Chapter Eleven Jamie
Chapter Eleven
Jamie
Three months after Jamie adopted Hank, he’d signed him up for obedience school. Most days he’d say it was the best money he had ever spent, because Hank generally listened and had decent manners.
Except, apparently, when it came to Elliott Holland.
It was Tuesday evening, and he’d just let Hank out of the dog park. When other dogs were around, Jamie usually leashed Hank. But there’d only been one other person there, and their pet was still frolicking inside the enclosure. Hank was good about sticking close to Jamie’s side.
Which is why it caught him off guard when his dog took off like a shot across the knoll, nearly knocking a woman off her feet as she came up the sidewalk. Jamie took off after him, apologizing profusely as he approached.
He huffed out a half laugh when he found Elliott kneeling and grinning at Hank as he rolled onto his back and offered his belly, tail sweeping the ground.
“Come on, man.” He glanced down at Elliott. “Sorry. He’s shameless.”
She chuckled and rubbed her hand up and down Hank’s fur, completely unbothered. “I love it. My parents have a German shepherd back home, and I miss him.”
He remembered. But it seemed like a good idea not to mention he could recall with distressing clarity every single thing she’d said to him that night.
“One introduction and Hank already misses you, apparently. He doesn’t normally run off on me like that.”
She murmured something to Hank he couldn’t make out, and Jamie stood there for a moment, then took a step sideways and leaned his back against the wall of her building. The sun was slowly making its descent past the horizon, cooling the heat and shifting daylight to something softer.
“So how are you settling in?” he asked. “To Omaha, I mean?”
“Pretty good, I think. It’s bigger than Lincoln, but it doesn’t really feel that different. Starbucks is actually a really fun job, and I’ve been working on some designs for your sister. I really hope she likes what I come up with.”
“She will.” The only thing that got his sister worked up was the food itself. She’d never been too picky about things like design and marketing, and even if she was, the little he knew about Elliott told him she wouldn’t half-ass the work she did.
Elliott nodded but kept her eyes on Hank so he couldn’t read her expression. “There are a few things I’m still trying to figure out around here and there, though.”
“Yeah? Like what?” Maybe he could help.
She glanced up, gray eyes meeting his. “Okay, like where’s a good place to buy local art? My best friend came to visit over the weekend and shamed me for my bare walls. We took a trip to Home Goods, but those warehouse stores just aren’t my thing. Shopping small is. I’d rather find something one of a kind and support a local artist if I can.”
“Quick tip? Don’t let Blythe hear you trash-talk Home Goods. I’m pretty sure the last time I babysat so she and her husband could go on a date, that’s where they went. They were there so long they barely had time to hit a taco truck and eat in the car on the way home.”
“She’s a small business owner!”
“Sure, but where else can you buy a bohemian-style painting, gourmet pasta, and four dog beds at the same time?”
“Costco?”
He cocked his head. “Isn’t Costco just as bad as Home Goods?”
Her shoulders fell. “Well, yeah.”
He laughed, feeling a little unbalanced at the smile on her face. “Well, you’re in luck, because there’s a pretty great art scene around here.” His mom was really into that scene and had even dragged him along for some painting classes a couple of years ago (he was worse than terrible). “If you’re looking for high-end stuff, Old Market has several galleries. For more of the underground scene, check out Dundee or the Blackstone District. There’s a creative co-op in Dundee that has lots of booths for local folks.”
His mom knew the owner of the co-op and sometimes helped out on the weekends, and he hoped Elliott and his mom didn’t cross paths. It wouldn’t be wise to invite any additional connections with her, especially not after he’d heard from Blythe after their consultation.
Unsurprisingly, his sister had really liked her.
What would she say if she knew Elliott was the woman he’d met last year? His sister was the only person he’d told about that night, and after declaring she’d “never seen him like this over a girl,” she’d become an amateur detective, scouring the internet for any information on a woman from Lincoln named May. With only that to go off, and the fact May had actually been Elliott’s middle name, Blythe had come up empty-handed.
Eventually, like Jamie, Blythe gave up hope of ever finding her.
“Oh, great. Hang on—let me write that down.” Hank sat up when Elliott paused her ministrations to reach for her phone and open the Notes app.
When she finished and looked up, he asked, “What else?”
“Know any good places to go running?”
A memory flashed through his brain: a dimly lit street, a warm breeze, and his hand wrapped around hers as they walked.
Sometimes I go for a run when I need to get out of my head.
Yeah? Me too.
He cleared his throat, shifting his attention to Hank, who’d set his paw on Elliott’s knee. “The Keystone and Riverfront trails are pretty popular. Lake Zorinsky, too. I wouldn’t recommend going alone when it’s dark, though. If you ever want to, you’d be welcome to take Hank with you.” Hank perked up at his name.
