Watch Me Fall (Ross Siblings, #5)(91)



“Jared?”

She didn’t really want to think about it, so she popped the cookie into her mouth. She didn’t want to cast a shadow on how fortunate she’d been with this new gig. But she’d had to pause while mixing the batter earlier so that a teardrop didn’t fall into it. Fuck. Would she never be able to make cookies again without thinking of two little girls and their gorgeous dad? “Oh, just the latest in my never-ending stream of f*ckups. I’m used to them by now.”

“I think this one has hit you harder than most. You fled town, babe.”

“I would have done that anyway. This move has been awesome for me. I love it here. I would’ve been stupid not to take this chance, right? Just once, though…” She trailed off, startled by the warmth gathering behind her eyes, remembering Brian’s words. “I’ve seen you chase after some sorry motherf*ckers since I’ve known you.” She held her next words captive until she was quite sure they wouldn’t erupt with blubbering sobs. “Just once I want someone to chase after me. And not in the psychotic-stalker sense of the word.”

Janelle clinked her bottle with Starla’s and took a swig. “I hear that.”

“So I’ll take my time and be alone for a while. It’ll be good for me, I think. I find I kind of enjoy it.” The words rang hollow even to her.

“After Julie and Doug, I’m sure you do.”

“I do miss Jared, though.” So much. Sometimes it was hard to breathe. She didn’t understand. She’d cared much less about men she’d spent much, much more time with—and spent much more time chasing. None of them had ever made her feel this empty when they weren’t with her. Hell, she had to face it: she’d mostly been after a piece of ass back then. Not that she didn’t miss f*cking Jared; she’d already burned the motor out of one vibrator thinking about that last night she had with him.

But those orgasms were empty, pathetic shadows, and somehow she knew letting any other man help her out with her nocturnal cravings would produce the same result.

Two nights ago, she’d had a shot at proving it to herself. A smooth-talking, well-muscled, smoky-eyed client of hers had made advances when they ran into each other at a liquor store. She’d been wearing her shortest shorts and carrying wine and a six-pack of the bottles she and Jan were drinking from right now. He’d asked if she needed any help putting those away. Promise had practically oozed from the words, but the “No, I got it” had sprung from her lips before she even considered. The temptation hadn’t been there, not for a second. A few months ago, that dude might have become her latest mistake.

“Well, I’m proud of you,” Jan said. “Everyone is. We miss you, but we’re proud. Especially Brian. You’ve taken a load off his shoulders, you know.”

Starla smiled, her heart warming. She, along with countless others, had told Brian to keep his ass at home and heal with his loving wife and baby and, for once, he was listening to them. But she knew he couldn’t wait to get back to work. Candace had spent some time at the new shop with her going over the accounting software. Sometimes she brought Lyric, whom Starla had taken to calling Lyr-Jet. She’d even become rather adept at diaper changes herself. More amazingly, Lyric seemed to like her. He would flash his daddy’s dimples at her and sometimes fall asleep in her arms after his bottle, his tufts of black hair spiked in a tiny Mohawk.

“Ovaries quivering yet?” Candace had asked her.

Starla had cocked an eyebrow at her. “Dude, I have ovaries of motherf*cking steel.”

But she did love cuddling that baby. He was so sweet and smelled so good. Thinking of how close he’d come to losing his daddy never failed to take her breath away. The entire Dermamania crew confessed to still having nightmares about that night, but they were slowly getting better, all of them thankful they still had their friend here. That Candace still had her husband, and Lyric his father.

All was definitely as it should be. If Jared had only been a stepping stone to reach this pleasant height in her life, she supposed she would have to accept that. Enjoy the view she had, and not the one she wished she had, with him at her side.

Things could always be worse.

***

“The number you have reached is no longer in service…”

Jared could practically feel the blood leaving his face as he let the hand holding his phone drop to his lap. He could still hear the recording prattling on, but it scarcely registered. She’d changed her number.

He sat alone in his truck across the street from Dermamania. Starla’s car still wasn’t at work. This time, he’d planned to stop if she was there, but now several days in a row had gone by and she hadn’t been there once. Curiosity had become concern, and now outright panic, so he’d dared to try to call her. No luck. She’d said she was quitting, so maybe she’d followed through with that. But where was she? What was she doing?

Here they’d fought so hard to defeat a stalker, and he was on the verge of turning into one himself.

Jared had thought with Brian on the mend and everything settled on that front, she might reconsider her decision to leave her job; she might decide she needed her friends and stay at Dermamania after all. Okay, obviously that hadn’t happened. He drove to her house, going over in his head everything he needed to say, everything she deserved to hear. Maybe she would tell him to go to hell, in which case he supposed he would, forever doomed to replay in his head those hateful words they’d exchanged at his house the morning she left.

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