Stray (14 page)

I didn
’t see Jon that weekend. When he brought Max back to the clinic after his PT appointment on Thursday, he seemed distracted, though pleased with the news that I had spoken to Doc and all was well on that front. I told him what Doc said, to give him a call, and Jon hugged me. He kissed me on the cheek as he left, without asking me to go to dinner with him this time.

Jon didn’t show up on Friday or Saturday, nor did he call. By Sunday, I was mad. He had what he wanted from me, I supposed, a way into Doc’s door and oh, by the way, a nice fuck as a bonus. He probably wouldn’t even be back to take Max to PT any more. I spent Sunday moping and wishing I hadn’t slept with Jon, though the memory of his touches was ingrained in my skin. So much for that ‘scratch the itch’ theory. I wasn’t cut out to have casual sex, it seemed.

I knew I had to pull myself together before Monday, so after I went to the clinic to feed and walk Max, I put on my new snow gear and went for a long hike. It was the first time I ventured out on the trails, though I’d been meaning to since arriving five weeks before. Raised in Texas, I hadn’t had much opportunity to walk on mountainsides. I had to walk slowly after my first burst of energy. Running around town at altitude I thought had conditioned me for the thin air, but going upward at a steep angle stole my breath. The air was too cold to take in great gulps of it, but pure and sweet like nothing I’d ever experienced before coming here.

I didn’t know how much ground I’d covered, and only hoped I knew my way back, but after a couple of hours, I was ready to head back. The temperature was in the mid-forties, which meant that after a few minutes’ exertion, my core was too warm in the insulated gear, though my face and hands were cold even with my gloves and a ski mask on. Next time I went shopping, I was going to have to spring for an REI membership and get some expert help with the gear I’d need to pursue this hobby comfortably.

Dinner was a bowl of canned soup. Tolerable, but still not my preferred dining experience. I really needed to start cooking for myself. Still no call from Jon, the bastard. I went to bed lonely, but energized from my hike. It was weird.

Megan greeted me with a halfway decent attitude on Monday morning, which reminded me of my campaign to butter her up.

“Good morning yourself, Megan. Hey, I’m going to run across the street for some coffee, want some?” She smiled, actually smiled!

“Yes, please. Can I have a mocha latte?”

“If Papa’s serves one, sure. What do you want if they don’t?”

“They do. It’s my favorite.”

“Okay, mocha latte it is. Just let me feed and walk Max, and then I’ll go get it.”

Twenty minutes later, the two of us were sitting companionably, having coffee together. Who would have thought it? I wondered what had put her in this new mood, but didn’t want to spoil it by asking.

“How’s Mr. Miles?” she asked, ruining my mood, but how would she know? I decided it wasn’t deliberate.

“Haven’t seen him, why?”

“Oh, I just wondered. I saw him on the slopes yesterday with Ashleigh Egren.”

“Yes, he told me he had brought her up to ski, but I didn’t know you skied.” It was the first, lame remark that came to mind after she dropped that bombshell, clearly the reason for her good mood. I reassessed her apparent attitude change. The little minx wanted to blindside me with news she thought would upset me. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.

“Is that his girlfriend? The one who called the night he brought Max in?” I thought I’d pulled off the casual, why would I be interested, remark that I meant to. Megan couldn’t keep up her sweet pretence, though. Her catty response was designed to cut deep.

“Yeah. He and Ashleigh have been an item for a long time. I think they might get married.”

Shit! She’d scored a hit, and she couldn’t have missed my shock, even as I tried to hide it and act as if it were nothing to me. Still, I tried.

“That’s nice. She’s the daughter of the CEO who runs the resort, then, right?”

“Yeah. I met her last year, when Mom and Dad took me to a big party there right after I turned eighteen. Something about shareholders. She’s really gorgeous.”

That was good news. I’d hate for beautiful Jon to be saddled with an ugly wife, meaning the opposite. What an idiot I had been! In my defense, though, I hadn’t known who he was relative to the resort, or who his girlfriend was, when he wined and dined me and then took me home and fucked my brains out.

Come to think of it, why had he risked being seen with me at a resort restaurant? Doc’s words came back to me. Playboy, of course. In wealthy circles, maybe fiancées didn’t care if their men dated and fucked other women. Maybe she’d been with a hot ski instructor.

