Page 71 of Very Unlikely
“There isn’t. I already checked, and umm…” He swallows like his next set of words are as hard for him to deliver as they are for me to hear. “I also don’t want that.” He locks his eyes with mine before muttering, “I think we made a mistake last week.”
“And I think you’re overreacting. I get that you’re scared.”
I startle when he shouts, “I’m not scared!” A tear rolls down my cheek when he murmurs, “This just isn’t what I want. I don’t wantthis.”During the ‘this’ part of his comment, he thrusts his hand at my father’s trailer. The disgust on his face is nothing like I’ve ever seen.
I’m about to defend my father’s honor, but before I can, Lennox hits me right where it hurts. “He could have died, Summer. He could have made you an orphan because he stupidly believed love would be enough.”
“Itisenough.”
The lights of Tommy’s trailer switch on when Lennox shouts, “No, it isn’t. It isn’t enough! I want more. You should want more. Wedeservemore.” His lips quiver against my forehead when he presses them to my head and murmurs, “And I’m going to get it.”
Scared I’ll never see him again if I let him leave, I snatch up his wrist and say, “I’ll come with you. Just let me pack a bag and say goodbye to my dad. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“No, Summer,” he replies with a brisk shake of his head. “That’s what you’re not comprehending. I don’t want you to come with me.” He frees himself from my hold. “Okay?”
What am I meant to say? I’m not okay, but he’s made himself abundantly clear, so I reply, “Okay,” like my heart isn’t being torn to shreds before tacking a stupid offer onto my reply, “Would you like me to drive you to the airport?”
I realize my offer is pointless when he nudges his head to a cab parked at the front of the trailer park. When he pulls a duffle bag out of the back of my father’s truck, I realize his decision wasn’t made lightly. He’s been planning this for some time, possibly before we even left Ravenshoe.
He did kiss me on the cheek after a night of passion.
What more of a sign do I need than that?
“Once you’ve settled back at Morrison, I’ll send a courier to pick up my stuff.”
“So that’s it?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “We mess the sheets one night, and our friendship is over?” I don’t give him the chance to reply. “Wow. You really are a fucking asshole.”
I push him away from me with an anger that will hurt me for years to come before I storm into the trailer and slam the door behind me. I don’t permit my tears to fall until his steps decrease in volume instead of increasing, and the buzz of an idling engine is no longer heard.
30
Summer
Six weeks later…
“And as I told you last week, Mr. Robertson,” I shout down the line, uncaring that his cat ‘supposedly’ had three hip replacement surgeries in the past month. “Your car will not be returned to you until you pay what is owedin full. And don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing a fancy new watch at the jewelers last week. Custom pieces don’t come cheap.” Over his constant lies that he doesn’t have the money to pay for the services my father has completed on his brand-new Range Rover the past year, I shorten the leniency of my terms. My father’s business wouldn’t be struggling anywhere near as much as it is if he started demanding payment for services rendered. “Actually, you have until close of business today to fix the oversight before I test out your vehicle’s all-terrain capabilities on every back road from here to Morrison.”
“You wouldn’t…”
“Oh, yes, I would,” I reply. “And I’ll smile while doing it.” It may be as fake as the ones I’ve constantly forced onto my face the past six weeks, but any smile is better than no smile.
My father’s recovery was the stuff of legends, but it’s hard to see the glory in things when you’re mending a broken heart. Lennox hasn’t contacted me once in the past six weeks. There have been no messages, no calls, and no stupid pings on apps I have no right to be on since one-night stands aren’t my thing.
The one andonlynight I spent with Lennox is proof I’m not cut out for one-and-done exchanges. It ruined my life in more ways than one and made me a grouchy, reclused bitch.
I would have preferred to remain a tomboy.
My focus shifts back to getting my father’s books in order when Mr. Robertson tries one last shifty maneuver to have me backing down on my stance. “The impounding of my car is theft, so anticipate a visit from a member of the local sheriff’s office sometime today.”
“I very much look forward to their visit. I hope they send Duncan. We had quite a nice chat last week when I installed child safety seats into his Jeep as a favor for his up-front and on-time payments over the past six years. But if not, Ralph, Thomas, or Nathan will work out just as well. We get along with allourpayingcustomers.”
In case he missed my snarky tone, I slam down the phone’s receiver three times before tossing it across the office like it isn’t attached by a stringy cord. Yes, that’s how dated my father’s office equipment is.
My eyes pop up from the paperwork I’ve been wrangling into submission the past four weeks when a familiar voice says, “Perhaps they should have signed you on to pitch for three years instead of Jamison. You have a lot of strength behind your throws.”
My hope that Lennox had a change of heart ended the instant his mother’s maiden name left my accoster’s mouth. He may be arrogant, but he never referred to himself as a third person.
“How have you been, Summer?” Cody asks while entering my father’s office at the front of his mechanic shop.
