Love Like You've Never Been Hurt (20 page)

“Oh well. You were an idiot once more, Emma Douglas.”

She got into the station wagon and started it up. She didn’t
want to believe that this was how it was. After last night, after
everything he’d said, was it really only a one night stand to
him? Suddenly convinced that she was simply getting carried away by
her fears again, she fished her cell phone from her purse and dialed
his number. Her heart beat fast as she hoped against hope that she
would hear his deep laugh and some logical explanation. It rang and
rang then, “You’ve reached Jack Benson....” She
hung up. “So that’s how it is then, Jack?” She put
the station wagon in gear and headed out for the city.

Inside the house, on the little table at the top of the stairs,
Jack’s cell phone flashed, ‘Missed Call’.

Emma turned the station wagon onto the unpaved county road and
headed up to Route 20. At least living up here on the North end of
the lake she could use this shortcut and be on the freeway fifteen
minutes sooner than if she had to go down through town. Though she
would never go this way in her own car. She’d been so excited
for Jack to see her car. Now she didn’t know if she was more
hurt or angry. She’d been such a fool, falling for all his
sweet talk, believing that, perhaps, he really might care about her.
Giving herself to him so willingly once he’d talked his way
past her reservations.

“Damn you, Jack! And you can forget the friendship,”
she fumed to herself as she sped towards LA.

She’d been on the road for almost an hour, alternating
between anger at herself and anger at Jack when her phone rang and
her heart leaped. She didn’t normally touch a phone when she
was driving, her own car had a hands free system, but Holly’s
old station wagon didn’t. She picked it up, hoping it would be
him, but instead she saw Pete’s name on the display. She
dropped it back on the seat.

“Not talking to you,” she said. “You vouched for
him.”

Jack cursed as he ran.
“Dammit!” he shouted as yet another stone caught in his
flip flop. He stopped, hopping around in the middle of the road
holding his foot. Please, God! Would someone drive by and give him a
ride? It was seven thirty already! This had seemed like such a neat
idea this morning. How had it gotten so badly screwed up? He’d
woken early and lain watching Emma sleep, her hair spread over the
pillow around her. So beautiful. She’d surprised him last night
with her passion, her lack of inhibition once she’d surrendered
to him. He’d lain there beside her as the dawn broke, daring to
believe that she might come to love him. He already knew he loved
her. The trust he’d seen in her eyes had told him he was on the
way to convincing her that he was for real. That he wasn’t like
that... that... He clenched his fists and started jogging again. He’d
used up his whole repertoire of expletives thinking about the man
she’d been married to, the man who had broken her heart.
Watching her in the gray light of the predawn, he couldn’t
understand how any man could ever hurt her, let alone treat her like
that idiot had. He truly hoped for both their sakes that his path
never crossed with Rob’s.

He’d wanted so badly to hold her as she slept. She brought
out all his protective instincts. He’d wanted to take her in
his arms and never let her go. Of course he’d wanted to make
love to her again too, but he knew she had a long day ahead. LA and
back would be at least eight hours on the road. He’d been
surprised, but pleased, that she wasn’t staying the night
there. Instead, he’d gotten up, gone and sat on the deck as the
sky lightened into a new day. Then he’d had what at the time
seemed like a great idea and yet now seemed like the dumbest move he
had ever made.

He’d decided to take the truck down to the resort to buy her
doughnuts. He could be back and have her coffee made before she awoke
– or so he’d thought. He hadn’t added the truck key
to his keyring with the others yet. It was right there in his hip
pocket, so he’d jumped straight in the truck, hoping not to
disturb her by going back indoors, and headed off to buy doughnuts.
She’d said she’d make him breakfast, but he wanted to
give her a nice surprise and maybe a snack for her drive. He wanted
her to know that he paid attention to what she liked and would go out
of his way to get it for her. Ben had said they made doughnuts fresh
at five every morning, it seemed perfect.

He’d made it into the resort and bought them no problem. It
was on the way back, on the road up the western shore, that a deer
had run out in front of him. He’d swerved to avoid it and
succeeded but, in doing so, his front tire had gone off the pavement,
hit a rock and blown out. He hadn’t even been too worried at
that. He’d checked the truck over the first night Gramps gave
it to him. There was a decent spare and a jack, he could have it
changed in no time and be back, hopefully still before she awoke, but
at least with plenty of time before she had to leave.

