If Tomorrow Never Comes

Chapter Ten Jamie

Chapter Ten

Jamie

When Jamie stepped out of his apartment to let Hank out, he considered just taking him for a walk around their building to avoid the possibility of running into Elliott. Yeah, he’d felt good about everything after their talk last week, but then he’d dreamed about her. Nothing R-rated, but didn’t they say you dream about whatever you think about right before falling asleep? He didn’t remember doing that on purpose and didn’t like knowing his brain had gone rogue.

But then he decided he was being ridiculous and took Hank to the dog park like usual. It seemed a little overboard to allow Elliott’s presence to alter his routine.

On Mondays, Jamie usually hung around in the office at McCormick’s Garden Center, finishing paperwork and taking calls from clients. He didn’t mind residential jobs—a good thing since that’s where he spent most of his time—but his favorite projects were the major commercial developments. He worked with the landscape designers and architects at the Garden Center, and their team was one of the more sought after in the city for simple but eye-catching landscapes: the entrance to Henry Doorly Zoo, the gardens just to the east of Old Market next to the Missouri River, and the trees that lined much of the downtown nightlife area. Not long after he’d met Elliott, he’d done some work at the hotel where she’d stayed.

It was where they’d kissed and fallen asleep under the stars, and in those first few days after she disappeared, he’d watched for her constantly. He’d wanted to see her again so badly it hurt. One day he was so distracted watching the hotel doors he almost lost a finger to his favorite pruners.

As the weeks passed, he’d thought about her less, gave up on finding her, and had finally started to move on. And the day he’d started dating Carly again, he had told himself to stop thinking about that night and about Elliott for good. It worked 99 percent of the time, that stupid 1 percent flaring when he was back in Old Market. Memories from that night would flash through his mind, there and gone, unbidden and without forethought.

Something about Elliott lingered in his subconscious for the longest time, maybe because there’d been no closure. She hadn’t slapped him or left him with harsh words. He’d walked away from that moment still wanting her and confident she felt the same. And despite the way she’d left him on the dark sidewalk, part of him had thought he’d find her again. Like ... like it had been fate that brought them together. He’d had the most ridiculous fantasies, like he’d turn the corner at the grocery store and there she’d be, one hand on her hip as she considered the whole-bean coffee selection.

Nothing about him and Elliott had felt final. Or over. Like their connection was a physical object, suspended and frozen in time, something that wouldn’t disappear or float away. He’d shut the memory away when he’d finally decided to close the door on the possibility of ever finding her.

But now that Elliott was back, a small, unwelcome part of him wanted to peek inside that door to see: Had he truly moved on, or was it an illusion? What if everything was still there—the chemistry, the emotions, the laughter? What would he do if they resurfaced, even though he was with Carly now?

That thought disturbed him the most—the possibility that no matter how hard he’d fought against it, he might have inclinations like his father’s.

It also immediately strengthened his resolve where Elliott was concerned. He wouldn’t throw away what he had with Carly based on a single encounter from a year ago, no matter how intense his feelings had been at the time. A few hours of fun didn’t mean he and Elliott would have made it as a couple, even if she’d stayed.

Right?

He startled when his phone buzzed on the desk. God, how long had he sat here, brooding?

Blythe: ??I can’t come to dad’s party tonight, so sorry??

He groaned, and typed out ??what? Why not??? Stacy, their dad’s wife (Jamie refused to call her his stepmom, not only because she was Wife Number Four but also because she was a measly six years older than he was) was throwing his dad a party for his sixtieth birthday. Jamie wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.

Blythe: ??Holden’s sick.??

Jamie: ??Is he okay???

Blythe: ??Yeah. Nothing serious, but sick enough I don’t want to leave him. I hate to ditch you with dad and Greg.??

Jamie: ??No worries, focus on my favorite little guy. Carly’s coming with me, anyway.??

