Page 104 of Four Dates and A Forever
“ButIwalked away. I gave up.” Just like her dad had done. And Axel. And Stephanie. Rhett might have broken her heart, but she’d broken her promise that she was his. She’d left him standing there in the back alley of the bar by himself because things had become too real for her.
He might have made a stupid mistake, and that’s what it was. A big, stupid, heart-wrenching mistake. But it hadn’t been intentional. She, on the other hand, knowingly took off, reconfirming his biggest fear—that he wasn’t enough to stick around for.
“He isn’t the jerkface. I am.” And she’d been too busy playing victim to see it. She’d been playing the victim card for long enough and it was not a good look—on anyone. Especially a woman who was supposed to be chasing her happy. And she’d found her happy; he was on his way to Los Angeles, probably wondering where he went wrong.
“We’re all the jerkface at one time or another,” Fay said in a very life coach tone. Then she did something very unexpected, very motherly. She cupped Elsie’s cheek.
Elsie was so taken by the gesture she almost jerked back.
“We don’t do this very well, do we?” her mom said sadly.
Elsie placed her hand over her mother’s and gave a watery smile, “I think we’re doing just fine.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Dating Tips from Elsie Dodd
Be the kind of person they marry, not
the kind they only want to date.
By the time Rhett pulled up to the Greenhill house, Littleshit was fast asleep in his carrier and Rhett was dead on his feet. He’d just returned from a trip to LA, which had been a turn and burn that lasted less than twenty-four hours. And every one of those hours were spent getting his shit together. If he was going to win Elsie back, it would take more than a few pretty words.
Pretty words, Rhett had learned, were for songs, not love—real love required action. Something he needed to do before he lost her for good. He was already nervous that he’d wasted too much time, but he needed to make sure he was doing this right.
He let himself into the house that had come to feel like a home to him. Only now it felt empty and hollow—kind of like his chest. All the lights were off and he didn’t bother turning them on. Dumping his suitcase by the door, he carried Littleshit up the stairs and into the master. Not that he planned on sleeping there, it felt wrong being there without Elsie, but he needed a hot shower and a change of clothes.
It had been three days since he’d seen or heard from her. He hadn’t been able to sleep or eat and his head was constantly pounding, because the night at the bar was on perma-play in his mind. He also hadn’t been able to reach her, he didn’t know where she’d gone to, or how she was doing—and the last part tore him in two.
Out of options, he headed back to the house to regroup before figuring out where her grandmother lived. Then he’d sit on her porch and beg until Elsie would agree to a conversation—a conversation that would show her how much she meant to him.
He flicked on the bedroom light and his heart stopped beating because there on the bed was Elsie, sitting cross-legged, looking like a beautiful lifeline he desperately needed. She was dressed in jeans and a pretty, green top, but he couldn’t tear his gaze off her eyes, which were a warm, mossy green—and locked on his.
“Red,” he said, and that was all he could get out before he ran out of air. “What are you doing here?”
“Returning your call,” she said simply.
“Returning my call?” he repeated dumbly.
“Yes.” She took a sip from a flute and that’s when he saw the bottle of bubbly on the table. “I’m sorry it took so long but I had to figure some things out.”
Besides setting the dog carrier down, he didn’t move, couldn’t. It was like his feet were glued to the floor with a powerful combination of fear and hope.
“What did you figure out?”
“That I was a jerkface,” she said, and scooted to the end of the bed. “I shouldn’t have left like that. I should have heard you out and taken a breath because then I’d realize what I was doing.”
He took a step closer. “And what was that?”
“That I was breaking a promise about staying friends no matter what,” she said, and Rhett’s heart sank. Was friendship all she wanted? Hell, he would be lucky if she’d ever consider him a friend again after what he did.
She stood and took a step. His chest loosened a tiny bit because she was stepping toward him, not away. “I know I hurt you,” she whispered. “And I am so sorry.”
As if he couldn’t breathe until she was near him, he closed the gap. “I’m the one who hurt you. I never should have even contemplated hiring Axel or given him my lawyers’ information. You were right, I do know the kind of guy he’s become but I was too wrapped up in my own drama to think things through.” He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he still wasn’t sure why she was there, and he didn’t want to make the wrong move. “It was a shit move.”
“It was.” She gave a small, trembling laugh and that’s when he realized she was as nervous as he was. And that gave him a glimmer of hope. He let out a breath and brushed the back of her hand with his. “But you didn’t do it to hurt me,” she went on. “You did it to help a friend, and I know that now.”
“Axel isn’t a friend. In fact, to me he isn’t anyone except the prick who stole my girl.”
