Page 102 of Love on Deck

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Page 102 of Love on Deck

No one had an argument for that.

“Let me grab my things.”

“You’ve been using all of my things,” I reminded her.

She looked down at the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt she was wearing. “Oh yeah. I’ll get these back to you later.”

Kevin lifted his eyebrows to Jack. “You coming?”

Jack slid his gaze to me. “Yeah. Can you give me five minutes?”

They left, and Jack immediately crossed the room to slide his arms around me, pulling me in for a hug. “You okay?”

“Actually, yeah. It was good to clear the air. But now I’m drained.” Like someone had pulled the plug from my feet and let all the emotions slip out. With mental and physical exhaustion combined, I was now as limp as a deflated balloon.

“Should I give you a few days to decompress?” he asked, his hands roaming over my back.

What did I want? Aside from him, of course. The idea of space away from him didn’t provide the relief I would have expected. “I don’t need space.”

“Then I’ll call you tomorrow after work?”

“Yes.” I leaned back, pressing my lips to his. “Tomorrow after work is good. I’ll plan something for dinner.”

“Okay. I better go or I’ll be walking,” he said, pulling me in for one more hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “See you tomorrow, Lo.”

I walked him to the door. Maybe I still didn’t have any direction for what I wanted to do or where I should put my energy now that Hunnam was behind me, but I knew one thing: reconciling with Jack was the best decision I’d made this week.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

JACK

Four days had passed since my conversation with Brad at work, and every minute I spent in the office drove indecision and unease deeper under my skin. The majority of my daily work tasks were in some way related to the conference, which made sense since it was such a huge moneymaker for the company. But I couldn’t handle the conference without resentment building in my chest. I was glad it was Friday, because I wasn’t sure I could take much longer in the MediCorp offices this week.

Brad waved when I passed his office to leave for the weekend, and I smiled back. This was a phase. It would pass, and then I would get back to what I was really at MediCorp to do: marketing.

My phone rang as I was sliding into the back seat of the Uber to get home, and I answered it. “Hey, Colt.”

“Don’t hate me.”

My stomach sank. “You can’t pick me up tonight, can you?”

“Have you tried Mom or Dad?”

“They’re leaving pretty early to drive out to Amarillo, so I don’t want to put this on them too.”

Colt made a disgusted sound. “Why Amarillo?”

“To look at a trailer.” I rubbed my tired eyes.

“They couldn’t find one five hours closer?”

“Guess not. What came up for you?”

“A work thing. I can come out tomorrow afternoon if you can wait.”

Did I have a right to complain when he was literally driving over two hours round trip just to help me pick up my car? I intended on hanging out in Arcadia Creek over the weekend anyway. I wanted to see how Aunt Marnie’s porch swing looked and maybe start a project of my own. I was itching to sand something down to its original state. It was just so satisfying and completely in my control.

“That’s great,” I finally said. “Just let me know when you hit the road.”




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