Appease Clifton were the first words that came to mind. Make a deal with him. Negotiate. Do whatever you need to in order to keep the boys close.
Her fingers tightened on the papers Clifton had sent. She’d tried calling him, tried to find a way to work this out, but he wasn’t taking her calls.
Now that he’d lobbed the arrow, and she was considering rearranging her whole life, moving to Atlanta to allow him to see the boys more often, he was hiding. The same way he had when she’d found out he was cheating on her.
Her phone buzzed, turning her red, puffy eyes to note a voice mail message from Hank Cotton, her former boss.
Grabbing a tissue, she put the phone to her ear. “Emmaline, Hank Cotton here. I think I might have found you an opening at my brother’s firm. He’s willing to interview you Friday morning, if you can make the trip. On one last note, Plum Orchard is losin’ one of its finest. Best to you always, Emmaline.”
Em grabbed a pen and took down the information and tucked it into her purse, relief flooding her.
Now she just had to get out of her pajamas and pack a bag and speak to her mother.
And find the courage to let go.
Two deep breaths later and she was on her feet when the pounding on her door began.
*
“Emmaline, damn it, open this door!” Jax yelled, giving little to no shit that Em’s neighbor Arlo was peeking out of his window.
The hell with the busybodies of this town. He didn’t care if they saw him at her house. He didn’t care if they talked. Let ’em. Let ’em come for Em while he was around.
No one had seen Em for two days due to her alleged flu, but something wasn’t sitting right with him. Couldn’t put his finger on it, but something wasn’t right. She’d ignored every text, every phone call he’d made, and if Em was nothing else, she was polite.
Completely ignoring him didn’t fit her character.
If it was really over between them, he wanted her to say it to his face. He wanted to hear the words, see her when she spoke them.
Fuck, he just wanted to see her.
Because it wasn’t over for him. He had apologizing to do—explaining to do. He had to tell her he was falling in love with her. Even if she rejected him, he was going to say it anyway. Because he didn’t want to miss the chance to do what was right for him and Maizy. For his heart.
Fueled by that thought, Jax fisted his hand and banged harder. “Em, I know you’re in there—talk to me, Em. Just talk to me.”
Nothing. Nothing but the stares of the neighborhood people he’d acquired with the racket he was making, nothing but the sounds of the coming night.
He had to clench his fist to keep from driving it through the cold metal of the door. “This isn’t over, Em. Not by a long shot. I’ll keep coming back until you see me. Until you hear what I have to say.”
He pressed his ear to the door and waited, as though after all that banging, she’d suddenly pop open the door and welcome him with that warm Em smile.
More silence.
Damn it.
If he had to come back with a backhoe, he was going to get her to open her door.
*
Em let her cheek rest against the door, distantly watching tears roll off her face and onto the hardwood entryway. The sound of Jax’s truck revving its engine and driving away left her empty and cold.
She wanted to fling open the door and launch herself at him. To tell him it was all her. This had nothing to do with him. But she couldn’t. Seeing him would only make everything that much harder in light of their sex-only relationship.
Why did he want to talk anyway? Did you talk about ending a sexual relationship, or didn’t you just end it? Wasn’t that what they’d agreed on?
Did he need to see her to end it? Admittedly, texts were bad form when breaking up, but they weren’t breaking up, breaking up. They were quitting the sex games.
This was the no harm, no foul part.
But she’d realized something today. Dixie was right. She wasn’t a fling kind of girl. She wasn’t the kind of girl who could take a lover in the afternoon.
Because she was in love with Jax Hawthorne.
*
“Daddy?”
“Maizy?”
She hopped up on the couch next to him, the feathers of her boa shedding on the new couch he’d been talked into, and pressed her nose to his. “Do you feel sick?”
“Nope. Why do you ask?”
She used the back of her hand to feel his forehead, knocking him in the eye with the charms from the bracelet Em had given her. “Because you look sick.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Your face is all pouty like Uncle Tag’s.”
Jax rubbed his nose against hers. “I’ll try not to be so pouty.”
“If you’re sad, it’s okay to be pouty. Em said so.”
Em. She’d only been in their lives for a little while, and already she’d left an impact on Maizy. “Em’s smart.”
Maizy giggled, that light giggle dipped in fairy wings. “She’s nice. Can she be your girlfriend? You’re not so cranky when she’s around.”