Page 32 of Summer Affair
That seemed to wipe the hurt from her eyes. “Don’t be sweet. It makes it hard to be mad at you.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“Is it true? Did you pay for Sammy’s camp?” she asked quietly.
He considered denying it, but there was something in the way she held herself, chin up and shoulders back as if she were trying to stand up to him, and that didn’t settle right with him. “Yes.”
“Did you do it before or after we kissed?”
“Before.”
She took a tiny step back, but it felt as if the Grand Canyon was suddenly between them. She crossed her arms over her chest but didn’t look away. Oh no, she held his gaze, even though hers suddenly seemed closed off, like the gates slammed shut and he was on the outside. “And you somehow pulled strings to get Sammy in, right? That’s why a spot suddenly opened up?”
He stepped closer and she backed up. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you think to tell me? I had to find out from someone else.”
“That was an anonymous donation, but I can see the concept is too much for a Tiny Tike league.”
“I don’t want your money, Clay.” And wasn’t that ironic. Every woman he’d dated since being drafted had wanted something from him. All Jillian had wanted was honesty.
“Never said you did.”
“Then why did you pay for Sammy’s camp?”
“The truth is, I like Sammy and I want him to have a good summer. I remember how much football camp meant to me. I looked forward to it every summer and seeing Sammy’s face light up when we tossed the ball around reminded me of that. I would have donated anyway, why not for Sammy?”
She considered that for a moment. Some of the tension left and her shoulders relaxed a tiny bit. “I guess it’s not the action that I’m stuck on. It’s the omission,” she said. “You let me kiss you knowing that you were hiding something.”
“I wasn’t hiding. I just wanted to help.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled it back.
“Making decisions without consulting me isn’t helping, it’s you deciding what’s right for me and my family.” Her smile was so damn sad it made his chest ache. “I lived years of omissions, wasted a decade of my life on a man who took away my choices. I promised myself I wouldn’t be glossed over ever again.”
“That was never my intention.” But now that she said it like that, he could see exactly where he’d gone wrong. What he’d thought was a nice gesture to make her life easier had been seen as a lie. Because in his book, omission was just a fancy word for lie. And from what he knew of her ex, Jillian had been lied to and stepped on time and again. “I should have been straight with you, and I am so damn sorry.”
Her eyes went a little too misty for his liking. “Me too.”
With that, she turned and walked away, over the bridge and into her house, where he was pretty sure she was crying. And that was on him.
Chapter Ten
Resolutions from Jillian’s Journal
Give up doughnuts for six months and
inevitably give up resolution.
It was still early in the evening, but Stout was already packed. Sports fans had turned out in masses, as well as some of the regular cleat chasers. Normally, Clay would enjoy a little flirt on, maybe get someone’s number or a lot of someones’ numbers, but that didn’t sound all that appealing.
The only someone’s number he was interested in was uncharacteristically absent. Jillian was usually a staple on Fridays. She’d come in with Clay’s two sisters-in-law for girls’ night. But as Clay took in the bar, he spotted Piper and Darcy, but Jillian was disappointedly absent.
He considered leaving, just in case she’d skipped girls’ night because of him, except before he could leave one of his old buddies recognized him, and then another until a chorus of “hey”s and “good to see you”s erupted, making him wonder how he’d ever found this part of the job enjoyable. His dad’s bar was as much a part of his life as his family, but he missed the days when he could drink a brew without having to be “on.”
A few pats on the back and several offers to buy him a beer later, he sidestepped the crush of the crowd and finally made his way to the bar, where Owen had a roped-off section just for family. It was a way for the brothers to enjoy each other without having to mix with the greater crowd. Especially when Rhett was in town—then things could get crazy.
“Give me a cold one.”
Owen walked over, a tray of empty bottles in hand, and shot Clay a rare smile. Not that he didn’t smile whenever around a pretty lady. He always had a reserve for that. Flirting went with running a bar, but Owen took it to new heights. This grin was shit-eating, one he reserved just for Clay.
