Sneak away in the night like a thief.
That didn’t seem very dignified, but her anxiety latched on to the idea.Do it. Go. Get out of here.
Right now, she felt like an afterthought. Which was fine. Totally fine. She got it. His kid came first. That was one of the things she adored about him. He was a father, first and foremost, and the last thing she wanted was to get in the way of that bond.
Despite their passion for each other, Jazzy was super glad his mother and Trinity had interrupted them. They’d been moving too fast. Burning too hot.
Go home.
Roan and his family were still talking in the hallway. Trinity chattering away about the tea party.
It was now or never.
Jazzy slung her purse over her shoulder, went to the window and raised it. Cold night air rushed into the room. Carefully, she took off the outer screen and set it on the ground, dropped her purse out first, and then crawled from the window, one leg at a time.
She landed in a fallow flowerbed, grabbed her purse, now covered with dirt and leaves, and made a run for it. Heart pounding hard in her throat, she jumped into her car and backed out, just as she saw Roan come out of the house to watch her drive away.
When she got home, she saw that he’d texted her.
Roan:Sorry about that. Trinity got homesick.
Jazzy:No worries.
He didn’t respond immediately. Jazzy showered, washing away the scent of Roan that clung to her skin, put on her pj’s, brushed her teeth, and got into bed, Sabrina beside her, by the time her cell dinged again.
Roan:Rain check on the baking lessons tomorrow?
Disappointment sent her stomach plunging to her feet.Everything okay?
Roan:Sure, sure, just really busy.
Jazzy:Day after tomorrow?
Roan:Pretty busy that day too.
Jazzy:The day after that?
Roan:Let’s play it by ear.
Uh-oh. This wasn’t a good sign. Had she blown things with him by moving too fast? Hauling in a deep breath, she textedKand added a smiley face emoji to show there were no hard feelings.Let me know when.
There. The ball was in his court. If he contacted her, fantastic. If not, well at least they hadn’t gone all the way. She’d gotten out before she’d fallen in too deep. It was cool. Fine. Great. No sweat, Chet, as her dad would say.
Roan did not text back.
She tried not to take it personally, told herself she wasn’t taking it personally, but as she drifted off to sleep, a voice in the back of her brain whispered,Liar.
“I’m so glad you called,” Jazzy’s stepmother said as the hostess ushered them through the antique store portion of the Painted Parrot Parlor three days later. “It’s been ages since we’ve had lunch together, just you and me.”
A hostess led them through a beaded curtain into the tearoom filled with vibrant colors and all things parrot—parrot dishes, parrot statues, parrot branded merchandise. This time of year, Christmas decorations adorned the parrots. The tree in the middle of the room, in front of a crackling fireplace, was a twelve-foot spruce tree, laden with parrot ornaments. Low parrot sounds piped in through a speaker system created a jungle atmosphere in a place it did not fit.
She and Sarah knew the women seated at the tables. The Painted Parrot Parlor was a hot spot forthe ladies-who-lunch in Twilight, and it was a rare male who darkened the door. They waved across the room and exchanged many “hellos” and “how-are-yous.”
The hostess passed them off to the server who held out two menus cut in the shape of parrots.
Sarah shook her head. “We know what we want.”
“The croissant chicken sandwich,” Jazzy said. “With cranberry sauce on the side.”