“Make it easier on yourself, dude. Just rip off the bandage,” Wendell had advised.
“I’m saying I don’t have a pressing reason to return to Los Angeles Saturday night. I could stay an extra week or so.” Her champagne eyes sparkled with hope.
Jack heard Wendell’s taunt in his ears: “Your ex-wife even left Trinity Falls, and she’s from here. Audra’s from L.A. What chance do you have of her staying?”
He hardened his heart. “What’s the point? You’ll leave sooner or later.”
The light drained from Audra’s eyes. “Why are you saying these things?”
“It’s the truth.” His muscles screamed with tension. When would this conversation end?
“You’re acting as though you don’t want me here.”
In fact, he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d want her besides Trinity Falls, Harmony Cabins, and his arms. “And you’re acting as though you really think you can stay.”
Audra frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be able to?”
Jack took a deep breath to ease the pain in his chest. “You don’t belong here. You belong in L.A.—with all the other Grammy winners.”
Audra’s caramel skin darkened with a blush. “Did Wendell tell you about the Grammy? Is that why you’re so upset, because I didn’t tell you myself?”
“I already knew about your Grammy. I read the papers.”
Audra gaped. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why didn’t you?”
Audra expelled a breath. Her shoulders rose and fell with it. “What was I supposed to do? Introduce myself as a Grammy-winning songwriter? That would have been a little pretentious, don’t you think? And what about you?”
Jack arched an eyebrow. “What about me?”
“You didn’t introduce yourself in any detail, either. You let me think you were the desk clerk. Your friends were the ones who told me you were the rental cabins’ owner and a descendent of the town’s founder.”
She had a point. Jack inclined his head. “We were both at fault. The bottom line is, it’s time for you to leave.”
Audra’s expression was a study in mutiny. “Why?”
Because if you don’t leave soon, I’m afraid I’ll beg you to stay forever.
He returned to repairing his porch railing. “You always knew this thing between us wouldn’t last.”
After a beat, Jack heard Audra move away. It sounded like she was running. He squeezed his fists to keep the pain at bay. He had to stay where he was. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—run after her. Whether she left next Saturday night or stayed a week or two longer, sooner or later she would leave. For once, Jack didn’t want to be the one left behind. The problem was, it hurt the same, whether he was the one who did the leaving or the one who was left.
Her door was closed this time. Darius stopped in front of Peyton Harris’s office Saturday morning. He glanced at the peace offering he’d brought—a dozen long-stemmed yellow roses wrapped in green tissue paper—then knocked twice on her door. There was no need to be nervous. So why are my palms sweating?
Darius leaned closer to the door, listening for movement on the other side. Muffled footsteps sounded. Darius straightened, stepping back. He was transported to the night he’d picked up his high-school prom date. The door opened cautiously.
“How did you know I’d be here?” Peyton stood framed in the threshold as though using her small body to bar his entrance. She’d dressed in a white T-shirt and navy blue walking shorts.
“One of your neighbors at your apartment complex told me.” Darius cradled the bouquet in his arms. Had she even noticed it? “May I come in?”
Peyton frowned. “Who? I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.”
Darius shrugged. “She said she saw you loading boxes into your car. She thought that meant you were going to work.”
Peyton’s smoky gray eyes darkened with what looked like fear. “Why would she tell you where to find me?”
“Because I asked her.” Darius frowned. Why was she so concerned? She still hadn’t noticed the roses he held. Nor had she invited him in. “Perhaps we could have this conversation in your office.”