95. Chapter 95
Two things that had never happened to Jase, happened on the morning of the last map.
The second was riding with a woman. Last night’s drive from Saul’s to the coast was out of necessity.
Today was different. This was a lazy jaunt up Highway One without a plan beyond enjoying the scenery.
A real ride, with sunshine, ocean views, and a woman at his back in an outfit he couldn’t wait to dismantle that they bought on the way out of Santa Barbara after they realized most of Lindsey’s clothes were still in her suitcase in the back of the station wagon.
The first was waking up in a panic about waking up alone.
Opening his eyes in an empty bed in an empty room, Jase’s heart licked the back of his throat. A good woman and three million gone in a puff of pot smoke after a rough conversation and even rougher sex. Of all the nights to leave…
Then he noticed her purse on the floor. Through the whirring fan blades he found her on the porch outside their room.
Jase had never been more relieved in his entire life.
He wasn’t sure it was entirely about the money.
In Monterey in the late afternoon, Jase brought Lindsey to a quiet beach.
As soon as her feet hit the sand, she kicked off her new riding boots and socks and put her bare feet in the water.
She watched the sun spreading orange rays across the horizon as it sank, and he watched her, drawn in by the smile he’d have a hard time getting over tomorrow.
And tomorrow was coming really damn fast.
Jase didn’t know what to do about it other than grab Lindsey by the waist when she splashed him and carry her into the surf until the waves soaked the bottoms of their rolled-up jeans.
Then he set her down and kissed her. Thoroughly.
As if they could get their fill in the next few hours before the end of the last map.
Because this would end too. Just like everything else.
The death of his father severed his connection to the two women who were flip sides of the same coin: together, the perfect woman, separate, each lacking what the other possessed.
He couldn’t—if he was honest—make a life with someone as volatile as Chloe.
They’d burn out too quickly. And Denise was put together in all the best ways but had never—not once, not even close—really thrilled him.
Tomorrow the road would run out and the break with Lindsey would be clean. Leaving him wanting was better than cutting his way out of a future they didn’t have.
Women always wanted the house, the car, the kids.
The quiet life with friends and dates and a ring for the left hand.
His dad managed—at least, for a time—to bridge the gap between the road and solid ground.
He’d given up solitude, Billy, and freedom for Jase’s mother.
After a few good years he lost it all and was stuck raising two idiot boys on his own.
Still, at the end of his life, his father hadn’t pleaded for more time because Jason Young lived good and hard while he was here.
“Thank you,” Lindsey said with the sun in her eyes and the waves gently rolling over her feet. “I see why you love it.”
“What?”
“The road.”
The road—his road—wasn’t all sunsets on beaches and food from tiki bars on the ocean and kissing for no other reason than it felt good.
It was cold wind, cracked hands, bloodshot eyes, late nights, unfamiliar faces, living on the fringes of life.
Things he’d never want her to see, and places she wouldn’t want to go.
“Yeah, well, it isn’t always this nice.” He chuckled, and it sounded lighter than he suddenly felt. “Sometimes it rains.”