“Really?”
“Sure, he loves running. I take him a few times a week. He knows to stay at your side and not veer off or get caught under your feet. And even though he’s just a big baby, he looks scary enough.” Elliott wasn’t his to protect, but growing up with a sister and, for much of his life, a single mom, his defensive instincts ran pretty deep. If she wanted him, he’d lend her Hank anytime she asked.
“Never hurts,” Elliott agreed. “My dad was always trying to get me to take Dodger with me when I ran, too.” She tipped her head toward his legs, one foot crossed over the other. “It must be nice to be a giant and not have to worry about people picking on you.”
“I’m not a giant .” Six-three was tall, but not that tall. “Seriously, though, just let me know if you want to take him. Anytime.”
“Thanks,” she murmured.
A long moment passed before she gave Hank a final pat and stood, as if she was about to head inside.
He should have leashed Hank, said a polite goodbye, and walked away. But that damned memory lingered. Reminding him of everything they’d talked about and how much they had in common.
I always have a book with me.
“Read any good books lately?” he blurted.
Something indecipherable flashed across her features as her eyes went wide and a pink flush spread up her neck.
His brows raised. “Wow, whatever it is, I definitely need to check it out.”
Her expression wiped clean. “It’s nothing.”
“No way—now I’m intrigued. You have to tell me.” He had to know what put that look on her face. “I once read a book that involved mutant hedgehogs in space, so it’ll be hard to shock me.”
She folded her arms and scrunched her nose, regarding him for a long moment. Finally, she said, “Promise you won’t make a thing out of it?”
“I promise,” he said, even though he had no idea if he’d keep it.
“I sort of got you a book.”
She . . . what? “What?”
“God, this sounds ridiculous.” She shook her head, rubbing at her forehead. “Honestly, I’d completely forgotten about it, but I came across it during the move. I bought it months ago when I was still living in Lincoln. I was at a bookstore, and something caught my eye that made me think of you and something we talked about ... um, the night we met. I bought it just in case I ever ran into you.”
“Really?” He took in a long breath as a light pressure settled on his chest. “What was it?”
Her lashes brushed her lightly freckled cheek as she looked down. “I, um ... I have it here. But I’m not sure I should give it to you.”
“Why not? It’s just a book.”
“I don’t know. If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t want another woman giving him a gift.”
She had a point. “Right. Good call.”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”
He slid his hands into his pockets and smiled, hoping to ease the concern wrinkling her forehead. “No big deal. But can I at least see it?”
“You just said . . . ?”
“I just want to look at it. I’m curious what subject would make a virtual stranger think of me. I’ll give it back.”
Their gazes collided, and she searched his face for what seemed like forever. She chewed on her lower lip. “I guess that would be okay. But you can’t keep it.”
“Deal.”
He dropped onto the grass beside Hank while she slipped inside the building. He’d half convinced himself to get up and leave—because what was he doing?—when she returned with a large hardcover book. She handed it to him and sat down facing him. He caught a whiff of citrus that he hadn’t noticed earlier as he regarded the cover.
The Big Book of Pies . He flipped open the cover and noticed a bright-pink sticky note jutting from the top, marking a page about halfway through. He felt Elliott’s gaze on him as he went there.
As soon as he processed what he was looking at, he barked out a laugh. Hank lifted his head and eyed him warily while Elliott just grinned, a hint of satisfaction in her eyes.
Once he had his breath back, he handed the book back to her. “This doesn’t prove anything.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “It’s a recipe for cheesecake.” She held it up so the cover was visible. “In a book of pies .”
“The author clearly didn’t do their research.”
She regarded him for a moment. “You’ll never let it go, will you?”
“Me? You’re the one who planned to prove me wrong the second you saw me again.” The pleasure he felt in the fact she’d thought about him—enough to bring something with her to Omaha—filled him with joy and discomfort. “I think you’re the competitive one, here.”
“If you’re not competitive, admit it’s a pie.”
“Absolutely not. It’s a tart.”
“You’re impossible.”
Yeah, Blythe had said the same thing once or five times.
He just shrugged. “If by ‘impossible’ you mean right, then yes.”
??Can I come over???
Jamie sent the text within minutes of returning to his apartment. Half an hour later, he was on his sister’s back porch with a beer in his hand.
Blythe reclined on a deck chair, hands folded behind her head as she gazed at the stars flickering in the darkened sky, patiently waiting for him to say what was on his mind.
They’d done this more times than he could count, though sometimes their roles were reversed.
He released a long, slow breath. “Do you ever wonder why Dad and Greg are the way they are?”
“No. I hardly think about them at all.”
Apparently she didn’t share his fear of turning into them. “Must be nice.”
