Page 30 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

Nothing about him and Elliott had felt final. Or over. Like their connection was a physical object, suspended and frozen in time, something that wouldn’t disappear or float away. He’d shut the memory away when he’d finally decided to close the door on the possibility of ever finding her.

But now that Elliott was back, a small, unwelcome part of him wanted to peek inside that door to see: Had he truly moved on, or was it an illusion? What if everything was still there—the chemistry, the emotions, the laughter? What would he do if they resurfaced, even though he was with Carly now?

That thought disturbed him the most—the possibility that no matter how hard he’d fought against it, he might have inclinations like his father’s.

It also immediately strengthened his resolve where Elliott was concerned. He wouldn’t throw away what he had with Carly based on a single encounter from a year ago, no matter how intense his feelings had been at the time. A few hours of fun didn’t mean he and Elliott would have made it as a couple, even if she’d stayed.

Right?

He startled when his phone buzzed on the desk. God, how long had he sat here, brooding?

Blythe:??I can’t come to dad’s party tonight, so sorry??

He groaned, and typed out??what? Why not???Stacy, their dad’s wife (Jamie refused to call her his stepmom, not only because she was Wife Number Four but also because she was a measly six years older than he was) was throwing his dad a party for his sixtieth birthday. Jamie wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.

Blythe:??Holden’s sick.??

Jamie:??Is he okay???

Blythe:??Yeah. Nothing serious, but sick enough I don’t want to leave him. I hate to ditch you with dad and Greg.??

Jamie:??No worries, focus on my favorite little guy. Carly’s coming with me, anyway.??

Carly was the perfect buffer at family events, especially those involving his dad. An extrovert and queen of the social scene who could make small talk with anyone, she rarely met someone she couldn’t befriend. Even, conveniently, arrogant assholes like his dad and his brother, Greg. Carly made evenings spent with that side of his family easier to swallow.

After the divorce, Jamie and his sister had gravitated more toward their mother, and to this day, Jamie would choose an evening with the women in his family over his dad and brother. But his dad was still that—his dad—and their relationship was just complicated.

In some ways Jamie held little respect for him, the first hit coming after his dad cheated on his mom. Then each accusation of infidelity from subsequent wives chipped away at what little remained. But he’d been a surprisingly supportive father through high school and college, always pushing Jamie to be his best academically and athletically. Not that he would ever ask, but if he was ever in a bind and needed money or help, his dad would do it without question. So while he kept social interactions with his dad to a minimum, Jamie figured a party for a major birthday was something he should attend.

Blythe:??I heard Greg is bringing a new girlfriend.??

Jamie:??Of course he is.??

Greg had followed in their dad’s footsteps in more ways than one—joining the family business and going through women faster than the cans of Axe body spray he doused himself with.

Blythe:??Want me to call around nine with an emergency???

Jamie checked his calendar app to confirm the party started at six. There was no way he’d make it three hours.

Jamie:??Better make it 8.??

Jamie wanted to leave almost as soon as they walked through the door.

He’d never really liked being in this house. It was the place his father had broken his mother’s heart and torn their family into halves: Dad and Greg vs. Mom, Blythe, and Jamie. Those first few years of splitting his time across two houses had sucked, and Jamie had been jealous of kids who didn’t commute between bedrooms.

The assortment of guests in attendance was ... awkward. Several of his dad’s work buddies were there, mostly older men. Some had brought their wives, some hadn’t, and the ones that hadn’t were making quick work of flirting with the other half of attendees: Stacy’s young, perky friends.

Then there was Jamie’s older brother, Greg, with a woman who looked about twelve years his junior on his arm.

Jamie blew out a breath and tightened his hold on Carly’s hand, steering her straight to the bar set up on the patio next to the pool. She’d had an early meeting at the accounting firm where she worked, so he hoped she’d want to lie low, enjoy a drink outside, and pass by his dad in, say, half an hour on their way out to wish him happy birthday.

“Carly!” Stacy rushed over, clapping her hands with a little hop. “You made it.”

Carly’s hand slipped from Jamie’s as she hugged Stacy with an equally enthusiastic greeting. In minutes, Carly was sucked in with a group of young women, giggling and talking.

He’d always admired her ability to fit in seamlessly with any crowd, even an elite, high-profile one like this. Despite being raised by a single mother who was constantly in financial straits, Carly’s natural charisma made the men feel important and the women as if she were their confidante and friend. Everyone loved her.

She hadn’t always been so extroverted. When he met her that first week of college debate class his freshman year, she’d been friendly but reserved. She’d just moved to Omaha on a scholarship to Creighton University’s accounting program, and it was clear she felt out of place in the new environment.

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