Chapter Eleven
As she walked into The Panting Dog the next day, her heart fluttered at the prospect of seeing him there, and she wanted to tell the dumb organ to settle down. She had no clue what to do or say around him anymore. She didn’t know what they were, or whether they were coming or going. She was rudderless when it came to him, and that scared the heck out of her.
Focus on the friendship, she reminded herself. That was the most important part.
She found him quickly in the back of the bar, tools in hands.
“How did everything go with Diane?” she asked as she walked up to him, with her best friendly face on.
“Great. I think she’s going to be a tremendous help.”
“Good. I’m happy to hear that. I’m seeing her later for dinner at my parents’ house, so I’m sure she can give me more details.”
“Hey Jamie. I’ve got an idea,” he said, and she detected a touch of nerves in his tone, but he continued stroking her arm, as if that action steadied him.
“What’s your idea?”
“Why don’t you bring me along to dinner? I would really love it if you’d invite me to spend time with you and your parents and your sister,” he said.
Jamie froze. Like a computer with the blue screen of death. Her lips parted and she tried to speak but no words came. Then she knew. With blazing certainty. This was the line she didn’t want to cross. Because if she did, she’d be all in, and that was as good as asking for her heart to be broken. It was one thing to talk to Diane about his work needs, but entirely another to invite Smith into her world. Inviting him in meant they were real, and being real meant she’d get hurt. Sure, he knew Diane—Hidden Oaks was a small town—but they didn’t hang out together. If she brought him into her family as a romantic interest then she was admitting out loud that he was just that—more than a late-night affair. If he was more than an affair, he’d leave her in the dust soon enough.
Leave her with nothing to show for it.
She needed to move him back to the friend zone. Officially. It was better this way. Safer this way. At least they’d have something if they stayed friends.
Her chest felt heavy as she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Let’s just keep this thing between you and me for now. Friends and all,” she added, as if to justify her reasons. She had to focus on the friendship simply to preserve it.
Something dark passed over his eyes, but then he nodded quickly, fixing a serious look on his face. He let go of her arm.
…
Smith prided himself on being easygoing. He tried hard not to let things get to him. And he certainly wasn’t known for a short temper. So it took every ounce of self-control not to say something hurtful to match what he felt inside.
Through gritted teeth, he spoke under his breath. “So let me see if I understand this. I’m good enough for you to get down on your knees in my hallway. To help with business. And you’ll even happily play Mad Libs in my truck,” he said, watching as she cringed with his reminders of all they’d done. “But having dinner with your sister is where you draw the line?”
“Smith,” she said, fidgeting with the cuffs of her sweater, as she tried desperately to look anywhere but in his eyes.
“Smith what?” he asked sharply.
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like? Enlighten me.”
“We’re not doing a relationship,” she said, her voice cool and even. “So I don’t know why we’d do that. We’re friends, and I want to stay that way.”
“You told me you think I’m just fun and easygoing, but you also said you wanted serious. I’m trying to be serious by spending time with you and your family. To show you I can be that guy. I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“I do,” she said in a careful voice, as if it were a question.
The silence clung to him, and in the span of several painful seconds, the answer to her question dawned on him.
“Just not with me,” he said, and he didn’t bother to keep the anger from his voice this time. He hadn’t planned for this, but after last night, and the way they connected today, he didn’t expect this kind of brush-off.
“That’s not it.”
“Were you just slumming it with me in the bedroom?”
She furrowed her brows. “What?”
Anger and shame rolled through him, fueling his words. “You liked f*cking me because I’m not proper, I’m not a poet, I’m not the romantic sensitive perfect guy. You like the wild side. But I’m never gonna be the kind of guy you want to take home to your parents.”
Her lips parted, and she tried to say something but nothing came out. Her mouth hung open as if she were struggling to find an answer. And that was all the answer he needed. It had been a week, and he thought he’d won both her heart and her body, but when it came right down to it, he was only the dirty-talking fireman to her. He was a joyride, a wild and dirty escape for her. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised—she’d laid down the rules, after all: one week of sex, and that week had drawn to a close.
He stripped the anger from his voice. He didn’t want her to know how much he cared. So much that her dismissal of him felt like a hard punch in the ribs. “I get it. It’s cool. And, I really appreciate the offer of help from your sister. But I have this under control. And, by the way, it’s been a fun week, hasn’t it? But it’s over now, so thanks for the memories, and I need to get back to work so I can finish this bar and get out of your way.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she said, her lips quivering, her eyes brimming.
He turned around, jammed the headphones back on his ears, and drowned out thoughts of her as he listened to music and forced himself to do nothing but work, work, work all day so he could be done with this project and have one less chance of running into Jamie.