“They’re driven by loyalty only to themselves. I can’t tell if it’s in the hope of achieving some illustrious social status or about feeling powerful. Maybe both. All I know is, I’m glad I fell under Mom’s influence. That we both did.”
“What if we didn’t, though? Not completely? What if some sliver of Dad’s asshole tendency is buried somewhere?”
“Jamie.” She frowned. “Even on your worst day, you’re not like him. Like either of them.”
Most days, he’d agree with her. Not because he was some perfect moral specimen, but because he’d worked damned hard toward becoming a man of strong character. To the best of his ability, he’d surrounded himself with people he respected and wanted to emulate, like his mom and high school baseball coach. He made mistakes just like everyone else but reflected back and tried to learn from them. His mom had encouraged self-discipline and held him accountable for his actions, expectations he’d carried forward for himself into adulthood.
In his eyes, honesty and integrity were as close to godliness as a person could get.
Which was why the emotional roller coaster he’d been on since Elliott had arrived left him feeling so unsteady.
Maybe he’d never really been tempted before.
“How did you know Jake was the man you wanted to marry?”
When she didn’t reply right away, he glanced over at her. She eyed him curiously, as if trying to piece together how the two questions were connected. “Everything was different with him. Better and brighter. After that first date I found myself wanting to be with him, no matter what I was doing. Even mundane errands were better if he was with me. I loved the way he saw the world and how he helped me see it in a new way.”
The Why? would come soon. She’d try to get to the bottom of why he was asking these questions at some point ... but until she forced it out of him, he wasn’t going there. He didn’t even have a full grasp on it himself.
His thoughts and feelings were a shit show.
“Have you ever been interested in another man? Since you realized you felt that way about Jake?”
If the question caught her off guard, she didn’t let it show. “Define ‘been interested.’”
He almost said I can’t , because the whole reason he’d come over was to try to figure out where that line was. But he tried for a broad definition to see what she’d do with it. “Interested in getting to know more about them, I guess. Enjoyed talking to them.”
She shrugged. “Sure. There was this one night Jake and I went to a bar in Dundee. It was a slow night, so we talked to the bartender for like two hours. The guy had this fascinating life—he’d lived on a boat and made his way through Europe with just a backpack. He was young and super hot. I had a blast, hearing his stories. He was friendly, funny, and passionate about travel and was about to leave on another adventure. I haven’t seen him since, and sometimes I think about him and wonder how he’s doing and if he’s achieved everything he wanted to.”
Jamie turned that over in his mind. Was that all this was with Elliott? She was interesting, young, friendly. He definitely found her attractive. She’d been dealt a shitty hand in a lot of ways but still had a lot she wanted to achieve. And the more he learned about her, the more inspired he became.
Was it okay for him to acknowledge those things and think about her sometimes? To wonder if she’d ever get everything she wanted?
Wonder who would give it to her?
“Are these questions ... theoretical?” his sister asked carefully.
He took a deep pull from his beer. “There’s a woman I met. Recently.” A partial lie. “She’s ... different from anyone I’ve ever met.” The word felt dangerous, especially with the way Blythe had just used it to describe Jake. But it felt like the only thing that fit. “She’s a cool person and I like talking to her. We have a lot in common. She’s attractive.”
“Have you . . . ?” Blythe trailed off meaningfully.
“God, no. I haven’t cheated, or anything close to it. After watching Dad’s and Greg’s behavior all my life, I’d never do that. But I guess I also want to be extra careful about anything leading up to it. Men and women coexist platonically all the time. I’ve done it, too. I have women friends and have had no issues maintaining those during the times I’ve been in a relationship. But this woman ... Something feels different when I’m around her.”
“Different from what? How you feel about Carly? And by ‘different,’ do you mean better?”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. That’s what troubled him the most.
“Is she interested in you?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know.” There’d been a moment, that night at The Patriarch, when her body crashed up against him, and for a split second everything stopped. He’d cycled through surprise, confusion, then recognition.
And the way she’d looked at him ...
Shock, but also something like relief. Like he was something she’d been searching for.
Then Carly had walked up, and nothing even close to that had happened again. Elliott had been polite and friendly, if a bit reserved, around him. She paid him the same level of interest someone might pay a distant acquaintance while standing in line at Trader Joe’s.
Which, really, was how it should be.
“How much time have you spent with her?”
“Not much.” Even if it felt like he’d known her for years. He considered telling Blythe who Elliott was, but it seemed pointless, and he didn’t want to make things weird for Elliott or his sister as they began working together.
“It was instant, then? This feeling?”
