He jumped to his feet. “I’m not sure. I just want…” he broke off, looked away a moment.
She followed him to her feet, faced him, touched his chest and drew his gaze to hers. “Since when did me jumping out of a plane become the way you judge my dedication to you and to us?”
“It’s not about jumping out of a plane, Shay,” he said. “And I don’t know why that felt so important to me. Actually, I do.” Emotion threaded through his words as he continued. “This isn’t about the plane and the jump at all. At least, not that kind of jump. I pushed you to jump, to do something that scared you, for me, because I wanted a reason to ignore what my gut told me—that you aren’t willing to jump into life with me like I want to jump into life with you. If you were, you wouldn’t turn every obstacle into a mountain.” George and Ryan were down now, a few feet away. “Your patient needs you.” He turned away.
She grabbed his hand and then wrapped her arms around him. Her chin lifted and she stared up at him. Seconds passed and she finally said, “I can’t fix this, can I?”
His lips thinned. “I guess not.” Because not only was he an all-or-nothing guy, but he was also a realist. If she didn’t think she could fix it, she wasn’t trying hard enough. Which meant, she didn’t really want to.
19
FRIDAY NIGHT, more than a week after talking George off the ledge, Caleb and Kent crowded around the television in the trailer’s tiny living room. Kent cursed at a replay of a Texas Rangers game on ESPN when, like Caleb, he wasn’t even much of baseball guy. They were both football guys. But they were both looking for a distraction anywhere they could get it—Kent from his upcoming rehab the next day, and Caleb from the silence between him and Shay.
Kent had taken Shay and Lori home that night, and George had gone out drinking with him and Ryan. Go figure. The guy was all right—a bit odd, but wasn’t everyone in their own way? And ironically, Caleb had talked to George this week, but not to Shay.
George was coming out Saturday to jump again. He was out of the house and teaching a class on campus instead of from his home as of Monday. At least something good had come out of the day that had apparently been the kiss of death for he and Shay.
Frustrated that he was once again thinking of Shay, Caleb shoved to his feet, walked to the kitchen and tugged open the fridge. And stared. He had no idea what he wanted. Oh, yeah. Shay. Who seemed to think if he was near Kent, he couldn’t be near her. He was starting to believe he’d really been her “forbidden fruit” that wasn’t so interesting once it wasn’t forbidden.
His cell phone rang. He snagged it too quickly, and cursed when he realized he’d actually hoped it was Shay calling. He grimaced and looked at caller ID. Ryan.
“We’re at BJ’s,” Ryan said, not bothering with a hello. BJ’s was the country bar the Aces had started frequenting on Friday nights. “Where are you?”
Caleb opened his mouth to say he wasn’t in the mood and shut it again, when he thought of how pathetically he’d reached for his phone, hoping it was Shay. “I’ll see you there in half an hour.”
“Tell Kent Lori is here,” Ryan said and hung up.
That should be interesting. Kent had avoided Lori since the first night he’d met her, and Caleb was pretty sure it was about his rehab. He was embarrassed. Caleb decided he’d leave the part about Lori being at BJ’s as a surprise.
Caleb set his phone down on the counter, refusing to be held captive by a phone call that wasn’t going to come. “Get up, Kent. We’re going out.”
“Don’t tell me—someone wants to midnight jump and you said yes.”
“Nope,” Caleb said. “We’re going dancing, and I’m getting drunk while you’re still around to be my designated driver.”
***
AFTER A WEEK OF soul-searching and missing Caleb terribly, Shay was desperate. She knew she loved Caleb and she couldn’t bear the idea of losing him. So she went to the place she always went when she needed to truly soul-search. The place she’d been avoiding—she went home, to her mother.
The sweet scent of something yummy baking touched Shay’s nose and told her where to find her mother. Sure enough, Sharon White stood behind the kitchen counter, icing a freshly baked cake.
“Hi, Mom,” Shay said, trying to sound cheerful when she was aching inside.
Sharon’s eyes lit. “Hi, honey. You’re just in time to help me finish up my tiramisu. I met this amazing Italian baker on the trip who gave me his secret recipe. I can’t wait to see how it turns out. Oh, and guess what? I enrolled in cooking classes down at Central Market. I start next week. I think I might try and open a little bakery someday soon.”