Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(75)

“And I’m going to go clear that table,” said Lydia, disappearing.

“Damn,” muttered Jean. “I’m sorry they tried to drag you into this. They can be a little overwhelming when they get an idea in their heads sometimes.”

“Just a little,” I muttered. “But is moving back something you’ve been seriously thinking about?”

“They want you to move back home?” asked Nell, eyes wide.

“Her home is here,” I said, reaching for the baby. The fact that Nell handed Ada over without a fuss just went to show her surprise. “They want her to move away.”

Jean sighed, saying nothing. Her expression was impossible to read. She was pissed off that her parents had broached it with me, but beneath that I couldn’t gauge her thinking.

On a rational level, I could get my head around the idea that she might want to move back to Florida. I mean, she’d spent her whole life there. Obviously it was what she knew best and was probably comfortable with. But she’d gone to a hell of a lot of trouble to start over in Coeur d’Alene. Just the thought of her leaving gave me heart palpitations, made me break out in a cold sweat. The thought of losing her and Ada both. Fuck. We’d barely gotten started and it might all be over. To go back to the way things were, being alone, not having Jean in my life, not seeing Ada every day.

“I should get to the, um, kitchen.” Nell’s words were slow. Maybe it went against the grain for her to realize that Jean and I had stuff to talk about without her. “To do the, um, thing.” Forehead furrowed, she gave Jean and me a somewhat confused look before disappearing back into the kitchen. Seemed she and Jean still had some making up to do after the party at Mal’s. But while Nell might not like the state of play between her friend and me, my care factor remained low to nonexistent. Jesus. Relationships were complicated enough without bringing friends and families into it all. Most days, I was too busy trying to figure out what I could do to help Jean to have time to worry about everyone else’s delicate little feelings. Especially when it came to shit that was honestly none of their concern.

But now that Jean and I were sort of alone …

“How do you feel about moving back to Florida?” I asked. “That’s the question.”

Her hesitation felt like a fist to the gut. “I don’t know. Even after everything, I do miss them. People make mistakes, right?”

“Sure. But I thought you were happy here?”

She said nothing.

“Jean, sweetheart?”

Beautiful eyes looked my way. “Eric … let’s talk about it later. I need to get Mom and Dad to the airport.”

“Right.”

She took Ada.

“Dive safe, okay?”

“Will do.” A fleeting smile curved her lips, there and gone in an instant.

It didn’t help the sudden horrible feeling she might be slipping away from me.

*

When I went to talk to her that night, everything was silent. A towel hanging over the doorknob signaled all lines of communication were closed. I had the worst fucking feeling she was avoiding me.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The moment Jean opened the door, I sprang into action. “Mom, this is Jean. Jean, this my mom, Audrey. She wanted to meet Ada. Now’s a good time, right?”

“Hi.” Jean put a hand to her bed hair, trying to smooth the tangled nest out. “Ah…”

After shooting me a perplexed look, Mom attempted a smile. “Nice to meet you!”

I didn’t drag Mom down the hallway because how rude. But I did steer her inside the apartment and straight over to where Ada was lying on her blanket, whaling on the plastic turtle as per usual.

“See, Mom?” I asked. “Here she is. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

“She’s beautiful.”

“Sit down there beside her,” I directed. “You two should spend some time together. I bet you’ll get along great.”

Mom’s gaze went from me to Jean and back again. “Honey…”

“This is cool with you, right, Jean?”

The woman opened her mouth to answer, but it took a while for the words to start flowing. “Of, um, course. How lovely to meet you, Audrey.”

“I’ll get some coffee going,” I said, wandering over to the kitchen. “You having sugar or not today, sweetheart?”

Jean just gave me a weird look. Guess she was still waking up.

“Some days she doesn’t have it, ’cause she worries about the weight she put on when she was pregnant,” I told Mom, shaking my head. “Crazy, right? She looks great. Doesn’t she look great?”

“You look wonderful, dear.” Mom held the tip of her tongue between her teeth. Something she often did when she was thinking. “Eric, you said Jean knew we were visiting this morning.”

“I did?” I asked, sorting out the coffeepot.

“You did.”

“Right, I meant to say that I was going to check, but that last night she had this towel signal out so—”

“Its fine,” said Jean, her smile steadier now. More awake.

God, she was gorgeous. I couldn’t resist stealing a quick kiss off of her.

“Morning-breath alert,” she mumbled.