He didn’t answer her right away, wanting to stay away from the first time he’d met Elliott. Away from thinking about it, let alone talking about it. It wasn’t what happened that night that was the problem, anyway. He’d been single then. It was the way his body reacted now anytime she was near. “Yeah, it was.” It is. “How am I supposed to know if this is just a passing interest in something new and unexpected or something bigger? Something I need to address in my relationship with Carly?”
Was the fact he was even asking himself that question a sign something was amiss, either in his moral compass or in his relationship with Carly? “Is it wishful thinking to hope I’ll never notice another woman when I’m in a relationship? When I’m married someday?”
“Yes.” Blythe sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the chair, resting her elbows on her knees. Her eyes were pointed but kind, without a trace of judgment. “There are hundreds of thousands of people in this town. You’ll come across some your own age who are easy on the eyes and have good personalities, and there’s nothing wrong with forming connections and friendships with other people. I think when things become risky is if you find yourself wishing you’d rather be with them than with Carly. At no point during that encounter with the bartender did I wish he and Jake could switch places. I had no interest in going home with anyone but my husband. On the contrary, I couldn’t wait to get in the car and talk to Jake more about that guy—get his take on what that life might be like.”
Jamie set the bottle on the deck and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t wish he could be with Elliott instead of Carly, did he? Frankly, he’d flat-out refused to let his mind go there. Emotions rose when he was around Elliott that he immediately forced down. What would happen if he acknowledged and examined them? Maybe they wouldn’t be as bad as he thought, and he’d quickly shift back to his comfort zone with Carly, confident their relationship was right.
It was the alternative that prevented him from doing so. What if he wanted something else instead? What if, instead of comfortable, he leaned into the unrestrained side of possibility?
“If I’m being honest, I’ve never understood you and Carly together. I love you both separately, but I don’t get you together. You two have never seemed—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted. “I don’t need that right now.”
Blythe held up her hands. “Okay.”
“I just ... I’ve always been so careful not to be like Dad. But he crosses the clear line of infidelity. It feels like there’s a lot of gray area up to that point, and I don’t even want to step foot into that phase, either.”
“There is a lot of gray area,” Blythe agreed. “And that line is different for each couple, which is where communication comes in. I remember a few years ago when Jake and I were first dating, I came across him having lunch with a woman I didn’t recognize. It was a nice restaurant, and they looked pretty cozy sitting in that corner, smiling and laughing. I didn’t say anything in the moment, but I stewed over it all afternoon, wondering why they were together, why they looked so close, and why he hadn’t told me about her. Turned out it was a business partner he’d had for years, and they’d had a standing lunch at that exact spot for ages, well before he and I had even met. Nothing was, or ever had been, going on between them, and he invited me to their next lunch so I could meet her.
“I was embarrassed, but when I really thought about it, it was the assumed secrecy that had bothered me so much. We talked everything out, and because Jake works with a lot of women and has women friends, we figured out that being open about his interactions with them is how I’d always feel safe in our relationship. I feel included. If I found out he was intentionally keeping interactions with other women from me, that’s where it crosses my line and the trust I have in our relationship.”
He hadn’t needed his sister to confirm that lying to Carly about knowing Elliott was wrong, but her words still hit him square in the chest. Not coming clean right away made this whole thing worse.
“Have you talked to Carly about it?”
He sure as hell should have by now. “I was trying to figure out if this is big enough to even bring up,” he hedged. “I guess I keep hoping it will pass.”
Blythe leaned back on her hands. “I’m not saying this specifically about you and Carly, okay? But don’t forget you’re in the dating phase, which involves commitment, yes, but also the understanding that something might alter the course. A major life event, a career move.” She paused. “Another person. You’re allowed to change your mind. Don’t be so worried about turning into Dad that you force yourself to stay in something that isn’t right.”
“I’m not doing that.”
She just regarded him in that quiet, watchful way she sometimes did. He hated it. “Okay.”
He closed his eyes. Grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he whispered.
“I know.” Her next words were soft, gentle. “But sometimes ignoring something makes it more painful in the long run.”
He blew out a breath and stood, then gathered both their bottles. He quietly slipped into the house to toss them and returned.
She was on her feet now, too, and gave him a quick hug. “I’m glad you came over. Even if I’m not sure how helpful I was.”
“I’m not sure, either,” he said, and in a rare show of grace, she ignored him.
“I could be off the mark, but just in case I’m not ... I think you need to start here.” She put her hand on his chest. “You’re so worried about everyone else and what they might think. It’s not a bad thing, because yeah, you might need to have a conversation with Carly, or this woman, or both. But it won’t do you any good until you know what’s going on first in your head. You’ve gotta figure out what you’re feeling. You can’t have an honest, worthwhile conversation with someone else if you haven’t been truthful with yourself.”
And with those words, for the first time in forever, Jamie left his sister’s house even more conflicted than when he’d arrived.