Why was I wasting my time and burning out brain cells thinking about all of this? My fling was over, hadn’t lasted long. At least he didn’t waste four years of my life like Greg had. I could get over it.

True to my prediction, Jon didn’t show up for Max’s PT appointment that afternoon, so I was free to go to Doc’s for my regular allergy shot. I should have known he’d be perceptive enough to pick up on my funk.

“What’s wrong, sis?” he asked, before even having me bare my arm for the shot.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t try to bullshit a bullshitter. Give me your arm, let’s get this done. And then you’re going to tell me, so you might as well start picking your words.”

I smiled faintly. The crusty old bachelor was a dear. Too bad he was thirty or more years older than me. I’d do him. Shocked but amused at my thought, I held out my arm, and Doc arranged it on the desk-like arm of the chair. A quick sting, and then he was rolling my sleeve down.

“Now, what’s bothering you, and you may not say ‘nothing’,” he demanded.

“Doc, I’m a fool, is all. When we talked the other day, about Jon Miles?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d already slept with him. Thought if I did it once, I’d get him out of my thoughts. Boy, did that backfire!”

“Want me to have a talk with him? We’re supposed to meet up for a drink tomorrow night.”

“Hell, no! I just want to forget about him and move on, but it takes a minute, you know? He was so…well, let’s just say I enjoyed my time with him. I’m bummed it’s over, but I’ll get over it. Just give me some time.”

“You’re a smart girl, sis. That’s best, I’d say. Besides, from what I hear, he’s busier than a nine-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

The image startled a bark of a laugh out of me, and I left in a better mood than the one I’d come in with. Home to my lonely apartment I’d go, and maybe even cook a decent dinner, if I had anything to cook. Maybe I could borrow one of Mrs. P’s cats to snuggle with for comfort for a while. Before going home, I stopped by the closed clinic to feed Max his delayed dinner and take him out for his last walk of the night.

Max whined when he saw me. I guessed that he was missing Jon, too. The beautiful Golden was really beginning to look good, putting on some weight. His coat was shiny and brushed. I put my arms around him and held on for dear life, whispering to him that Jon wasn’t worth our tears.

It had been a busy day at the clinic on Tuesday. I
’d made a house call for a basset hound who was having trouble delivering her puppies, and by the time I got back the waiting room was full of both walk-ins and people whose appointments had been delayed by the emergency. By around three, I was almost caught up, but at the expense of skipping my lunch. Being hungry always put me in a foul mood, and besides I didn’t expect Jon to show up after all this time.

When he stepped into the boarding area, I was literally torn in two. He looked amazing as always, taking my breath away. I was angry, too, with all the righteous indignation of a lover spurned and an animal-lover facing someone who’d hurt and betrayed an innocent dog. The physical attraction spurred my anger as well. He had no right to come in here looking that sexy and turn my life upside down. Without thinking, I snarled at him. “Where were you yesterday.”

The surprise and hurt on his face both satisfied my bitchy side and made my heart go out to him against my will. I steeled myself to do battle, but his answer wasn’t angry.

“Oh, shit, I didn’t tell you after all, did I? The therapist wasn’t available yesterday, so Max’s appointment is this afternoon. Is that okay? Did I screw anything up?”

Only my head and my heart, nothing important. But I didn’t say it. With an effort to be more civil, I answered.

“Oh. Well, no, you didn’t tell me, but I guess it’s fine for you to take him today.”

“You don’t have plans that I’ll mess up by bringing him back after hours?”

“No plans. Just the usual. Heat up a frozen meal and watch TV.” I didn’t mean to sound so pitiable, so when his face changed, I got angry again. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you back here at six? The usual time?”

“Perfect,” he said. “Erin, I’m…”

“Don’t. I’m just in a bad mood because of a long day, don’t pay any attention to me.” If I could have turned the time back and started this entire encounter over again, I would’ve. I didn’t want him to know he’d gotten under my skin, especially if that one night was all he wanted. In fact, the sooner I got him out of the clinic, the better. Maybe then I could collect my thoughts and try to behave normally.