Carly was the perfect buffer at family events, especially those involving his dad. An extrovert and queen of the social scene who could make small talk with anyone, she rarely met someone she couldn’t befriend. Even, conveniently, arrogant assholes like his dad and his brother, Greg. Carly made evenings spent with that side of his family easier to swallow.

After the divorce, Jamie and his sister had gravitated more toward their mother, and to this day, Jamie would choose an evening with the women in his family over his dad and brother. But his dad was still that—his dad—and their relationship was just complicated.

In some ways Jamie held little respect for him, the first hit coming after his dad cheated on his mom. Then each accusation of infidelity from subsequent wives chipped away at what little remained. But he’d been a surprisingly supportive father through high school and college, always pushing Jamie to be his best academically and athletically. Not that he would ever ask, but if he was ever in a bind and needed money or help, his dad would do it without question. So while he kept social interactions with his dad to a minimum, Jamie figured a party for a major birthday was something he should attend.

Blythe: ??I heard Greg is bringing a new girlfriend.??

Jamie: ??Of course he is.??

Greg had followed in their dad’s footsteps in more ways than one—joining the family business and going through women faster than the cans of Axe body spray he doused himself with.

Blythe: ??Want me to call around nine with an emergency???

Jamie checked his calendar app to confirm the party started at six. There was no way he’d make it three hours.

Jamie: ??Better make it 8.??

Jamie wanted to leave almost as soon as they walked through the door.

He’d never really liked being in this house. It was the place his father had broken his mother’s heart and torn their family into halves: Dad and Greg vs. Mom, Blythe, and Jamie. Those first few years of splitting his time across two houses had sucked, and Jamie had been jealous of kids who didn’t commute between bedrooms.

The assortment of guests in attendance was ... awkward. Several of his dad’s work buddies were there, mostly older men. Some had brought their wives, some hadn’t, and the ones that hadn’t were making quick work of flirting with the other half of attendees: Stacy’s young, perky friends.

Then there was Jamie’s older brother, Greg, with a woman who looked about twelve years his junior on his arm.

Jamie blew out a breath and tightened his hold on Carly’s hand, steering her straight to the bar set up on the patio next to the pool. She’d had an early meeting at the accounting firm where she worked, so he hoped she’d want to lie low, enjoy a drink outside, and pass by his dad in, say, half an hour on their way out to wish him happy birthday.

“Carly!” Stacy rushed over, clapping her hands with a little hop. “You made it.”

Carly’s hand slipped from Jamie’s as she hugged Stacy with an equally enthusiastic greeting. In minutes, Carly was sucked in with a group of young women, giggling and talking.

He’d always admired her ability to fit in seamlessly with any crowd, even an elite, high-profile one like this. Despite being raised by a single mother who was constantly in financial straits, Carly’s natural charisma made the men feel important and the women as if she were their confidante and friend. Everyone loved her.

She hadn’t always been so extroverted. When he met her that first week of college debate class his freshman year, she’d been friendly but reserved. She’d just moved to Omaha on a scholarship to Creighton University’s accounting program, and it was clear she felt out of place in the new environment.

Then when they were assigned to debate a position on dress codes in primary education programs, he’d watched her come to life and gain confidence by arguing a topic she cared about. They’d started dating that year, and he’d watched her come further out of her shell and eventually become the center of their social group.

She’d been happy for him when he was drafted but wasn’t interested in the life associated with professional sports. He hadn’t faulted her for wanting consistency in her life, and to this day it was the most amiable breakup he’d ever had.

They’d kept in touch as friends while he was in Arkansas. When he moved back to Omaha, he occasionally saw her out and about over the next few years, but it wasn’t until a friend’s thirtieth-birthday celebration a couple of months ago that they’d ended up back at his place. The next morning while he made breakfast, she’d asked if he wanted to give it another try, and they’d been together since.

Being with Carly was familiar and effortless. His family loved her—all of them—and they mostly had the same friends. They both enjoyed their own space and still led their own lives, which suited them both.

It was hard to imagine anything better.

A familiar voice approached Jamie from behind. “Hey, bro.”

