Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(98)

“My boss needs to know what my plans are, if she should hold my job or not.”

Max appeared as unsure as she felt.

“I’d like to stay and wait for Rooster,” she admitted, “but I can’t remain in California indefinitely.”

“To stay or to leave? That’s a good question.” He rang his assistant and asked her to bring in coffee, which she did. It seemed Max needed the caffeine to help him think this through. After a bit, he returned to his desk chair and asked, “How are you holding up?”

She shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I just wish Rooster would let one of us know where he is.”

“I know. I was hoping …” He left the rest unsaid.

“Does he do this sort of thing often?”

“No, never.” Max appeared as perplexed by his partner’s behavior as she was.

“Why wouldn’t he take his cellphone?” she pleaded. This was the most frustrating thing about Rooster’s disappearance. At least then she’d be able to text him. That way he would know that she loved him and wanted to take whatever steps were necessary to make their marriage viable.

“I suspect he either forgot it or simply chose not to be bothered.”

“By me?”

“By anyone,” Max clarified.

“What if he’s been in an accident? What if he never comes back? What if a gang jumps him and leaves him for dead? What if he decides he wants nothing more to do with me? What if—”

“Lauren, Lauren …” Max stopped her, holding up his hand. “I don’t have any answers for you. I wish I did. I will tell you that Rooster can take care of himself, so you shouldn’t worry on that account. He needs to clear his head, and once he does, he’ll be back. How long that will take is anyone’s guess.”

Cupping the foam coffee cup, Lauren let his words sink in. All at once she felt clarity and knew what she needed to do. “I’m going back to Seattle. I’ll give Rooster the rest of this week before I book my airfare. I’ll tell Elisa and Garry I’ll return to work … I don’t know what else to do.” And really there were only a few options available to her.

Max nodded. “I can’t say I blame you. If I hear anything from Rooster, you’ll be the first person I contact.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. Not wanting to take up any more of his time, she left.

The rest of the day dragged, as did Tuesday and Wednesday. The key, Lauren realized, was keeping herself busy. It was either that or go stir-crazy with worry. The what-ifs continued to plague her like pesky mosquitoes on a muggy summer night. Once a question came into her mind, it was a painful itch that was hard to ignore and a constant nuisance. She did her best to swat down the doubts, but with little success.

Wednesday night she was sitting up in bed reading when she thought she heard the faint sound of a motorcycle in the distance. As the harsh engine noise grew closer, she was convinced it had to be Rooster.

Right away her heart started to pound hard and fast. Certain now that it must be Rooster, Lauren leaped out of bed and ran a complete circle around the room before she could think clearly. Once she did, she grabbed a hairbrush and jerked it through her hair. Then she reached for her favorite cologne. In her rush, she sprayed her face instead of the pulse points in her neck and then was forced to blink several times as her eyes filled with tears from the irritation.

Rather than turn on the lights, she hurried downstairs and stood in the middle of the living room in her long white nightgown, clenching her hands in front of her, waiting to surprise her husband.

Sure enough, a few minutes later the door off the garage opened and Rooster stepped into the house. His boots made clunking sounds against the hardwood floor as he walked into the darkness. He had a side table just off the kitchen that Lauren had moved when she rearranged the living room furniture. When he went to drop his keys where he normally did, they crashed onto the floor.

“What the …” he muttered and switched on the lights. Instantly, a yellow softness flooded the area.

She wanted to say something, but her heart was in her throat as excitement and joy filled her. Her first glance at him nearly took her breath away. He looked tired and road weary, as if he’d been on his bike for days without end. His shoulders were slouched slightly forward as if he was deeply depressed.

Lauren wasn’t sure when he saw her or even if he did. “Hello, Rooster,” she whispered.

He stood half a room away and froze, glaring at her as if she were an apparition, as if he wasn’t sure he should believe it was her.

In her mind, Lauren had fantasized about their reunion. Being a die-hard romantic, she had envisioned him rushing to take her in his arms, kissing her senseless.

Instead, Rooster stared at her as if she was the last person on earth he wanted to see. She waited for him to comment, to say something, but he remained stubbornly silent.

“I moved a few things around,” she said, motioning toward the table. Her voice sounded odd even to herself. “Actually, I sort of rearranged the entire living room.”

His gaze left hers as he glanced around, and as his eyes scanned the room, his frown deepened. It went without saying that he didn’t like what she’d done.

Lauren felt she should explain. “While I was waiting for you … I read a book on feng shui and decided to put a few of the basic principles into practice.” She wanted to explain more of what she’d learned but hesitated. He still hadn’t said a word, didn’t give her even the slightest indication that he was pleased to find her in his home.