“Sorry you’re having a bad day. Would it help if we grabbed a quick bite when I get back? I have a date with Doc McGraw for drinks at eight, but that should give us plenty of time.”

“I don’t know, Jon.”

“Come on. It’s been too long since I saw you, and I want to make it up to you. Please?”

It was tempting, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about Jon at the moment. I certainly didn’t want to be put in the position of having an argument with him in public, but sooner or later we were going to have to discuss the girlfriend he was talking to the night he brought Max in, Ashleigh. Then an idea came to me.

“Why don’t I cook? We can have a quick dinner, you’ll get to your appointment with Doc, and I won’t have to get dressed up to go to a fancy restaurant,” I concluded with a laugh.

“It’s a deal. I’ll bring wine, what are you cooking?”

“How does pasta Bolognese sound? I’m afraid it’ll have to be sauce from a jar, but I’ll doctor it up to taste homemade.”

“Sounds wonderful. I’ll see you at six, then, but I’d better get going or Max here will miss his appointment.”

When he’d gone, Megan came in to talk with me.

“What is it with you two? Have you fucked him?”

She couldn’t have shocked me any more if she’d slapped me. It took a minute to find my breath, and my voice.

“That’s a very impertinent question, Megan, and the answer is none of your business. But I’d like to know why you asked it.”

“You did, then. I asked because a friend of mine told me that she saw him and Ashleigh Egren having a big fight at the bottom of the slope. People had to ski around them. She was yelling at him for fucking you. Wish I’d caught that, it was epic my friend said.”

“You shouldn’t listen to gossip, Megan, much less repeat it.”

She sashayed out of the room with a smug grin on her face, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of an answer, either way. I was, however, going to confront Jon. Was he or wasn’t he still seeing this woman? And did he or didn’t he tell her we’d slept together? Or was Doc McGraw the one telling tales out of school? I was mortified that I’d told him myself. Maybe Jon had reason to be angry with me.

At five I rushed out of the clinic, raced to the small local grocery for the makings for a salad, and counted it lucky to also find fresh-baked Italian bread that I could use to make garlic bread. I wouldn’t have touched garlic bread if I’d thought there would be fun and games later, but I doubted this meal was going to be fun with what I had to say to Jon.

I got home just in time to brown the meat, dump in the sauce and add some diced carrots, celery and onion, along with bay leaves and a bit of ground thyme. I left the whole thing simmering on low while I changed into fresh clothes, not bothering to pick sexy ones. Then it was time to get back to the clinic to meet Jon.

He was getting Max out of his car when I drove up and parked behind him.

“Good timing,” he said, smiling. That was when he saw my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Let’s talk about it later. I need to get Max settled and get back before the sauce burns, okay?”

“Sure,” he said, still puzzled but attempting to smooth the frown. “He did great today. The therapist wants to know when you’ll get new x-rays.”

“Another week. I’m thinking every two weeks for a while.”

“How often should I have him groomed?”

“Jon, you don’t need to do that. I’ll take care of it. I just didn’t have time to get it done before the first time you took him.”

“It’s no trouble. I want to do it, you have enough to do.”

“About every six to twelve weeks for a Golden,” I said. “But he needs to be brushed often. It’ll be a while before you need to worry about grooming again.”

As we talked, we’d let Max have his walk in the back and then settled him into his kennel. It was getting harder and harder to face those sad eyes when I left every night, but I knew he’d be okay. In as little as ten more weeks, he could be frolicking with a new forever family. An ad in the local weekly paper hadn’t turned up an owner, but I hadn’t expected it to. Max had clearly been on the street for a while before Jon hit him. Maybe it was a stroke of luck after all, since Jon was taking responsibility for getting him the best of care.

It was almost a metaphor for the man himself. Cocky, arrogant, careless bastard hits dog or hits on girl, but then shows a different, caring side. I’d changed my mind about him so often that I felt like a weather vane, turning first one way and then another as not only his behavior but what I learned about him changed. I needed to heed my own advice and stop listening to gossip. But then, how would I know if he was just toying with me, like Greg had?

