See Jane Fall (16 page)

“Will you hand me my phone?” she asked, and
a moment later he nudged her back with it.

More boobie shots, several texts from United
Airlines reconfirming everyone’s travel plans, a text from Ray,
several from Sebastian and—of course—a few from Samara too, the
most recent of which read:
On plane. Sebastian sux. Want the
cowboy in my bed 2nite. –S

Jane’s shoulders rolled forward and she
bowed her head, her eyes welling with tears.

“Everything okay?” he asked from behind
her.

“Business as usual,” she muttered without
looking at him.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Nope. Go ahead.” She still didn’t look at
him.

Jane scrolled through the other messages.
They could wait.

The first thing she needed to do was tell
Lars that this was over. She needed to say good-bye. If, by some
miracle, they got to the end of the week and he had been able to
resist Samara? She would jump into his arms and never let him out
of her sight again for as long as she lived. But, it was a less
than one percent chance that he could meet Samara and choose Jane.
When he did, she didn’t want any ties to him. She didn’t want to
feel the pain of losing something that she thought belonged to
her.

She plugged in the phone to charge it and
ran her hands through her hair, picking up her Boston College
sweatshirt and shrugging into it. Her skirt had twisted around in
her sleep, and she righted it. She pulled her curls up into a messy
ponytail, and put her Red Sox hat on over it. Then she sat down in
the chair at the desk and waited for him. Her heart started
thumping like crazy when she heard him turn off the faucet and her
breath caught when he opened the door, taking up the entire space
of the doorway with his beautiful body. He had washed his face and
hands, and must have run his hands through his hair, because it
glistened. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled his shirt on
over his head then reached down for his shoes.

“Lars,” she started and he looked up,
tilting his head to the side, blue eyes twinkling.

I am totally crazy about you, but I can’t be
with you. Whatever’s between us has to end here and now so you’re
free to do whatever you want.

She stared at him, her heart racing. She
offered him a small, tentative smile.

“What’s up, Min—er, Jane? I might slip, but
I’ll try.” He sort of chuckled, finishing his laces and standing
up.

And just like that…she couldn’t do it.

She watched from her seat at the table as he
reached down, grabbing the picnic backpack up and easily swinging
it onto his shoulder. She could feel the moment slipping through
her fingers and her mind raced through the past three days with
him: meeting him at the airport, listening to music together, the
moment he learned she was Samara’s cousin, the first time he
touched her hand in his truck, showing her the bison, kissing her
in the truck near Yellowstone Lake, the fireworks, dancing in her
motel room, waking up in his arms…it had all been a little piece of
heaven. Her heart twisted in her chest and she ground her teeth
together, her nostrils flaring to keep from crying.

“I had a great time with you, Jane.” He
leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s going to be okay.
Don’t worry, huh?”

She nodded, swallowing against the enormous
lump in her throat.

“I’ll pick you up in an hour or so? We’ll
head to the airport?”

She smiled at him and it took every ounce of
strength she had to pull it off. “Sounds great.”

He winked at her, pulling the door shut
behind him as he left her room.

Jane closed her eyes, exhaling until her
lungs were empty and burning, and her shoulders fell forward under
the sheer weight of her sorrow. The first sob, as she drew a
painful breath and exhaled again, was louder than she anticipated,
so she covered her mouth with her hands to muffle the rest as her
body shook with the force of her silent weeping.

She had promised herself she wouldn’t let
this happen again. She would never leave herself unprotected like
this. She would never set herself up for this high a fall. She had
promised herself she would never, ever let this happen again.

But, it had.

Only it was much worse this time:

She’d given Ben her body, but over a mere
three days, she’d given Lars her heart.

***

Jane was all business when he returned to
pick her up. That, and she was back in her banged-up jeans, baggie
sweatshirt, glasses and cap, which made him miss the fresh-faced
girl from last night and the warm, wide-eyed, tousled girl waking
up next to him this morning, looking so sweet and young, her hair
soft and loose.

She sat next to him in the van on the way to
the airport, barely saying a word, alternately texting and making
phone calls to confirm the flight arrival time, or to coordinate
someone from
Trend
with Samara’s personal team. Lars could
see that she was efficient and professional, courteous in her
dealings with people, saying “please” and “thank you” nearly
constantly, chuckling politely and making small talk when people
realized whom she worked for.

He looked out the window, wishing that
they’d had one more day together before today, wishing they’d had
one more night like last night. He sensed that she was putting some
distance between them as she’d done before on Sunday morning; too
bad he didn’t have any bison around this time to bring down that
wall again.

He thought about the story she told him last
night about the man in Cairo who had wined and dined her, then
promptly dumped her when her cousin got to town. It was clear how
hurt she had been by that episode and how much it made her distrust
her cousin and the men she encountered for her work. He had a week
to prove to her that he was different and he intended to make the
most of it. As long as she would give him a chance, he’d be sure
she didn’t regret it.

He spoke when she appeared to have a short
break between phone calls.

“Jane.”

“Hmm?” She didn’t look up and her thumbs
kept moving like lightning.

“About last night…”

“Hmm?” she asked again. The phone was still
commanding one hundred percent of her attention. He just wanted a
little of it before Samara and her entourage arrived and they
weren’t alone anymore.

“Remember that last kiss before we fell
asleep?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Wasn’t any good, huh?”

Her thumbs stopped abruptly and she looked
up, finding him over the rims of her glasses. “You didn’t think
so?”

He shook his head then grinned at her. “More
like fantastic.”

She looked like she was about to say
something back, then she must have thought better of it, and looked
back down at her phone. “Quit distracting me.”

“Just wondered what it would take to get
your nose out of your phone.”

“I am very important today, Professor. No
time for games.”

“Okay. Then how about the direct
approach…when do I get to see you again?”

