In the Cards(97)

I return the helmet to the shelf and get into my Jeep. The roof’s already removed, so it’s ready to roll without any effort on my part. I’ll still enjoy a drive up the coast, even if not on my new bike. When I pull out of the garage, I notice the rental car still in Lindsey’s driveway. Are they talking or doing something else? Just the thought of her with him makes me see red. Without looking back, I pull onto the highway.

An hour later, I arrive in Santa Barbara and stop for lunch at Brophy Brothers to enjoy the clam chowder. The gorgeous day acts as a Band-Aid on my wounds, but the cut underneath’s still sore as hell. Normally the activity of the marina stimulates me. Today I notice couples and families—normal folks who have someone in their life who gives a damn. I’d always considered them suckers. Now I just feel jealous.

After lunch, I detour to Santa Ynez to stop in at Kalyra Winery. It’s a fun, casual place to sample wines and talk to strangers. It enjoyed a boost in popularity after being featured in the movie Sideways. Fortunately, today it’s hosting a blues and BBQ event, so it’s my lucky day. Promising to limit myself to the equivalent of two glasses of wine, I take a seat and enjoy the music.

Within ten minutes, I notice two young women vying for my attention. On the heels of Lindsey’s rejection this morning, my ego appreciates the flattery. Hell, I need it. I smile openly, signaling a willingness to receive their company. Ronnie, the redhead, is a stunning woman, while her brunette friend Callie is simply cute. Within a few minutes, Ronnie’s vanity becomes tiresome, though I find Callie’s shy flirtation to be sweet.

Turns out they’re from Vegas, so we discuss our experiences in that delinquent magnet. I haven’t been there since my pop died in May. I can hardly believe all that’s happened to me since.

Before Lindsey mattered to me, this day would have satisfied all my pleasure-seeking needs. Basking outdoors, enjoying good food and drink, romantic intrigue.

Sadly, now it’s leaving me empty. My thoughts slip once more to Lindsey, and how her company would’ve enhanced the entire day.

“Where’d you go?” Ronnie asks.

Her voice yanks me back to the winery. She’s leaning against me, brushing her breast against my arm. I’m so disinterested that the closeness of her body merely inspires annoyance. I turn to Callie. She has gentle eyes, like Lindsey’s. I surprise myself with the question that tumbles from my mouth.

“Have you ever fallen in love?” I sip the wine in my hand.

Her face registers humor and shock. When I stare, awaiting her response, she smiles pensively. “Once, but it didn’t end well,” she admits.

“What happened?” I’m curious now about a subject I’ve never discussed with anyone.

She looks embarrassed, but then shrugs.

“Basically, he dumped me.” She laughs it off, but I read the enduring pang of sorrow behind her eyes.

“Why, if you don’t mind my asking?”

She hesitates before launching into her story.

“He’d come in and out of my life, telling me he loved me, then stating he wasn’t ‘in’ love with me. He’d date someone else, then run back to me, claiming I was the only one who understood him, the only one he could talk with and be himself. Weeks later, he’d take off again. It would have hurt less if the breakup had been clean.”

She sighs and her eyes drift, her mind somewhere far away, before her attention resumes and she flashes a weak smile.

“Did he know how you felt about him?” I ask.

“Oh yeah, he knew.” She smiles. “I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve.”

“Like a fool,” interrupts Ronnie.

Callie rolls her eyes. “At least I don’t suffer from the ‘what ifs.’ ”

“ ‘What ifs’?” I ask.

“What if I had told him I loved him, what if I had tried harder, what if . . .”

What if I had told Lindsey I’m falling in love with her.

“Do you regret loving him?” I press, seeking insight from a stranger. Jesus, I’ve lost my mind.

“No.” She draws a slow breath. “We shared as many good moments as bad ones. My only real regret is that I took him back time after time. I wish I’d been stronger . . . respected myself more.”

She smiles at me even as Ronnie huffs at my diverted attention. “Is this why you’re sitting here, alone, drinking? Trying to get over someone?” Callie asks.

I raise one eyebrow, slightly embarrassed at being busted. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Let’s just say I’m having a major case of the ‘what ifs.’ ” I smile at her and drain my wineglass.