Jamie picked up his beer and considered his brother. “Hey.”

“Where’s Blythe?”

“Couldn’t make it,” Jamie said. “Holden came down with something.”

Greg’s face twisted in distaste.

God help this family if Greg ever had children. “How’s it going?”

“You know how it is. Work’s insane and Dad’s been riding my ass.”

Jamie took a long pull of his lager, unsympathetic. “You’re the one who went to work for him.”

“He pays me well.”

To Jamie, it still wasn’t worth it. He regarded the other partygoers, not interested in talking about money. “Good turnout,” he offered.

Greg chuckled. “Most of them are Stacy’s friends. I’m not complaining—she set me up with the hot brunette in yellow.”

“Lucky you,” Jamie said dryly.

“Hopefully.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“Probably wherever the food is. Kitchen, I guess.”

Jamie found his dad exactly there. It had been a few months, and his blond hair was drifting closer to white every day. Even at sixty, he was still a good-looking man and wore it like a badge of honor.

His dad clapped him on the back. “Jamie. Thanks for coming.”

“Happy Birthday, old man.”

His dad laughed. “You’ll be here before you know it.” He tipped his chin at a couple walking by. “How’s the tree business?”

“Great.”

“I always have something for you, you know. If you want a real job.”

Jamie stiffened but refused to take the bait. “Thanks, but I have one.”

His dad continued on, eyes scanning the room as he spoke. He’d always been a master at remaining in control while feigning disinterest at the same time.

Was it not exhausting? All the facades and pretending?

“Come on. You’re my son. Yard work isn’t what you were meant to do.”

“I enjoy yard work, and you know I do more than that.” He didn’t elaborate. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, and it was useless.

“And I say you’re more than that.” In a rare flash of emotion, his dad’s hazel eyes finally met his. “You were a baseball star. People couldn’t wait to see you in Royals colors. Working as a gardener was fine during offseason, but it can’t be what you want to spend your life doing. There’s nowhere to go. No way to move up.”

“Not all of us care about being at the top.”

“Bullshit. Every man has a burning desire to rule their kingdom.”

The toxic masculinity rolling off his skin was suffocating. This was exactly why Jamie avoided coming here.

Jamie took his time responding and surveyed the pristine backyard, thanks to the incredible job his team had done last year. “Now that you mention it, I think I’d better check on that kingdom. I’ll see you later, Dad. Happy birthday.”

His dad shrugged and pulled out his phone, and Jamie went back outside, regretting having come into the house in the first place. He took a deep breath of fresh air, always happier when he was outdoors.

The yard was the best part of the property, hands down.

Four mature oaks—Jamie’s favorite—stood tall and regal across the yard, casting glorious shade from their thick canopies. Last summer, his dad had considered taking two out for a water feature, and Jamie’d nearly had a stroke.

The bright-green grass surrounding the pool was thick and lush, and a stone path led to a pergola surrounded by plant life. Bushes and shrubs of varying shades of green lined the path, with flowers in brilliant purple, pink, and yellow hues arranged throughout. It was beautiful and it smelled incredible—earthy and faintly sweet. Even before the flowers had existed here, this was where Jamie had disappeared as a kid when he wanted out of the house.

He chatted with a few other people he knew and finished his beer. His brother was well on his way to drunk, and when he wandered outside and snide comments about Jamie’s failed baseball career started flying, Jamie went in search of Carly.

She smiled when he approached, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

She glanced at the full cocktail in her hand. “Oh. Already?”

“I’m pretty tired. If you’re still having fun, feel free to stay, but I’d like to head out. That okay?” They’d driven separately, both having come from work.

She glanced at the women still engrossed in animated conversation. “Sure. I think I will stay, though. I haven’t even caught up with your dad yet. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Try to keep these fools in line, okay?”

She laughed and waved him off happily, effortlessly absorbed back into the fray.

Jamie walked outside and closed the front door. He released a pent-up breath, his body loosening with each step he took toward his car.