like marinara now. She paused, staring curiously across the room, and pointed.
“That’s an internet modem.”
“Yes. Right next to it is a window, and it sits on a table, and—”
“No, that’s a working modem.”
I whistled. “Nothing escapes you, does it, sharpshooter?” I said, reaching for a plate in the kitchen.
Her gaze tapered, nonplussed by my poor attempts to turn this into something humorous, when, in fact, it might be creepy.
“Does it work?” she asked, hands on her hips.
I tossed a cheap plastic plate onto the counter next to her. “You can thank it for the late-night text marathons.”
“How long have you had it?” she cried.
“Almost two weeks.”
“But you’ve been coming to the shop for all that time.”
“I still wanted my Pineville office.” I pretended to take offense. “Where else could I possibly find such spacious accommodations?”
“Your closet is more like it,” she said with wry humor. The glint in her eye told me she wasn’t angry. “You’ve been paying me to use my tiny little office that even a mouse would feel claustrophobic in when you could have more conveniently worked from this gorgeous house?”
“That isn’t what I was paying for,” I said quietly.
She looked away, gaze distant. My stomach knotted. I had to force down hot acid in the back of my throat. She’s in a good place, I reminded myself, and I’m no hero. I’m here to help her find success, and then I’m out. No expectations. She’s known that.
Her parents had left her with a real mess, and I couldn’t save her from it. But I could help her see what real success looked like, and she was well on her way now. Best to bow out before expectations bred deeper disappointments.
Because in my world, they always did. And those disappointments led to much scarier things than a broken heart. Bethany deserved better.
Desperate to head back to the safety of our banter, I gave her a quick wink.
“C’mon. I’m starving, and I have a chocolate pie that needs to get in my belly once we’re done with this. Let’s take this onto the porch.”
29
Bethany
I wanted to kill him.
He kisses me like that, then shows me that bookshelf? The house? Tells me that he’s going to leave in a week?
Total. Jerk.
My rage was short lived, and futile. I’d brought this on myself, and blaming him wouldn’t do any good. I’d willingly checked into Heartbreak Hotel, and now I had to live with it. Sooner than I’d expected, unfortunately. My heart felt like he’d taken a cheese grater to it.
This is the beginning of the end.
All I really wanted was more of Maverick. All of Maverick. My wasted expectations were futile. Maverick would give whatever he would give, then run.
The cycle was established. Running away to the Army. Running from Mallory. Now, he would run from me. Or was it even fair to say that? We had . . . what? Not a relationship. Shared affection, perhaps, but no commitment.
“So,” I said through the uncomfortable, vise-like feeling around my neck. Based on his wary expression, my forced casualness didn’t fool him, either. “What’s next for you?”
He nodded and sipped at a beer he’d grabbed from the fridge. Sunlight filtered through the trees near the back porch, overlooking the mountain ridge that fell into more mountains. This house had to be worth at least half a million dollars.
“I’m looking at some places in South Dakota,” he said slowly, hedging. “I think just another week will do it.”
“And you have internet. The operations manual is done, and I’ve organized my books so the girls and I can eat every day. Even if I haven’t figured out the whole health insurance issue. But I have that insurance broker’s number, so . . .”
He met my gaze, nodding. For a long moment I held it, arrested by the uncertainty I saw there. Everything felt too big all of a sudden. Goodbye lingered like a hummingbird.
“Bethany—”
“Don’t.” I held up a hand, panic in my voice. “Please, don’t. This is . . . I agreed to this. I just have to accept it now. I get that. Just . . . give me some time to wrap my head around it.” My voice softened. “This is harder than I thought it would be, and I knew it would suck.”
He paused, studying me. “All right. Well, I wanted to show you one more thing tonight.” He grabbed an envelope on the table and slid it to me. I withdrew a folded sheath of papers and opened them.