel that through the thin fabric of her shirt. He tugged, pulling her into his lap gently, hungrily. When she sat, her body pressed against him, he couldn’t stop the tremor that racked his body.
“I forgot how violent storms get here,” she whispered.
He couldn’t answer. She was in his arms, in his lap. She felt just the same, warm and soft in all the right places. He stared at her face, rediscovering the shape of her. He used to hold her like this for hours. Sitting, talking, kissing and being happy. How could so much time have passed? She hadn’t changed, and neither had his feelings.
“Is it... Are we safe?” she asked, glancing at him. And then she realized she was in his lap, his arms were around her. Her eyes went round. Surprised. Startled. Pleased? He couldn’t tell.
He swallowed. “Inside we’re safe. We should probably try to wait it out, though, instead of taking you back.”
She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. He expected her to tense, to pull away from him. But she seemed just as wrapped up in him as he was in her. Her breath hitched, her gaze falling to his lips. He knew an invitation when he saw one.
He bent his head, moving close, slowly. She watched him, her breathing picking up. Did she know how she affected him? He didn’t want to push her, to lose her. Everything he wanted was right here, in his arms.
And then she pulled away. “We can’t do this, Hunter.” Her voice was husky and not at all convincing.
“Sure we can.”
“No, we can’t.” She pushed halfheartedly against his chest. But her fingers gripped his shirt.
He knew his need for her was there, on display, but he didn’t care. He wanted her, he’d never stopped. To him, she was still his. “Why?” he asked.
Something about that question pushed Jo over the edge. She was out of his lap in no time, staring down at him with blazing eyes and an angry twist to her mouth. “Why?”
He looked up at her, confused. “You want me. At least, I think you do. And I know I want you.”
She froze, her hands fisting at her sides. “You do?”
“Hell, yes.” He stood as he spoke, his hands resting on her shoulders.
She shook her head, but she was staring at his mouth. “No. Hunter.” He saw her indecision, her frustration. “What we want has nothing to do with what’s right.”
He heard “what we want” and pulled her against him. His hands cupped her face, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. He felt her shudder, saw her lips part, before she stiffened. Why was she fighting? He’d missed this, the feel of her in his arms, the wholeness he felt deep in his bones. How could he tell her, make her understand? His throat tightened as he stared at her, willing her to know what was in his heart.
Her chin quivered. “Hunter,” she whispered, her voice hitching. “I can’t do this to Eli. To Amy.”
Hunter’s chest grew cold. “Amy?”
She winced when he said the name. “Yes, A-Amy.” She pushed away from him, wrapping her arms around her waist.
He didn’t know what to say to that. He’d hoped that there might be some way for them to come to terms with what had happened, what he’d done. He’d never expected her to take him back, but he’d hoped she’d forgive him. She was here, but somehow Amy was still between them.
His phone rang, but neither of them moved. It could wait. “Jo—”
It rang again.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” she murmured, her eyes cold.
“I’d rather talk to you.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” She shook her head, her anger building. “Nothing. I shouldn’t be here. This—” she pointed frantically back and forth between the two of them “—is wrong.”
Her words hurt. “Wrong?” He swallowed. “How can you—”
“How can I? You promised me, remember? I’m not going to let you break my heart again, Hunter. Do us both a favor and leave me the hell alone.” She grabbed the phone. “Hold on,” she said into the phone before tossing it to him.
He caught it, Fisher’s voice reaching him. “Hunter? Hunter?”
“Yes?” he spoke into the phone, keeping his gaze locked with Jo.
“Fence is down in the far pens.” Fisher laughed. “You’re going to have to get Jo back into bed later on.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him. She looked so damn vulnerable, wounded somehow. But then she picked up her purse and headed to the door.
He stepped forward, blocking her path, fear rising. “Jo, hold on—”
Jo shook her head, pushing around him. “I don’t want to hold on, Hunter. I don’t want this. I don’t want you. Not anymore.” She ran out into the rain and climbed into her car.
“Hunter?” Fisher sounded stunned. “You there? You okay? Shit, I’m sorry—”
He cleared his throat, swallowing the lump to say, “On my way.” He watched her car back up, then turn around, disappearing into the driving rain and darkness.
