Kaleidoscope (24 page)

I didn’t know what he was driving at so I took a wild guess. “I… do you think I’m a puzzle, Rich?”

“I think there’s a reason my boy’s in deep. I think that’s because you’re complicated. That doesn’t mean he won’t be happy when he finds the solution. I’m just hopin’ whatever it is can be solved.”

I shook my head. “I’m not a puzzle.”

“Three girls I met today, Emme. One didn’t care enough to remember to meet her man’s parents. One was stiff and nervous. One was soft and sweet. That’s all I know. I don’t know about a puzzle. I just know that’s complicated.”

I didn’t want to go over that day,
again.
I also didn’t want to remind him he had a part in it going bad.

So instead, I warned him carefully, “I’m not sure this discussion will give me sweet dreams.”

At that he leaned in so suddenly it stunned me.

“Be that girl,” he whispered fiercely. “Be that girl who just gave my boy sweet. Please be that girl, Emme.”

Startled, I whispered back, “I
am
that girl, Rich.”

“Deck, that other woman, he was in so damned deep. Like his dad, he finds what he wants, he gives it his all. She wasn’t worth it. Be the girl that makes it worth it.”

It wasn’t his business just as it was, unfortunately, and we were suddenly having an intense conversation about important things, also unfortunately, so I shared, “I’m in love with him.”

“So was the other one,” he replied.

My hand tensed on the door. His comment beyond annoying and not a little out of line, I was unable to think of what to say.

Then I thought of what to say. “I’m not Elsbeth. Not even a little bit.”

He leaned back, I heard him pull in a deep breath and his voice was less severe when he stated, “I’m his father. I’m going to want the best for him.”

“And I’m the woman who loves him. I’m obviously going to want the same. But, no offense, what I don’t want is his dad intimating that is not me. I understand you love him and want to protect him. But I made a mistake. It annoyed Jacob. It upset you. You were both entitled to those reactions because it was a big mistake. But now it’s over. Can I ask that tomorrow, when we wake up, we start over?”

He studied me through the dark a long moment before he agreed, “I can do that, Emme.”

“I’d be grateful, Rich.”

“Now, just to say, I just came on strong and Deck’s right, I’m nosy, especially when what I’m nosin’ around matters. But we just made a deal. I don’t go back on what I say, so even though we had these words, tomorrow, as I said, we’re startin’ over. So I want you to sleep easy.”

Like that would happen.

“Buford’s good at keeping me company,” I assured him on a fib. He was, just not when he was sleeping. “I’ll be fine. But thank you for saying that anyway.”

He held my eyes, nodded and murmured, “ ’Night, darlin’. Tomorrow will be a better day.”

“Thanks, Rich, I’m sure it will. And good night.”

He hesitated before he moved away.

I shut the door and moved to the bed.

As I settled in bed, Buford woke up long enough to roll to his other side, stretch out and start snoring again.

Back to the door, eyes open, I went over the day. And again. And repeat.

It made me all kinds of uneasy.

There were obvious reasons why.

And there were some that were not obvious.

Therefore, I stayed awake for a long time, turning it over in my head, trying to relieve the unease.

But I fell asleep before I could.

Luckily, I did it before Jacob joined me.

One week later…

I sat in the salon chair, hair in foils, celebrity gossip magazine forgotten in my hand, eyes on my face in the mirror.

This is a game changer, Emme.

Jacob’s words from last night assaulted my brain and I closed my eyes.

A game changer, Emme.

I opened my eyes and jumped when I felt a light touch on my shoulder.

I tipped my head back and looked at Dominic, stylist to practically anyone who lived in the county who had the money and good taste to go to him. He owned Carnal Spa. It wasn’t too far from Gnaw Bone but even if it was five hours, every six weeks I’d make the trip in order to have him give me a cut and highlight. He was that good.

“You okay, girlie?” he asked, his gaze moving over my face.

“Fine, Dom,” I assured on a complete and utter lie. “Just have a lot to do this weekend and prioritizing it in my head.” This was another lie.

Dom knew it, I could tell. But Dominic was a gay man who spent his days around women and their problems, so with one look at my face he knew better than to push it.

He smiled, lifted his hands to my hair, checked a foil and murmured, “Five more minutes, darling.”

Then he wandered away.

I looked to the back of the spa where Dom had a couple of rooms where they did massages and facials and stuff. I knew Lexie was back there with a client. I’d seen her earlier. She’d also seen me. We’d gabbed for a bit between her clients then she’d disappeared.

I wished she’d had a free half hour. At a time like this, a girl needed a member of her girl posse. I’d never had that kind of time and I still knew this was that kind of time.

Definitely.

A game changer, Emme.

As his words filled my head, his face filled my vision. Surprise there, also disappointment, wariness and maybe even pain.

I never wanted to give Jacob pain.

I looked back to myself in the mirror, my hair out to there with silver sticking out all over. I looked ridiculous. But I knew it was worth it because the results would be astounding.

