Page 51 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

Now, though, he could hardly think of anything else. He wanted to talk to her, be in her presence. He wanted to know more about her and let his gaze roam over her freckles and study the colors in her eyes.

He wanted to touch her and find out if it still felt like fireworks.

Would this feeling always be unique to him and Elliott? Or was it possible he could feel it again with someone else? If this was the feeling his dad and brother were after, he could hardly blame them for wanting it, even if their methods of going about it were pure shit.

“You’re not, Jamie. You. Aren’t. Dad,” she repeated pointedly. “Hear me?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

A loud noise sounded in the background, and Blythe groaned. “I gotta go check on Jake and Holden before they tear up my living room. Just do me a favor, okay?”

“Maybe.”

“Something tells me this won’t just go away. Consider the consequences—both of them. Worst-case scenario, both women hate you and neither end up in your life.”

“Is this supposed to be helping?”

“You didn’t let me get to the best-case scenario.”

It didn’t seem possible anything was worth the risk of what she’d just said. “What’s that?”

She paused for a beat, probably for dramatic effect.

“You end up with everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Jamie laid low over the next two and a half weeks, avoiding thinking about his conversation with his sister. Blythe and his buddy Ian texted him a couple of times, but he’d declined their offers to hang out. He’d been looped into a barhop Tara organized, and while he was pretty confident he and Carly would be fine around each other, he didn’t want anyone else to feel awkward. It was too soon.

He’d never minded being alone and kind of enjoyed the peace and quiet, truth be told. He spent his days at the nursery or on jobsites, headphones in and content to be outside. He’d long ago decided trees made damn good colleagues—living, breathing, selfless companions that offered beauty, shade, and life without expectation or judgment.

Other than spending a day with his nephew and regular Tuesday dinners with his mom, he spent his evenings at home, reading and running. The latter had become a necessary outlet, and Hank wasn’t complaining. In fact, he’d become a complete nuisance on the two days Jamie’d taken a break, constantly barking at his leash and pawing at the door.

Which brought him to his current situation: beseeching his beloved dog with an apologetic gaze.

“I can’t do it, bud,” Jamie said from his sprawled position on the couch. “I spent the day with Holden to give Blythe and Jake some time to themselves, and that kid ran me ragged. Four-year-olds are no joke.”

Hank sat by the door and barked.

“No.”

Another bark.

“Hank, no.”

A sad, high-pitched whine.

Jamie made the mistake of catching Hank’s eye and groaned. He couldn’t resist that pathetic face. “Fine, we can go outside, but only to the park, okay? No run today. My calves are toast.”

Jamie rose from the couch, and Hank leaped up, circling his legs and nearly knocking him over. “Easy.” He slipped the leash on, and Hank fairly yanked him through the door.

He took a deep breath as they stepped into the evening air. Sunset was Jamie’s second-favorite time of day, just after sunrise. There was just something about those moments of transition when his part of the world went from night to day and back again. The stillness, the colors, the opportunity for something new ... It never failed to give him a sense of calm and the urge to just stand still and breathe. Just for a second.

Resisting Hank’s intent to pick up the pace, Jamie strolled through the buildings and to the grassy knoll leading up to the dog park. He wasn’t prepared for Hank to suddenly veer right, and he cursed as he barely caught himself from falling on his ass.

“What the—”

“Hank!”

Elliott materialized to his right, sitting in the grass with her legs extended straight in front of her.

---