Page 56 of Chasing Wildflowers
He gives me that grin that makes me want to rip his clothes off like a sex crazed lunatic. “Lucky for you, I’m an excellent cook.”
He comes around the island and pulls me into his arms, kissing me again.
“Dinner smells delicious, baby.” He grabs my hand, guiding me to the table, with that easy confidence of his. The chair legs scrape against the tile as he pulls it out, waiting until I’m seated to take his own across from me.
I stare at him for a moment, admiring his beauty. His rough, tattooed, very large exterior does not at allmatch his soft and tender insides. He gives both the golden retriever and touch her and die,literally, vibes at the same time. Yet it somehow works for him.
Kam’s right, I need to just talk to him. Nothing to be afraid of.
Jameson’s eyes hold mine as he dishes pasta onto a plate. “What’s on your mind, Lane?” His ability to read me so easily should unsettle me but it doesn’t.
I take the dish of pasta from his hands, setting it in front of me, with a soft thud. “Why haven’t we talked about what happens after your job here is done?” I ask, biting my bottom lip, my nerves coming back full force now that it’s out of my mouth.
He pauses, setting his half filled plate in front of him, and rests his forearms on the table, giving me his full attention. “Why do you think we haven’t talked about it?”
I sigh. “Because you were waiting for me to get there.” Damn it. Why the hell does Kam always have to be right? And why the hell is Jameson so damn perfect?
He nods, and picks up his plate, dumping more pasta on top. “I’ll be here for at least two more months. I’m still figuring out the rest, but I will figure it out. This is real for me, Lane.” He holds my eyes, making damn sure I see the promise in them.
The knot in my stomach loosens. “It’s real for me too.”
The rest of dinner is filled with laughter and flirtatious smiles. We go back and forth asking each other questions about our childhood and our plans for the future. I’m as honest as I can be while still protecting myself. I still hate that I’m lying to him, but I’ve come to accept that it’s a necessary evil.
I became Lane to find happiness, and I refuse to let Ceciley’s life ruin it.
Twenty-three
Jameson
Like a Stoneby Audioslave plays from the speakers, the smooth mellow rock filling the cab of my Bronco. I’m sitting outside ofThe Broken Bottle, the sky painted bright oranges and pinks from the setting sun.
Guilt sits heavy in my chest as I stare at the door, waiting for Lane to walk out. Lying to her is becoming harder and harder every day. I’m planning a future with her that I’m not sure I can promise.
I’ve tried to tell her but the words get caught in my throat, fear taking over. A fear I’ve never felt before. Losing Lane would destroy me, leaving me a shell of a man.
While I’ve been playing house with Lane, Miles has been working on a program that he says “will pin the asshole down”. The only problem? We need the client to call for it to work. Which he hasn’t.
The fact that he hasn’t checked in with me, demanding my progress, makes my skin itch. Why hasn’t he called?
Impatience wins out, and I call Miles.
“I told you, I’d call when I’m finished. You calling me won’t make that happen any faster,” he says flatly, without saying hello.
This isn’t the first time I’ve called in the past few days and his annoyance is clear.
“I keep getting this feeling like we are running out of time,” I mutter, my eyes snagging on the door as it swings open. A few regulars I’ve come to recognize step out, their laughter spilling into the cool night air.
“I think it’s time we call him.”
I don’t have to ask who thehimis. My jaw clenches. “No fucking way. I’m not dragging him into our shit.”
He blows out an exasperated breath. “I’m close, but we can’t even use the program until he calls, which could be anywhere between now and three months from now. If you want him found faster, make that call; otherwise, I have other cases and a program to write. Don’t call me, I'll call you.” He hangs up before I can pester him further.
Asshole.
He’s right, though, we still have time. He hasn’t called because he gave us a time limit, and we are still well within it.
I don’t need to callhim.
