Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Maybe I don’t want to let you. I don’t mean the price for me. I’m trying to save you here too. I’m a bad bet for a relationship. Inevitably, I’m gonna disappoint you, not be what—who—you need.”
“I refuse to believe that.” I didn’t reach for him because I couldn’t handle it if he flinched away. Instead, I let my conviction do the reaching. When he stayed impassive, anger bubbled up, making my tone more strident. “But asking me to stand by while you take crazy risks? That’s a disappointment.”
“See?” Cal gave me a pointed stare like he’d been expecting me to reach that point the whole conversation.
“I simply don’t understand why you’re so willing to dismiss what we have.”
“I’m not. It’s…everything,” he whispered, voice broken.
“But not enough.” That much was only too clear.
“We should get back to Safe Harbor.” He pointed at the busy street out the car windows as if he could will us there, away from this conversation and heartache. That he didn’t want to fight for us was the biggest disappointment of all.
“You could be happy in Safe Harbor.” If he could be stubborn, so could I.
“Not sure I fit in that box.” He shook his head before yawning and stretching. “I’m gonna rest. No point in going round and round.”
“Yeah.” To me, there was all the point in the world, but I also didn’t want to cross from frustration and hurt into the ocean of anger that kept threatening to swamp me. “Don’t want to spoil what time we have left.”
Even as I said it, I knew it was too late for that.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cal
Monday dawned ominously, all the clear skies and perfect Sunday weather swept out by my argument with Holden and replaced by an unseasonable chill and damp wind. I’d slept in the guestroom last night and had seriously considered leaving the house after we returned from Portland, but I’d decided flouncing out with nowhere to go was a level of drama neither of us needed. Instead, I’d retreated to my room, shut the door, turned up the music in my headphones like I was sixteen and stuck at my grandparents, and proceeded to not sleep until my morning appointment at the RV dealer.
Crisp red and blue flags with white lettering fluttered in the stiff breeze, proudly proclaiming that Bud’s RVs was the place to be for deals and five-star service. Various models were adorned with helium balloons and extra signage, giving the whole place a gaudy carnival air.
I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
“You chose well.” Bud nodded up and down, heavy jowls jiggling with the effort. In truth, I’d selected the first model I’d test-driven after pointing at the nearest motorhome that looked to have sufficient storage for my gear. But if Bud wanted to believe I was a savvy customer, I wasn’t about to stop him. I let him prattle on in his tiny office inside the travel trailer that doubled as the business’s headquarters while I tried to remember how to write a paper check. “Can’t go wrong with this brand. Can’t beat the low mileage either.”
“Thanks for the deal.” I signed the check, hoping my seldom-used writing was close enough to the signature on my license. Weird, writing out that many zeros. Made me edgy. We’d quickly come to terms for the RV, a number that wouldn’t entirely deplete my reserves. I’d figured out how to transfer the donations to my checking account, and I was fairly certain the big check wouldn’t bounce.
“What’s next for you?” Bud asked, all smiles as I handed over the check. And wasn’t that the million-dollar question. I’d walked from Holden’s place rather than beg for a ride, and Knox had already insisted I take the day off to settle the RV purchase. Plumbing contractors were working on the Stapleton house this morning, so it made sense for me to stay away, even if the free time made me itchy as hell, especially with not wanting to stick around Holden’s place.
“Not sure. Guess the first stop is finding an RV park.” Actually, my first stop would be Holden’s house to collect my gear and things, but Bud didn’t need to know that. I pasted on a paper smile, brittle as ancient newsprint, not that Bud seemed to notice or care. “It’ll be nice to try it out. Having more choices of where to stay is gonna take some getting used to.”
“Head to Happy Village.” Bud gestured vaguely west of downtown Safe Harbor. “Tell them Bud sent you.”
“Sure thing.” Of course I was anything but happy by the time I rolled into Happy Village RV Resort, a few miles outside of town. Holden’s house had been blessedly empty when I’d pulled in with the RV, but the quiet had made transferring my belongings much more depressing. Funny how much space I seemed to occupy when we were both in the house, yet how little I actually had to leave with. A few bags plus my boxes of gear, and that was that.