Why, when for years I didn’t give a crap about my hair, did I care about the results being astounding?

What was going on with me?

Having pushed it down all night and all morning, suddenly unable to fight it, I let it wash over me.

The last week had been good. Jacob and I had our messy discussion and got back on track.

It started on Sunday with his dad proving what he promised. To him, a deal was a deal. He did not act like an ass. He was friendly. He was funny. It was awesome.

However, Jacob was right, his pancakes sucked.

That said, things had turned so far to the light side, at Rich’s request, when I hesitantly shared this honest opinion, Rich laughed out loud for a long time.

Things got even better when we went to my house.

Karla wandered around with us during my tour trying to hide looking slightly aghast. Her wide eyes, hand lingering at her throat and hesitancy to touch anything meant she failed spectacularly at hiding it.

Rich had the exact opposite reaction. He loved my house and didn’t mind sharing. The tour, which usually took a while seeing as it was a big house, took three times as long because he was interested in everything I’d done, was doing and intended to do. He gave suggestions. He gave instructions. And as a retired electrician, he inspected the wiring I’d had laid and gave it his stamp of approval.

Better, by the end of the tour, I knew that stamp extended to me. Rich was a little surprised I’d taken on that kind of a project and it being so big, but it was clear he thought it was admirable.

And with me more relaxed and not stiff around them or Jacob, our natural affection with each other was something else Rich liked.

And he showed it.

So that was all good and a huge relief. The day was great. Jacob was right, both his parents were cool and the rest of the visit went well. I’d had to leave them to work on Monday and Tuesday but we’d had dinner together, I’d spent the night each night at Jacob’s and we’d had a fantastic time.

They’d left on Wednesday, and Jacob and I settled back into the good that had been us before I went wonky. I called him whenever. I picked up immediately when he phoned. And when I did, I couldn’t believe I stopped doing it. I liked connecting with him, even if it was just to discuss whether we’d go out for a meal or if we’d make something at one of our houses.

And there were no more coming home later and laters.

It didn’t escape me after Jacob pointed it out that I was creating busy work to keep me from him.

This concerned me, and the only reason I could come up with as to why I would do that was because I’d never met a boyfriend’s parents much less the parents of the man I loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I’d obviously been denying my anxiety of their impending visit and doing stupid stuff because of it.

Whatever it was, it was gone. It was back to good.

No. As with everything with Jacob, it was back to beauty.

Until last night.

A game changer, Emme.

I jumped again when Dom came back and put his hand on the back of my chair.

He smiled at me in the mirror and stated, “Time to wash you out.”

I smiled back, we chatted on the way to the sinks and we kept chatting until Dom started the head massage he always gave when he was letting the conditioner do its work.

Usually, this reduced me to jelly. Dom had strong hands. I’d only had one other head massage in my life—the one given to me by the stylist in Denver Erika took me to to give me my new look. But Dom’s were
way
better.

But that time, when I closed my eyes and tried to relax, it rushed me.

You don’t want kids?

No, honey.

Seriously?

Hesitation.
Seriously.

Then that look. That look on his face, so close, us naked, Jacob lying on top of me.

That look of shock.

Disappointment.

Pain.

That look that shattered me because I knew what I’d said had shattered him.

We’d just made love. We were snuggling, touching, whispering, planning. Planning our lives and how they would come in the now. How neither Jacob nor I were happy he had to go to Denver for work and would be gone for the weekend, not back until Tuesday, which meant we’d be separated for the first time since we got together. How, after Jacob sorted this case that was troubling him, we were going to plan a vacation to somewhere exciting. Paris. London. Prague.

Then we moved on to planning our lives how they would come in the later.

And that was when Jacob asked me how many kids I wanted.

And my response was unexpected.

And unwelcome.

Not even one?

Honey.

I felt my eyes sting as Dom rinsed the conditioner out of my hair.

This is a game changer, Emme.

Dom wrapped my hair in a towel and announced, “You’re done, darling. Sit up. Let’s get you back to my station and unleash that beauty.”

I looked over my shoulder at him, smiled and chatted as we walked to his station.

It wasn’t until he was blow drying my hair and we couldn’t chitchat anymore before it came back to me.

That morning.

I saw Jacob standing in front of me. He’d pressed me into the side of my Bronco in his garage.

I was going to Dom’s. He was heading to Denver.

He kissed me, hard, long, amazing but also there was a hint of something else.

Longing.

Bleakness and longing.

It hurt.

Yes, a kiss hurt. But I felt it and when he lifted his head, I knew he felt it too.

“I’ll call,” he whispered, his hand at my neck, his thumb stroking my jaw. “But we’ll talk when I get home.”

I knew my eyes were wet because the vision of him was swimming as I said, “Okay, honey.”

“We’ll figure it out, Emme,” he promised.

I wanted to believe him. I really, really wanted to believe him.

But I didn’t believe him.

“Love you, Jacob,” I whispered and he smiled.

That was bleak too.

“Love you too, Emme.”

