Chapter 15
Thanks for the Good Time
Tara
Sunlight finally broke through the clouds—too bright after a long, dark morning.
I woke to thunder rattling the windows, and for a heartbeat I thought it was the sound of Isaac coming through the bedroom door.
It was too early for visitors. That never stopped him before.
He left when I told him to leave, disappearing into midnight with the roar of his bike. Then, he was back before the sun had time to rise.
I liked it more than I should have.
But as I fixed myself a cup of cheap coffee, standing on the rain-soaked porch, a slash of grief cut through me.
I couldn’t stay here indefinitely, getting swept up in some small town daydream.
This wasn’t that kind of town. And I wasn’t that kind of girl.
At least, not anymore.
I had to dream bigger, or I might end up stuck with another man that only cared about what he could take from me.
I sipped the last of my coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste. The cool air followed me inside.
Port O’Henry—and Isaac—were only temporary.
My hand hovered over the frying pan, a cracked egg shell between my fingers.
I never made Isaac breakfast. That never stopped him from standing in the kitchen while I ate, stealing forkfuls off my plate and smiling when I pretended to stab him with it.
He made himself at home in my space. I got too comfortable with it.
Any minute now, he’d walk through the front door. I even left it unlocked for him. His hair would be rain soaked, his shirt wet as he peeled it off his chest.
Don’t pack too quickly.
The toaster popped, startling me from my thoughts.
Breakfast was cooling on the table, and the front door was still solidly shut.
By ten AM I had my suitcase on the bed, carefully folding clean clothes for the second time. Repacking slowly. Optimistically.
By noon, my optimism was gone. Check out was at one. Isaac knew that.
I remembered the way he left me yesterday. Fumbling for an excuse to be anywhere but here.
I could blame it on the phone call with Jay. Isaac’s care-free mood evaporated so quickly I could practically see steam rising off him.
Or I could admit that I just wasn’t cut out for casual.
Isaac, on the other hand… He had no intention of saying goodbye. Why would he, when he already got what he wanted from me?
That didn’t stop me from dialing the number for the rental management company anyway.
“Coastal Cottages Rental Service.”
“Hi! My name is Tara. I’m renting the Beech cottage here in town.”
“Miss Tara, what can I do you for? Did you need help with the lockbox for your key?”
“Actually, I was wondering if I could have a late checkout? I know it’s last minute, but I was expecting someone and they’re running late.”
His sigh whooshed through the phone. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Sometimes I can be accommodating with these things, but the owner personally blocked time off for the month of November, and I can’t say I know when he’s arriving.”
“The owner?”
Isaac.
The owner was Isaac.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“Thanks for your stay with us! Give me a call if you’re ever out this way again. I’m happy to give discounted rates to our regulars. Have a great day ma’am!”
I pressed the red button on my phone screen, sinking onto the bed beside my packed suitcase.
Isaac blocked the reservation.
Starting today.
Anger flushed up my neck. My ears began to ring. I tossed my phone onto the covers, pacing the bedroom rug.
That asshole. That absolute selfish prick.
He didn’t want to say goodbye? Fine. But this? This was a whole new level of asshole-ishness.
I clenched my teeth. Unclipped and re-clipped my hair with a claw clip.
I had half a mind to call the rental place back and demand his number. To become such a disgruntled customer that he couldn’t ignore me.
Why?
I paused at the edge of the rug, my toe sliding over the tassels.
This is what you wanted.
A strange calm washed over me. Numb. Flat.
Right. I had things to do.
I snatched a piece of paper from a drawer in the kitchen, scribbling out a quick note and leaving it on the counter.
That same empty feeling pressed on my chest as I loaded my suitcase into the trunk of my car. I barely felt the cool press of buttons as I opened the lockbox and stuck the key inside. I didn’t look over my shoulder as I walked down the porch steps for the last time.