Page 54 of Bedding the Biker Next Door

She took a deep, shallow breath and raised her chin. “Of course, Cole. Take all the time you need.”

Once he disappeared, Jill dropped her head into her hands. She’d known this would be difficult. He had watched his mother wither away while he could do nothing to protect her, nothing to save her. And now, he was imagining being tied down to Jill, too. This was his worst nightmare coming true.

She could hear his voice on the phone outside getting farther and farther away. Was he leaving for a while? Had she just ruined everything?

Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t contain the pain. The tears spilled over, and she gasped for breath, her body shaking as she tried to hold it in. But she couldn’t. She just let it out, crying like she hadn’t in years, unable to erase the look on his face when she gave him the news. She cried and cried.

And he wasn’t there to comfort her.

* * *

After talking to Luke and giving him his opinion on a matter that had come up on the Taylor job, Cole mounted his bike before he even decided to go for a ride. It was just habit. Autopilot. Clarity and freedom came to him in the form of whipping wind, and his bike hummed under him as the world whizzed by.

He didn’t want to lose Jill. Not now. Not later to some disease, either. He should have stayed and talked it out with her, but his emotions had taken over. His vision had just about crossed as he’d hurried down the stairs, trying to get away from her. He needed to be alone and think, yes, but was he running away? Was that what his bike was for, had been for, all these years? To run from his problems? No, he told himself. He needed to make sure he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.

He tried to picture going back to the way life had been before he met her, and it looked dark and bleak. Pointless. She was the bright spot in his life, making everything better. He wanted her with him, in his life, making memories and sharing things.

But what if she got sick again? How would he handle it if she died? Could he survive losing her like that? People die every day, he told himself. They die from car accidents, they die from heart attacks, they die from hidden ailments all the time. So what? He wasn’t supposed to take a risk and love someone, just because there was a chance he’d lose her?

No matter what came their way, he wanted them to go through it together.

He drove past the bay, chasing the moon’s reflection out on the water, and then drove some more, just to wash away the negative emotions. The entire night had been cleansing, and he felt like he had to pause and live it. After a while, he felt renewed and refreshed, ready to figure out what all of this meant. Then suddenly, he felt guilty—he’d left Jill at home, hadn’t even told her that he’d be back soon, and she was probably wondering where he’d gone. Or worse—she might not be there at all anymore.

He raced home, hoping she was still there, feeling stupid for having abandoned her, after he said he would take care of her. To make things worse, it was late, probably close to midnight. He’d lost track of time.

He unlocked the door and threw it open. “Jill!”

The condo was dark save the kitchen light. He quietly entered the bedroom, hoping they could still talk. He’d tell her he was sorry for running out on her, but that he was ready and willing to take her on—to take love on.

But she wasn’t there.

Cole flicked on the light. The bed was made. He saw none of her things. Nothing in the bathroom either. Walking through the house, it was like Jill had never been there.

Then he saw it—a piece of paper on the counter.

Cole,

I’m sorry I surprised you with that, and that it upset you. I just wanted to be honest. It felt like things were at the point where you needed to know. Maybe it was too much, but I suppose we should be glad to know that sooner rather than later. I think it’s best if I go home.

Thank you so much for everything.

Jill

Cole stared blankly at the wall.

How had he messed things up so badly?

Chapter Twenty-One

The next morning, Jill dragged herself out of bed. Her body hurt all over, like she’d just recovered from the flu. It could’ve been from driving so late at night, or it could’ve been from the motorcycle ride so soon after her hospital release, but she knew it was because her heart was broken. The best thing would be going back to work and putting her life back together. She could glue her heart together, too, if needed.

When she managed to get up and about, she texted Liz: I’m back home. The security is installed. Talk at lunch about starting things up again?

Then something else occurred to her—she still needed to plan for Cole selling her house. But not now. She wasn’t ready to start thinking of her future—a future without Cole.

Still feeling stiff, she ambled around her house. Someone had cleaned up. The bathroom wasn’t in disarray, as she expected. It was like nothing terrible had happened there. As she turned to head back into the bedroom, she saw a black swatch of fabric sticking out from under her bed. It was a black baseball hat. She had never owned a baseball hat in her life.

But she immediately knew who it belonged to.

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