“I think we’re both going to be very
busy.”

Yeah, I’d like to be very busy. With
you.

“Too busy for—?”

Jane took a deep breath, putting her phone
down and crossing her legs toward him. “You don’t get it. Tornado’s
coming, son. Keep your head down and take cover. Maybe I’ll—maybe
I’ll catch you on the flip side.”

“
Maybe
you’ll catch me on the flip
side? Why not take cover with me instead? I have
nice
covers.”

When he glanced over, she was still staring
at her phone, but trying not to smile. He could tell, and it made
him happy.

“I bet you do.”

“I’m anxious to show them to you.”

“Is that right?”

“Anytime you want, Minx.”

He pulled into the airport parking lot,
waving briefly at John, but not rolling down his window to invite
further conversation today. What little time they had he wanted to
spend alone with Jane.

He cut the engine and stared out the
windshield, waiting for her to say something. He could feel her
staring at him.

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay, you want to come see my covers?”

“No. Well, yes. But, no.” She looked down,
swallowing, and she shifted her phone from hand to hand, nervously.
“I need to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

She looked down and swallowed again before
raising her eyes to his. Hers weren’t playful; they were serious
and nervous. Maybe trying to be brave—he couldn’t tell yet.
Instinctively he knew it wasn’t good.

“Can we…put this…” she gestured with her
hand back and forth between them, “…on ice?”

He could feel his face falling. She was only
in Montana for a week. The last thing he wanted to do was put
anything “on ice” where she was concerned. He sat back, turning
away from her, focusing his eyes on the terminal in front of
them.

“Can we do that?” she whispered.

No, we can’t. This is real to me. I don’t
want to slow down or, or—

The disappointment he felt almost knocked
the wind out of him; made him feel like a teenager who’d just been
refused by the girl he’d gotten up all of his courage to ask to the
prom. Lars kept his eyes down. He didn’t want her to see the hurt
there.

“I like you.” Her voice was lower and softer
when she added, “You know I do.”

She was making everything so goddamned
complicated and it didn’t need to be.

“And it’s been so great getting to know you,
but now it’s—it’s, um, time for me to go to work. I need to
concentrate on Samara and the shoot. And I need you to do whatever
it is you, you know, need to do…without feeling like you owe me
anything.”

Need
to do.
Like screw your
cousin, apparently
.

He looked at her, angry now.

“I’m not that—Aw, hell, what’s the point?
You haven’t heard a word I’ve said.” He huffed in frustration
before starting again. “I
don’t
owe you anything, Jane. But,
I felt like this”—he mimicked her hand motions back and forth
between them—“was special…was maybe the
start
of something
special.

“I’m
not
Ben Abaz, but you’re pushing
me away—pushing
this
away—for no good reason. You’re
shutting this down, but just for the record, I didn’t want to shut
it down. I wanted to give it a
chance
.” He tilted his head
to the side, and his brows furrowed as he softened his voice. He
tried one more time. “I know you’ve only known me for a couple of
days, but Jane…”

He looked at her face, which reminded him of
a mannequin—plastic and apathetic, calm and professional—and he let
his voice trail off. Her eyes didn’t water with tears, and she
didn’t flex her jaw. Her face was blank as she stared at him, void
of any of the disappointment he was feeling. At the growing ache in
his heart a painful realization manifested itself in the front and
center of his brain, blinking in neon, unable to be ignored:
She’s blowing you off, son.
He stared at her unflinching,
neutral face, feeling his own fall in disbelief, quickly followed
by a bitter realization.
This time,
you
were the park
fling, and now that her real life has arrived, it’s over.

He leaned back from her and swallowed the
lump in his throat, wanting to wince but biting the side of his
cheek instead. No. She didn’t get to see how much this hurt
him.

Suddenly he felt angry. Really angry. He
hadn’t been looking for her; he had been minding his own business.
She walked into his life with her curly hair and raspy voice, big
green eyes that couldn’t stop looking at him, and now she was
walking out. And it hurt. More than he would have ever guessed.

His words were low and hard-edged when he
finally spoke again. “You want to break this off? Fine. Don’t call
it taking a break or putting it on ice…Just call a spade a spade
and tell me you’re not interested, Jane, tell me—”

Jane’s phone buzzed loudly on her lap.

“It’s for the best,” she whispered. “She’s
here.”

CHAPTER 6

How she had managed to remain impassive in
the van was beyond her. The coping skills she had picked up as
Samara’s assistant must have been more finely tuned than she
realized, because inside, she was weeping from the pain of giving
him up and setting him free. But she knew in her heart that there
was no other way.

She had hurt him; his voice had been angry
by the end of their conversation and he had barely looked at her
since they had entered the terminal—hadn’t met her eyes even once
or said a word to her. The loss of his warm, playful teasing was
painful and she already felt raw from the chafing and aching of her
heart.
It’s for the best
, she reminded herself gently.
His anger is better than his pity or his rejection,
both of
which were practically guaranteed.

She and Lars were waiting at the end of the
escalator side by side when Jane saw Samara and Ray step onto the
top step. She fought the urge to grab Lars, kiss him with every bit
of passion and despair in her heart and tell him she was wrong—
I
don’t want a break, I want you!
—and greet her cousin with the
words, “He’s MINE. You CAN’T have him.” But, she knew that wasn’t
the smart move.

The smart move was to wait it out,
agonizingly, and see if Lars meant what he said, see if he could
possibly withstand Samara, not because he owed Jane anything, but
because it was his own personal choice. That’s the only way it
would matter. The only way she would believe it. She had to admit
her heart felt tragically, cautiously hopeful, in spite of her
speech in the car. In that small sliver of space that already
belonged to him, she desperately hoped that Lars could meet and get
to know Samara, but—somehow, somehow, somehow—return to Jane.