The Cowboy and the Cougar (The Cougar Chronicles #1)(28)

But no. She’d just left.

Now she hadn’t called.

Jack leaned down and gave his son a quick peck on the cheek. "Sleep tight, pal," he whispered. He tucked the cotton sheet around him a little tighter and left the room.

He fell on his bed, still fully clothed.

It was over.

Hell, it hadn’t even begun.





Holly looked at her watch. Eight fourteen a.m. Not even a minute had passed since she’d last looked. Was it too early to call Mark? It was Monday, but it was a holiday. He’d given the students his cell number, but he might not appreciate such an early call on a holiday.

Frantically, she picked up her own cell and dialed. Her heart beat like a stampede of buffalo. She’d risk Mark’s wrath. She needed to talk to Jack, to tell him how she felt, and why she’d left. God, please let him understand.

Five minutes later, Jack’s number programmed into her cell, she listened to the ringing on the other end. It wasn’t ringing, actually. It was Glen Campbell singing Rhinestone Cowboy. She couldn’t help but smile. Jack hadn’t even been alive when that song was popular.

"This is Jack," came his whiskey-smooth voice.

"Jack? It’s me."

A pause. A long pause. A pause so f*cking long Holly thought for sure the earth had revolved once around the sun already. Then, finally, "Holly."

She sighed. "Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I want to apologize for—"

He cut her off. "Was it an emergency, Holly?"

"Well, not exactly, but—"

"Is someone dead?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"No. Of course not. No one’s dead."

"Anyone in the hospital?"

"No. Jack, just listen—"

"Then there isn’t any reason why you couldn’t come tell me before you left. Hell, I’d have driven you home. I’d have done anything for you."

Her heart skipped, and tears blurred her vision. "Oh, Jack. Please. I do have an explanation."

"Not one I care to hear."

"But I—"

"Good-bye, Holly."

"Jack!" Had he hung up? Damn these cell phones! They won’t even tell you when someone hangs up on you!

"Jack! Jack!"

No reply.

A sob broke through and she threw her cell phone against the wall. It clattered to the ground. She ran to it, relieved it was still intact for the most part. She slid the battery cover back in place and hit redial.

More Glen Campbell.

He didn’t answer and it didn’t go to voicemail.

Damn! She tried again. Still no answer.

Now what? She had to talk to him.

She sped into her office and logged in to the Cougar Club. Those ladies would know what to do. No one was chatting. Well, what did she expect? It was before nine a.m. on a holiday morning.

She’d just have to go to Jack’s place. She hadn’t paid close attention when she’d been driven either way, but if she concentrated...

She took a quick shower, raked her fingers through her wet hair and added a touch of lipstick. That was it. She didn’t want to take any more time. She had to get to Jack before it was too late.

It already is.

She brushed the thought from her mind. True, he might send her packing when he found she couldn’t have children but she had to let him decide. She’d made the decision for him, and that was wrong.

Maybe all he wanted was a casual relationship. Maybe he wasn’t in love with her and never would be. Could she live with that?

She sighed and grabbed her purse and car keys from the kitchen counter. No use prognosticating. She’d have all her answers soon enough.





Chapter Thirteen


"Jack?"

Her voice cut through him like a switchblade. He’d just come in from a midmorning ride with Sam and had sent his son to find Luisa. Taking care of the horses soothed his mind, so he let Sam off the hook this once and decided to curry both horses himself. He’d just finished cleaning the last hoof when her voice sliced into him.

He didn’t turn.

"What do you want?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Not interested."

Such a lie. He was so interested that his heart was thundering against his sternum just at the damn sound of her voice. Why had this happened? Why had he fallen in love? Why had he brought her here and introduced her to Sam?

Sam deserved better.

"I’m so sorry...."

Her words trailed off and he still didn’t turn. If he looked at her, he’d be lost.

Her breathy sigh caressed the back of his neck. She was that close. Don’t turn around, Jack.

"I didn’t think you’d get this hurt."

Damn. Those were fighting words. He turned around and the moistness in her emerald eyes tugged at him. But he hardened his heart.

"Not get hurt? What did you think I invited you here for, Holly? Sex? A prolonged weekend of hedonism? Hell, I didn’t need to bring you to my home, introduce you to my son, for that."

"No, I—"

"Please go away."

"I can’t, Jack. Not until you hear me out. I behaved stupidly. I know that. But there are reasons. And I—"