He’d hauled the spare out and jacked up the truck. The lug
nuts were tight but he’d got them off no problem, all six of
them. It was when he’d gone to mount the spare that he’d
known he was really in trouble, it had eight holes not six! It was
probably for one of the big old Fords behind Gramps’ workshop,
but it certainly wasn’t going to fit on this truck. Great! He’d
reached into his back pocket for his phone to call Emma and ask her
to come rescue him – not the early morning surprise he’d
hoped to give her. But, of course, his phone wasn’t in his
pocket. He remembered removing it to give her better access to his
butt last night. It was still sitting on the little table on the
landing along with the rest of his keys.

“Son of a ….” He’d thrown the spare back
in the truck and locked it up. He reckoned he was still about eight
miles from the house. Checking his watch he realized that even at the
height of his running days, he wouldn’t have made it before
eight, especially in flip flops. He’d set out anyway, hoping
that maybe he’d get lucky and someone would happen along and
give him a ride. Of course, that hadn’t happened and now here
he was, jogging along an empty road with a bruised foot while Emma
would be speeding off to LA, no doubt believing that he was all she’d
feared him to be. That he’d had his wicked way with her and
then slunk off into the night.

He jogged on, despite the pain in his foot. He actually believed
it was the least he deserved for being such an idiot. Sweaty, his
head banging and his heart sinking, he came in sight of the house.
For the last mile or so he’d allowed himself to hope that just
maybe she would still be there, that she’d decided to wait for
his return. After all, wouldn’t she have passed him if she’d
left? As he came down the driveway, though, the worst of his fears
were confirmed. The station wagon was gone, damn. At least he’d
left the RV unlocked. He thought of his keys, sitting with his phone
on that little table. Maybe she’d left them out for him. He
checked on the deck. Nothing. He tried the front door. Locked.

He returned to the RV. He couldn’t call her, since the only
place he had her number was in his phone, so all he could do was call
Pete and ask for it. He really did not want to explain why he needed
it. He ran his fingers through his hair in agitation as he fired up
his computer and waited for it to boot.

“Come on, come on.” Thank God he had an internet phone
account. He clicked on Pete’s cell number and drummed his
fingers impatiently as it dialed and then rang.

“I need to get her number. I don’t need to explain
anything at all,” he thought.

Pete’s voice mail clicked in.

“You’ve reached Pete Hemming...” Jack clicked
the End Call icon, he didn’t want to leave a message! Damn you,
Pete. Pick up! He clicked on Pete’s office phone.

“Good Morning, Mr. Hemming’s office, this is Judy
sp....”

Jack didn’t wait for her to finish, “Judy, is he
there?”

“Oh. Good morning, Jack. Yes, but I’m afraid he’s
in with Mr. Bowers.”

“Damn!”

“Is everything all right, Jack?” Judy sounded shocked;
he obviously wasn’t controlling his frustration too well. “He
said no calls, but do you want me to buzz you through?”

He sighed. “Sorry, Judy. No, don’t interrupt him, it’s
OK. What time are you expecting him finished?”

“He said to take in coffee at ten.”

“Great.” Jack groaned. Emma would be halfway to LA by
then, all the while thinking he’d run out on her. Still, he
couldn’t go interrupting Pete with Bowers; he’d been
working on that deal for months.

“Jack, can I do anything to help?” He was obviously
blowing his reputation of being unflappable here.

He hesitated for a moment. Would Judy have the number? Probably
not and he was in no mood to explain himself. He sighed again,
regaining his composure.

“Sorry Judy, it’s fine, thank you though. Nothing I
can’t handle.” How he hoped that would prove to be true.
“Is everything OK there?” He tried to sound more normal.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Good, well, thanks then, bye.” He hung up a little
too quickly as it dawned on him that he could look up Missy’s
cleaning business and call her instead. If he had to explain to
anyone about why he needed Emma’s number, he figured Missy
would be the lesser of all evils.

Back in LA Judy sat staring at her phone, hoping Jack was really
all right. That had been so out of character for him that she had to
wonder what was wrong. In all the years she’d worked at Phoenix
she’d never known him to get ruffled. He handled everything in
a cool, calm, confident manner that she admired greatly, and that she
knew caused many hearts to flutter around the building. He hadn’t
even asked for Pete to call him back. Maybe she’d give Pete a
note when she took in the coffee.

