Page 7 of Lack of In-between
“If you’d stayed, I’d have made that happen. I saw you, too. Saw you when you walked in, but by the time I had a chance to go find you, you were already gone.” Stretching out a hand, he ran the backs of his fingers along her arm. “Why’d you leave?”
She shivered and moved her arm away. “Isawyou.” She repeated herself, special emphasis on the verb.
“If that was the reason you came, then why would it make you leave?” Wolf was getting annoyed. None of this made sense, and he really liked things to make sense. If Rose was interested in him, and he liked Rose, then why would she go out of her way to come there only to avoid him? “Help me understand.”
“The blonde.”
He stopped his head jerk in midmotion, unable to control the startled reaction entirely. “The blonde?” He was wracking his brain for what she meant and finally remembered the party girl who’d driven him away from the clubhouse and party. “Jesus, Rose. Not only was she too young for me, but I turned her down flat.” Something struck him then, and he asked, “How did you see that? You’d already left well before she showed her face.”
“Oh, no. I was there. I saw her and saw you. It’s okay if you’re taken, Wolf, but I can’t do that to another woman. I can’t be the one behind the door.” She stopped the car, and he saw they were at a deserted four-way stop. “Which way, Wolf?”
“Left two blocks, then right.” She wasn’t making any sense. He decided to restate what he felt was already obvious. “I’m not taken, Rose. I’d never play games like that. I wouldn’t care if you were there or not, the answer to her was the same. A flat turndown from me.”
“It didn’t look like a no when you wrapped her up in your arms.” She made the second turn, taking the corner fast, her jaw doing that clenching thing again.
“When I what?” Wolf glanced up to see his house approaching. “It’s the white ranch on the left.”
Rose pulled into his driveway and slammed the gearshift into park, whirling to face him, anger and unexpected pain in her expression. “You were all lovie-dovie, Wolf. It’s okay, it’s not like we’re anything. And,” she straightened her spine, shoulders shoved hard against the seat, “it’s not like we’ll ever be anything.”
“Dammit, woman, what the hell are you talking about?” He reached for her, and she slapped his hand away. “The hell?”
“Get out.” She held his gaze, those lines of strain deepening again. “Getout, Wolf.”
“Paul.” He didn’t mean to roar, but everything about the past twenty minutes was confusing and he just wanted one damned thing from her. “See me, I’m sittin’ right here. I’mPaul.”
She stared at him for a long minute, then twisted and put her hands back on the wheel. Voice quavering, she softly repeated his name. “Paul.” Then she took any solace that provided, ripping it away. “Get out.”
“Rose.” Head shaking back and forth, she slipped the car into reverse. “Rose, just give me a minute.” When her only response was to drop her forehead to rest on the top of the steering wheel, he decided to give in, for now. “Okay. I’ll get out, but this isn’t over. I want to understand what I did, and what you think you saw.”
“What IthinkI saw?” The laugh she offered was thick with unshed tears. “Nice one.”
“Give me your phone number at least.” He dug his phone out and accessed his contacts, opening a new record and waiting. After a moment she rattled off the digits, and he input and saved it, then sent her a text. “I’ll be in touch, Rose. Tonight was a lot to take in. A lot to get through. Call me, okay?”
She didn’t move, didn’t respond, and he finally opened the door and slipped out to stand next to the car.
Wolf watched her drive away, that excessive speed coming back out, tires squealing as she made the corner at the end of the street.
She didn’t look back.
Four
Rose
She was nearly home when she heard the buzz of an incoming text. The phone was buried in her purse, so she ignored it for the next few minutes. Once home, she backed into the garage and sat in the car, watching the door slowly lower in front of her, the door jittering in tiny fits and starts until it was fully closed.
Even then she didn’t move. Hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, she let the events of the evening replay through her head. Noticing the van as she rang up Tom and Barbara’s bill. Not that they’d eaten in the diner before, but she’d overheard them talking to each other and noted the names.
Her therapist called it hypervigilance. Rose just knew if she stayed watchful, she felt more in control.
The engine finished cooling before she was able to force herself to unlock the car doors, the slowing ticks of contracting metal silenced. The overhead light had timed out long ago, leaving her fumbling along the side of the car in the dark, feeling her way.
She rounded the bumper, and the lights of the van speared her in the eyes, the roar of its engine growing louder as it raced towards the diner. Rose flung up her hands in defense, contents of her purse scattering as she dodged to the side. A moment later, she lowered her arms and opened her eyes to see the tiny motion-controlled nightlight plugged into an electric outlet next to the door. “Christ on a crutch.”
Rose stared down, cataloging the items on the floor. The one thing conspicuously absent was her phone, and she checked to find it was apparently the only thing that hadn’t been thrown from the purse when she reacted. Her finger touched the screen, waking the device, and she saw more than twenty missed texts and calls.
Shaking her head, she shoved the phone into her apron pocket, only then realizing she’d never removed it after the diner. Stooping next to the car, she shuffled and duckwalked around, gathering up her belongings and shoving them back into the purse. Bent over as she was, she received the vibrating alert of additional texts against her belly, flesh cringing away from the constant rattle.
Inside the house finally, she toed off her shoes and put them into the closet before taking off the apron. Phone retrieved, she locked the door and made her way to the bedroom. A glance at the clock had her gasping, because she’d no idea it was so late, after three o’clock in the morning, but a quick check of the phone showed it wasn’t wrong.