~*~

“Smells delicious,” Jon said as soon as we’d walked in the door. I thought it smelled like the sauce was getting a little too done, so I told him to make himself comfortable and ran for the stove. A little stirring put the sauce to rights, but it was done. Time to cook the pasta. I set a large pot of water on the stove to boil, then turned back to Jon.

He’d set two bottles of an Italian barbera on the counter, and once he had my attention again, offered to open one. I found the corkscrew and two stemmed glasses and gladly accepted the deep red liquid courage. Setting the table, heating the bread with a smear of garlic butter and preparing the simple salad used the few minutes before the pasta was ready. In just a few minutes, we were seated at the table and Jon was topping off my wine.

“This looks and smells fantastic,” he said. “I don’t know how long it’s been since I had a home-cooked meal.”

“Don’t get too excited, I’m no gourmet cook,” I returned.

By that time his mouth was full of a large bite of pasta and sauce, so his reply was a muffled, “Mmmm.”

I wasn’t sure when I should confront him. He was enjoying his meal, and no matter how you looked at it, what I had to say would put an end to that. Should I let him finish first? Or would that give him the wrong idea so that when I did speak up, he’d feel attacked? In the end, simple courtesy demanded that I leave the hard conversation for later, even it if meant that we wouldn’t finish it before he had to meet Doc McGraw.

I picked at my food, too dispirited to enjoy it as he was. The wine went down fast, though. As Jon helped himself to his second serving of garlic bread, he noticed that I wasn’t eating much.

“Erin, I’ve had the feeling all day that something was wrong. I still feel that way. Please tell me. Is it something I’ve done?”

There, the perfect opening, and I’d had enough wine by now to make it easy. “I don’t know, Jon. I don’t know what you’ve done, or not done. Tell me about your girlfriend.”

I’d swear his face went white. My heart sunk. He was going to tell me he’d been having a fling with me on the side, a casual fuck because I was there and it came with the territory of seeing to the dog.

“It’s complicated,” he said.

“Oh, please, try to be a little more original,” I snapped. “Are you or are you not cheating on your girlfriend with me? Because, I need to know. I’m not the type to share, and I don’t appreciate it if that’s what’s going on.”

“She’s... Shit. It sounds bad, Erin, but please hear me out.”

I thought I knew what was coming. ‘She doesn’t understand me, but she’s fragile. Just give me some time to end it, let her down gently.’ The same cowardly phrases that cheating men have been uttering for all time. I’d started with a slow burn, but it was rapidly becoming a flame. With little ammunition, because I’d known him for what, a week and a half, I kept my lips pressed together with effort.

“She doesn’t mean anything to me but a means to an end, Erin. I swear that. And the end is almost ready. You know about my bid to take over the resort. She’s part of it, a distraction for her dad, who’s the current CEO.”

“So, you think it’s okay for you to be using her and seeing me on the side, is that what you’re saying?” I’d thought to say it calmly, but the sarcasm fairly dripped from each word.

“No, it’s not okay, and I’m ashamed of doing it, but…”

“Ashamed of what, using her or seeing me on the side?”

“Erin, you came out of nowhere. I couldn’t have foreseen the fact of you, the attraction I feel for you. Believe me, I’ve been trying to end it with Ashleigh, but the woman is irrational. It’s you I want, not her. I mean, you and I barely know each other, but I get excited every time I know I’ll be seeing you. I love being with you. Please, give me a chance to get things straight with the resort and with Ashleigh, and then let’s see where this goes.”

God help me, a flicker of hope bloomed inside my chest, right where the anger had been only seconds before. It was crazy, stupid, completely irresponsible, but like many an ‘other’ woman before me, I chose to believe him, even while knowing it was probably a line. I had to face the fact that I’d probably fall for the devil himself if he had Jon’s attributes.

“You’re breaking up with her?”

“Already have. I never want to see her again.”

“Don’t hurt me, Jon, I don’t think I could take it again.”

“I’d never hurt you, love.” Jon got up and came to me, taking our wineglasses both in one hand by the stems and my hand in his other. I told my better judgment and my conscience to take a hike as he led me down the hall to my bedroom. When he set the wineglasses down gently on the nightstand and took me into his arms, I sent my logical brain to a dark corner, too, leaving me with only my feelings and the sensation of his hand stroking my back through my blouse.