“Oh geez, calm the fuck down, Spenser.” She rolled her eyes. “As if I was the type to attract this kind of attention.” Maybe someone like Darcey would get anonymous flowers, she wanted to say aloud but held her tongue. “It doesn’t have my name on it either so obviously there’s been a mistake. Some poor delivery guy fucked up. A very expensive fuck up, too, considering how much roses cost this time of the year.” That was the most logical explanation, but she couldn’t help the disappointment when she realized Cam didn’t sent the flowers. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I …” He swallowed hard. “J.D., I wanted to speak with you.”
“You do, huh?” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her hip on the desk. “What about?” And why did it take you this long to come to me?
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “For getting all caught up and forgetting to call you. I hope … I hope you allow me to explain.”
Part of her wanted to kick him out and yell that it was too late. But who the fuck was she kidding? And how could she turn him away when he looked like that? Like he was really, truly sorry. Even her cat felt his sincerity. It nosed at her, as if urging her to listen to him.
Her eyes flickered over to her father’s framed photo. Pop always said, If a man can swallow his pride to come to you hat in hand, the least you can do is hear him out. “All right then, Spenser. Talk.”
Chapter Eight
When J.D. ran out of his office last Monday, the first thing Cam thought was, This is why I avoid relationships. He was damn terrible at them, and there was no use trying to reason with an unreasonable creature such as a woman. He’d studied creatures more agreeable and less easily agitated, like wolverines and honey badgers.
But, then again, he knew he’d been in the wrong. He should have called her. But he didn’t lie to her, not intentionally.
After his conversation with his grandmother, he couldn’t sleep. This whole thing was such a big, looming cloud that it was the only thing he could think of. He kept analyzing it from every angle, when would be the best time to tell J.D. about him leaving, how to tell her, and anticipate her reactions so he could mitigate them.
It was all too much, and he had gone through some kind of paralysis, unable to move on any action because any decision he made would leave either her, him, or his grandmother unhappy.
Work always helped him relax and clear his head. So, he went straight to HQ. Time passed, he had vague memories of seeing other people, making meals in the communal kitchen, crashing in the dorm, and heading out into the forest to check in on some of the subjects he’d been observing the past few months.
Out there, in his polar bear form, he didn’t have to think about family responsibilities and the thought of making J.D. unhappy, but it also left him exhausted. Really exhausted, to the point of not keeping track of time. He truly thought only a few hours, a day at most, had passed when she came storming into his office.
She had acted so unreasonable that day, going on about her bloody tree and Christmas. He told himself he was happy she left and he didn’t have to deal with her anymore. But his damned polar bear fought him at every turn, wouldn’t let him rest, wanting to see her, to make things right with her. It was only because of sheer exhaustion that he was able to stay away from her. He was surprised he lasted this long, because when he woke up this morning, he found that he just couldn’t let things stay this way.
But now, where to begin? With an apology, he supposed.
“Well?” She tapped her foot impatiently. “I’m waiting.”
Right. He cleared his throat. “J.D., I truly am sorry. I was going to call you, but I got caught up. I really wanted to spend the day with you.”
She sniffed. “Sure didn’t feel like it. Especially when you lied to me.”
“Lied to you? About—” Her warning glare made his clamp his mouth shut. Damn. “You’re right. I mean, I didn’t tell you the whole truth, so it was a lie by omission.”