Jack searched online and found the listing for Missy’s
cleaning company. He typed the number in and waited, hoping this
wasn’t a mistake. Emma was no doubt already thinking the worst
of him, he didn’t want her thinking that he was going around
telling people her business too.

“Welcome to Sunshine Cleaning Service,” Missy’s
voice rang out, “Sorry we can’t take your call right
now…”

Jack clicked to disconnect and sat down heavily. Another
answering machine that he didn’t want to talk to. Could this
day get any worse? As if to answer that question he heard a car
approaching and looked out to see Gramps’ old Ford pulling in.
Oh man. If there was anyone he didn’t want to explain the
situation to, it was Gramps! How to explain why he needed Emma’s
number? And oh, by the way, if he could just collect his keys and
phone from outside her bedroom door, that would be great too! He
shook his head and headed out to meet the old man. He had no idea how
to handle this one but he was going to meet it head on. He was used
to dealing with anything and everything that life and business threw
at him. He prided himself on stepping in and making things look easy,
however, when it came to Emma, he felt he kept messing everything up,
bumbling around like a love-struck kid.

“How’s it going, son?” Gramps greeted him with a
friendly smile.

Jack grimaced. “Let’s just say today isn’t off
to the best to start.”

“I reckoned as much. And I’m thinking that might be my
fault. I went down for doughnuts this morning,” he gave Jack a
long, measuring look. Jack simply nodded. “They said they’d
seen you bright and early, and then I saw the truck out on the West
Shore. I stopped for a look and saw that spare. I’m sorry, I
must’ve mixed up my spares when I checked ‘em all over.”

“That’s all right. I should have spotted it myself.”

“And she was gone before you could get back?” Gramps
jerked his head up at the house.

Jack nodded miserably. “And I didn’t have my phone, so
I couldn’t call her.”

“Well call her now, son. I’ll get out your hair.”
He turned to go.

“I still don’t have my phone, sir. Could you give me
her number?”

Gramps gave him another long look that he couldn’t decipher.
He met the old man’s eyes without flinching, even though he
felt like a kid about to be reprimanded.

“Tell you what,” said Gramps, “how about, I give
you the number, then I’ll go up to the house and fix us some
coffee while you make your call?” He took a pen and paper from
his truck and wrote down Emma’s number. “Good luck, son.”
His eyes twinkled as he handed Jack the paper. “Come on up when
you’re done.”

Jack dashed back in to his computer and tapped in her number,
memorizing it as he did. Never again would he be unable to call her.

“Please pick up, please pick up,” he murmured as it
started to ring.

“This is Emma Douglas. Leave me a message.”

Damn! “Emma, it’s Jack. Please call me back. I can
explain. It’s not what you think. I’m so sorry, Baby.
Please call me back at this number.”

He disconnected. What were the chances she would call? “Slim
to none,” he thought ruefully. He’d let her down. He’d
wait until Gramps had gone and then try again. He grabbed his tablet
and logged into his phone on there so if, by some miracle, she did
call back, at least he wouldn’t miss it. Tablet tucked under
his arm he headed up to the house.

Gramps had two mugs ready when he came in.

“No joy?”

Jack shook his head grimly. “I messed up, Gramps,” he
admitted.

The old man patted his shoulder. “She’ll come around,
son. You’ll see. You’ll need patience though, and you’ll
need to understand why we call her Mouse.”

Jack looked at him questioningly.

“You think of a little Mouse. It comes out of his hole and
takes a look around, checks if it’s safe to come out. Well,
that’s her. She’ll come out a little way, get some
confidence and you see the real Em, then she’ll run back in at
the first thing that spooks her. It was your friend Pete that came up
with it when she first came here, when they were little kids. She was
scared of everything and everyone, but he figured her out, always was
a good boy that one. Between him and the other two, they got her
through that time and pretty much everything since. So you see, when
she spooks, she runs off or shuts down. May take a while before she
comes back out of her mouse hole, but when she does, it’s worth
the wait and the frustration. She’s so damn cute, just like
when she first came to us, tiny little thing with blond curls and big
scared eyes she was. Always wary though, even now, even when she’s
relaxed or being the city-girl writer. She’ll run for cover in
a heartbeat, as I think you’re finding out.”