It’s working.
God, what is it about my siblings that makes me revert to middle school?
I stomp into the house and then make my way to the office, slamming myself down in the seat so hard it squeaks in protest.
I take a few deep breaths and then check my phone.
A text from Archer is waiting.
Imiss you. It’s too hot down here, and boring. No raccoons or laundry chalets in sight.
Ismile, some of my frustration ebbing at the connection.
Imiss you too. I can’t bring myself to clean up your cabin. Every time I look at it, I get turned on.
Iset my phone down, thinking he won’t be able to respond right away because he’s supposed to be slammed with meetings all day. Warmth spreads through me when my phone dings only a moment later.
You just made me groan out loud and Nora thinks I’m sick. We can talk about your state of arousal tonight. I can’t even think of you right now or I’ll have to try and get through this next meeting with a boner.
He sends an eggplant emoji.
I chuckle and send him some kissy emoji’s and then put my phone back down.
I wish he was here so I could take care of his little problem but also so I could talk to him about Jacob. But it will all have to wait.
The truck isn’t here.
I stand at the side door, hand gripping the knob, gazing at the vacant spot in the driveway. My heart thumps a dull beat in my chest. It’s almost seven in the morning, and he’s still not home.
Maybe he parked out front, even though he’s never done that before, ever, and it wouldn’t make sense, since he would have to go through the front office, but you never know.
I stalk around to the front.
Nope. No one. He’s not here. I wrap my arms around myself, shivering in the early-morning chill, staring at nothing.
This can’t be right. I race back inside.
“Jacob?” I knock at his room, listening intently for any response.
Only silence. There are no snores, no irritated grumbles, no shuffling or movement of any kind.
I push the door open. “Jake?” It’s empty. I move to the bed, resting a hand on the rumpled sheets. Cold.
“Dammit.”
I left my phone in the kitchen.
Stomping back down the stairs, I lean against the counter and try to call him. It goes straight to voicemail.
I should have called Veronica’s or something last night, but I was distracted by Archer’s phone call and the subsequent conversation that involved his deep voice in my ear, giving me a preview of exactly how he wants to touch me when he returns. So distracted I didn’t even tell him about my argument with Jake. Sure, it was nice to not be stressed out all night, but now I’m paying for it.
I call Frank but get his voicemail.
“Shit.”
What now?
I put my phone next to me and rub my temples, trying to soothe the growing ache. What if something happened? The truck might have broken down. But then he would answer his phone or call me, right?