She climbed back into the van and sat there for a long time, staring with unseeing eyes at the parking lot. She couldn’t quite grasp Jamie was still in Glacier Creek, or that she’d seen him with another woman. Just three days ago she’d been ready to give him up, convinced they weren’t right for each other, and yet seeing him with that woman made her realize he was the only man she wanted.
She loved him.
They were all wrong for each other, but nothing felt as right as Jamie’s arms around her.
They belonged together.
Rachel gripped the steering wheel, and then bent her head down onto her hands, willing herself not to cry. She had no one to blame but herself. She was the only one who could make things right with Jamie.
She straightened and dragged in several long breaths, willing herself to be strong. She didn’t know how she was going to fix the colossal mess she’d made of her life, but she was going to try.
First, she needed to make some changes.
*
Nothing had ever felt as good as getting that damned cast removed, Jamie thought, as he gently worked the stiffness out of his leg. Well, except having Rachel in his arms. There wasn’t anything that could compete with that.
She’d tried to call him numerous times over the past week, but he’d stubbornly refused to answer. If he did, he’d cave. He was total mush in her hands and there was no way he wanted her to know that. Right now, his pride was all he had left. He couldn’t risk seeing her until he was sure he could keep his emotions in check.
He missed her.
More than that, he missed them, together. He’d been on the verge of calling her so many times, but then he’d remember the scorn in her voice as she’d compared him to the Deke-wad, and he’d set the phone aside.
Someone knocked on the door, and he called out a greeting, allowing himself to relax back on the sofa. The door opened, and Laurel Cavanaugh came into the living room. Tall and slender, with reddish hair and glasses she continually pushed up with one finger, she was Dylan’s closest neighbor. He thought she might be pretty if only she’d smile more. He had a tough time reconciling the fact she was the bestselling author of a popular murder mystery series. Shy by nature, she preferred to be at her house writing her books, but Cole had asked if she could look in on Jamie, and she’d taken the request very seriously.
She wasn’t at all his type, but Jamie liked her quiet, unassuming manner, and the fact she didn’t ask him questions. When Cole had been unable to give him a ride to the hospital for his doctor appointment, Laurel had volunteered. He was grateful for her calming presence, especially when the doctor told him he would walk with a pronounced limp for the rest of his life, and that his combat days were likely over.
He still had a tough time processing that information. If he couldn’t deploy with his unit, he wasn’t sure he wanted to remain in the military. He wasn’t cut out for a desk job or an administrative detail.
He’d left the hospital feeling as if his entire world had tilted sideways. Laurel had been the one to tell him the only restrictions he had were the ones he imposed on himself, and he could still do whatever he put his mind to. He hadn’t wanted to hear that, but she’d planted the seed and over the past few days, he’d found himself reluctantly thinking about other options: ones that would keep him here in Glacier Creek.
“Hey,” Laurel called in greeting from the kitchen. “I was at the farmer’s market this morning, so I picked up some fresh corn and tomatoes, and a half dozen steaks.” She leaned back to look at him through the doorway. “Dylan is coming home today, right?”
“Yeah, he should be here in an hour or so. Why did you get so many steaks?”
“His parents are going to be dropping him off, so I thought they might like to stay and have supper with him.”
“You didn’t have to do that, but thanks. Let me give you some money.”
She waved his words away. “Absolutely not. That’s what friends do for each other, right? Think of it as my way of welcoming Dylan home again.”
“You’re going to join us, I hope.”
“Of course!” Laurel gave him an owlish look from behind her glasses. “I never pass up an opportunity to give Dylan a hard time.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Jamie said drily.
She’d been taking care of Boomer—and himself—since he’d come to stay at the timber-frame house. Dylan had hinted there was more to Laurel than most people were aware, but he didn’t elaborate. Jamie was pretty sure Laurel had a crush on Dylan, but didn’t think her feelings were reciprocated. She wasn’t Dylan’s type. Although, to be fair, Dylan didn’t seem to have a type.