He gave me another kiss then waited until I climbed into Persephone so he could swing my door shut for me. I smiled at him through the windshield, another fake one, as he thumped his hand palm flat on my hood and moved away from the truck.

I pulled out of his garage and did it with my eyes glued to him. He stood in his garage, tall, strong, pure male beauty, arms crossed on his chest, long, long legs planted.

Mine.

All mine.

Not even one?

Honey.

Just one, Emme.

I’ve never wanted kids, Jacob. That might be weird but it’s true. I just… that’s just not me. It’s never been me.

Long, painful pause then,
This is a game changer, Emme.

“Voilà!”

I focused on myself in the mirror and forced yet another fucking smile.

“As usual, Dom, you’ve created a masterpiece,” I told him.

“For every artiste, to do such a thing, he must have the best material at his disposal,” he told me.

Dominic. He was such a cool guy. And right then he was cool because his compliment was genuine and his eyes were kind but concerned. The former made me smile sincerely. The latter just felt nice because he cared.

I paid and tipped huge.

Before I left, I gave Dom a hug at the same time I got a message whispered in my ear, “You ever need to talk, the line between stylist and client is a vague one, darling. Just call the salon and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

He totally knew I wasn’t all right.

“Thanks, Dom,” I whispered back, knowing I’d never, not in a million years, do that.

And wondering again what was wrong with me that I wouldn’t.

He gave me a squeeze.

I gave him a smile as I left and got in Persephone.

Game changer, Emme.

I shut my eyes tight. Then I forced them open and looked to my purse. My phone was in my purse. Jacob would be in Denver by now. So if I called he wouldn’t be talking while driving.

I reached to the phone but stopped.

The truth was, I didn’t want kids.

I wanted a puppy.

I also, later, wanted a cat.

I wanted my house to be fixed up and I didn’t mind the fact that once it was, I’d be rambling around in it all alone. There’d always be a change of scenery. There’d always be something to do in the garden or somewhere on the property.

I’d never thought on it much, not before I was sick and truly, not even after. But when I did, I knew I wanted a man. A partner. Someone to share my time with. But only because it hit me unexpectedly just how alone I was.

But I’d never thought about kids.

I didn’t lie to Jacob. That just wasn’t me. I was thirty-four years old, had done my own thing and been responsible only to me for a very long time. Fitting a man in my life worked, that man being Jacob, it worked spectacularly. We were good together. We slid into that easily.

You didn’t fit a kid in your life.

A kid became your life.

And kids, plural, consumed it.

But Jacob wanted kids.

And that was just not me.

My eyes again stinging, I lifted my head and looked down the Main Street of Carnal. I’d spent time there more than once since moving to the mountains. They had an awesome coffee shop called La-La Land that not only had great coffees but amazing cakes and treats. They had a cute gift shop with great pottery.

And they had Bubba’s bar.

And Bubba’s was owned by Krystal Briggs and Tate Jackson. So, by extension, it was also owned by Lauren Jackson.

Two members of my girl posse.

Outside of Faye, who I talked to and visited with regularly now that Jacob’s namesake had entered this world and Jacob seemed intent on being little Jake’s first living memory, I had not spent much time with my new girl posse.

I had fielded calls. I’d even made calls. On a lunch hour, I’d popped in for a gab with Zara and to do so shopping at Karma. Jacob and I had run into Max and Nina at The Mark when we went there for dinner and we’d stood at their table and shot the breeze for ten full minutes. And I’d run into Lexie and Ty when they were visiting Chace and Faye after the baby was born at a time when Jacob and I showed to do the same.

All of this was welcome, to me and to them.

But I had not connected in any real way. With the phone calls, the invitation was there.

I just didn’t take them up on it. Too busy.

Always too busy.

What does that say, Emme?

The question hit my brain like a shot and I just as quickly ignored it.

But even ignoring it, I threw open my door, hopped down from Persephone and hoofed it down Main Street.

Destination: Bubba’s.

I walked in and saw that both Krystal and Lauren were there. So was Bubba.

Bubba was at one end of the bar, shooting the shit with a couple of patrons. Lauren was at the other end, talking to an old guy wearing a baseball cap. Krystal was in the middle.

All their eyes came to me.

With smiles and waves to Lauren and Bubba, I made my way to Krystal.

I hiked my ass up on a stool and looked at her. “Hey.”

She looked at me.

Then she declared, “Houston, we have a problem.”

Fantastic.

“Is it that easy to read?” I asked.

“Babe, you look like you just stepped into the street and noticed, too late, a Mack truck heading your way.”

Yes, it was that easy to read because that was precisely how I felt.

“I…” I hesitated then shared, “Have an issue.”

“No shit?” she asked.

In what seemed to be pure Krystal style, that didn’t sound like it welcomed heartfelt sharing at the same time it demanded it.

I wondered how she did that but didn’t ask. There were other things more pressing on my mind.

I looked to the taps beside her then back to her. “Can I have a beer?”

“No.”