I hugged him, grateful, burrowing my face into his neck.
He was such a good man.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He kissed the top of my head.
“I’l erase your day after I get back from the Haunted House,” I offered.
His hand went to my chin and lifted it up so I was looking at him. His eyes had that look in them again, the soft, warm look that made my stomach pitch. “I’m gonna hold you to that,” he said.
I found I had no problem with that at al .
* * * * *
We dropped Shamus off at his house and he took me to a restaurant cal ed Reiver’s that was on a street cal ed South Gaylord which was in Hank’s ‘hood. We sat at the bar and Hank ordered for us. Our beers had just been bar and Hank ordered for us. Our beers had just been delivered when my purse rang. I yanked out my phone, flipped it open and put it to my ear. “Hel o?” “Yo Bitch!” Annette yel ed into my ear. “Get shot at today?” she asked.
I looked at Hank and mouthed “Annette.” I watched the sides of his lips turn up, then to Annette I said, “Not yet.”
“Girl, Jason and I are in love,” she said.
I smiled at the phone. “I already know that.”
“No, I mean with Colorado. We’ve been mountain biking al day. It’s unbelievably amazing,” she told me.
“I’m glad you’re having fun.”
“Fun? This isn’t fun. This is nirvana. The trails here kick… fucking… ass. Sofa-King phat. Bitch, I’m opening Head 2, Electric Boogaloo in Denver. There’s a store across the street from Fortnum’s that’s for lease. I’m not f**king joking. I’m cal ing about it tomorrow.” Holy cow.
I wasn’t sure this was good. In fact, I was pretty sure this wasn’t good. I didn’t want Annette moving to Denver.
As for myself, I was in Denver-limbo. I couldn’t leave, I wasn’t going to stay.
I’d had a day without incident, time to settle, get my mind around things. I’d cleared my email, did some work, felt my life wasn’t total y out of control.
And I knew what I eventual y had to do.
The signs were al there; the right ones. Lee’s cheek kiss, Kitty Sue making us spaghetti, Indy’s unspoken invitation to the Sacred Sisterhood of Nightingale Women, me getting straight As on Malcolm’s Test.
It wasn’t that, it was me.
Things with Hank were good, f**king fantastic actual y, but that wasn’t going to last. I knew that like I knew The Gap’s clothing sizes ran smal . I was damaged goods and when things settled down and Hank had a minute to think, he’d realize just what I was and that he could do better. I wanted to be long gone before that happened.
My plan was simple. I was going to ride the wave, get safe and not cause any (more) trouble and then I was getting the f**k out of Dodge.
I knew I’d lost my heart, it was too late to protect that, but I wasn’t going to give it time. I wasn’t going to be there when the warm, soft look in Hank’s whisky eyes turned cold.
I came out of my thoughts and re-entered the phone conversation. “Annette –” I started to say in protest.
“No talking me out of it. Jason and I are both agreed.
Anyway, we real y like your friends.”
I looked at Hank. “They aren’t my friends, they’re Hank’s.”
“They’re everyone’s friends,” Annette declared as I watched Hank’s eyes flicker with control ed frustration.
Annette went on. “We’re coming down the mountain now, then we’l shower and get some food. We’re supposed to meet at Al y’s at eight thirty. See you there.” Then she disconnected.