12. Margot
CHAPTER 12
Margot
I t seems ridiculous that I am yet again waiting for a man to show up. But here I am, sitting in the foyer of the B&B, pretending to be busy, while I wait for Jaxson to walk in the door. I know he talked to Chad today.
Or, at least, he’d been planning on it.
But he hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts.
My stomach has been in knots most of the day, so the fact that we had two checkouts was a great distraction, but now the rooms are cleaned and ready for the next guests, leaving me exhausted but with no other busy work.
It’s just after dinnertime, so the door isn’t locked, but most of the guests have turned in for the evening.
Which means that I’m technically still working, right? In which case, standing here isn’t so pathetic.
The door handle begins to turn, so I quickly shift my gaze down. That way, when he does come in, he doesn’t see me staring after him. It’s not until I hear the door close again that I look up. “Hey,” I say with a smile.
Dressed in shorts, a tank top, and tennis shoes, Jaxson’s muscled body is gleaming with sweat. It’s unusual that he’d be out running this late, but based on his pink cheeks, I’d say that’s exactly what he was doing. “Hey, I’m surprised you’re still down here.”
I shrug. “Had some work to do. Want some water? Lemonade? I made a fresh pitcher today.”
“Sure.” He seems off, uncomfortable even, which only spurs my nerves further.
After pouring some glasses, I set them on the small table in the B&B’s private kitchen, then sit across from him. “Is everything okay?” I ask. “You don’t usually run at night.”
“I needed to burn off some steam. My mind can’t seem to settle with everything going on.”
“I get it. Lanetti missing is horrible. I can’t seem to get my thoughts off of what she must be going through.”
He nods but still doesn’t touch his glass. “Michael and I interviewed Chad today.”
I arch a brow. “You took my brother?”
The first crack of a smile graces his handsome face. “Yeah, I realized my mistake too late, but he handled things okay.”
“What happened? Is he the one who?—”
“No.” Jaxson shakes his head. “I’m confident he had nothing to do with Lanetti’s disappearance.”
Relief helps me relax just a little. They’re still no closer to finding her, but at least the man I’d been married to for thirteen years isn’t responsible.
“Did he drop the case?’
“What? Chad? No. Why?”
“He should. Probably tomorrow. It was kind of late when we got out of the interview room.”
"What do you mean? Why is he dropping it?”
Jaxson runs a hand over the back of his head. “I’m sorry for what he’s put you through. You and Matty both deserve better. You know that, don’t you?”
“Jaxson, what’s going on?”
“Is Matty asleep?”
“Yes. What’s going on?” Nerves churn my stomach.
“Chad was trying to get you to sell everything and buy him out. He never wanted custody of Matty, though he was planning to change the case he’d put together against you and try and take full custody under the guise of moving Matty out to LA.”
I feel the color drain from my face moments before rage floods my system. “He was going to what? ”
“He wanted you to sell this place and pay him off so he’d drop the custody charge. He didn’t think it would ever go to court because he knew if it did, he would lose anyway.”
I stare at Jaxson, completely dumbfounded by what he’s telling me. “Does he really think so little of me? That I’m stupid enough to fall for that?”
“I can’t see how he would ever think he could win that, but it was his plan. As outrageous as it was. ”
“How did Michael handle that confession? Oh, to be a fly on that wall.” I stand and head over to the cabinet to pull some fresh cookies I’d made earlier from the jar.
I feel rather than see him move in behind me.
Turning toward him, I swallow hard, abandoning the cookies on the counter behind me.
“You deserve better,” Jaxson says.
He’s mere inches from me, his hazel gaze darting down to my lips. I draw my lower one into my mouth, attraction snapping between us like electricity.
“I’m starting to believe that,” I tell him.
“Good.”
The bell on the front door rings, shattering the connection like a bucket of cold water. “Sorry.” I slip away from him and head for the front, finding a very pregnant woman on the other side of my standing desk.
“Hi!” she greets happily, offering me a wave.
“Hi, how can I help you?” I force a smile, though my insides are still like jelly after that heated moment in the kitchen. How does he make me feel that way without even a single touch?
“I hope so. I was hoping to get a room?”
“For how long?” I open up our scheduling software.
“Just tonight, if you have it available.” She rubs her hand over her stomach.
“Actually, I do. The rooms are all booked tomorrow, but tonight is available.” I smile at the look of bone-deep relief on her face.
“That’s wonderful.” She sets her bag down. “I’m exhausted these days, and the idea of trying to track down somewhere else is not appealing in the least.” The stunning, leggy brunette standing on the other side of my check-in desk looks about ready to have her baby any moment, though still manages to look effortlessly beautiful.
Her dark hair shines in the rays of sunlight streaking in from the window, and her brown eyes are such a bright caramel color I’m sure they must be contacts.
Even as it’s ridiculous, I smooth out the front of my floral dress in an effort to make myself look even a bit more put together. “Well, I remember how tired I was with my son. But you look fantastic. When are you due?”
“Five weeks,” she replies with a laugh. “And I have absolutely no idea how to get myself prepared.”
“I remember those days. What brings you here to Hope Springs?”
“I’m headed to New York tomorrow morning for a conference, and I just couldn’t bring myself to pass up the opportunity to knock Maine off of my bucket list.” She beams at me.
“I completely understand. I just need a form of ID and payment.” Smiling warmly, I wait as she digs into her purse. “Where are you coming in from?”
“Los Angeles,” she replies, then slides her ID over to me. The moment I read the first name printed on her driver’s license, my stomach turns into a pit.
“So, LA, huh?” Surely it’s just a coincidence and it’s not? —
“What are you doing here?” Jaxson demands, coming out of the kitchen.
My stomach plummets, and all hopes that Rosalie is a common name in LA are blown out like a candle.
“Jaxson. What are you doing here? I was going to come find you tomorrow.” She turns to face him, and I watch as his gaze drops to her pregnant belly and something flashes over his expression.
Pain.
“I live here,” he growls. Gone are all traces of the man I’d seen in the kitchen mere minutes ago. “Let me ask again, what are you doing here, Rosalie?”
“I told you that I wanted to talk to you.”
“And you thought showing up at the place I live is the best way to handle it?”
First his estranged father and now his ex-wife? I keep waiting for him to snap. To explode in anger and storm off, but Jaxson remains where he is, standing firmly in front of the kitchen door.
“First of all, I didn’t know you were living in a B&B, just this town. But, Jaxson, I need to talk to you.” She offers me an embarrassed smile. “Maybe we can do it somewhere more private?”
“Everything I had to say to you I said once the divorce was final. You know—the one you asked for.”
Her eyes fill and his expression softens. “Please, Jaxson. I promise you’ll never hear from me again. I won’t even stay. I’ll leave tonight and head straight to New York. I just really want to talk to you. ”
I bear witness to the fight that plays out on his face. He’s angry, that much is clear. The hurt is easy to see. Even not knowing fully what happened between them, I wouldn’t blame him for turning her away.
So when he crosses over and lifts her bag off the floor, I find myself stunned. “Fine. We can talk in my apartment.”