Truth or Beard(111)

He gave me his decidedly stormy gaze. “You’re asking too much. I can’t promise that.”

Again, I replayed his words in my head three times before I understood. When I did, I’m sure my expression mirrored the explosion of anger catching my brain on fire. I scrambled from the bed, taking the sheet with me, and stood over him as he yanked on his jeans.

“Why the hell not?”

“You know why not.”

“I don’t. I really don’t.” My hand fell against my thigh with an exasperated smack. “Sometimes you talk to me, and sometimes you don’t. You tell me you’ve been waiting for me, for five years, biding your time. You’re hell bent on courting me, but heaven forbid I give you a blow job! We make this deal for thirteen and a half months, meanwhile you’re straddling the line. I’m all in and you’re half in, half out.”

He stood from the bed, buttoning and zipping the fly of his jeans, and I lifted my chin to maintain eye contact. I decided he was too tall. And imposing. And unreachable.

“You’re leaving, Jess. You’re not all in. You’re dipping your toes in the water until it’s time to go.”

I felt that remark in my spine, between my shoulder blades like a knife.

It took me a moment, but I finally managed—albeit more loudly than I’d intended—to respond, “That is complete bullshit, Duane, and you know it. When have I ever given you any reason to think I’m not completely invested?”

“What I know is, when you leave, you can’t expect me to have friendly feelings about it. When you leave, you shouldn’t call me. Ever. Because I am not returning your calls. I won’t want to see or talk to you.”

This time the pain was in the front and the back, my spine and my chest, and I’m pretty sure I flinched. His words felt like a blow, a slap across the face, especially after what we’d just shared. I knew tears were gathering in my eyes but I didn’t care.

Duane studied my features only briefly before turning around and walking back to the table, like he couldn’t stand looking at me. I swallowed my emotion, but it continued to rise, making my scalp feel hot and my skin overly tight.

And then I heard his frustrated grumble, “This was a mistake.”

I couldn’t think. All the air had been sucked out of the room. I backed up to the mattress and sunk to it. He was a pendulum and I couldn’t keep up with his perpetual motion mood swings. One minute we’re cuddled up in bed and the next…

“I don’t understand.” I stopped, then decided just to say what I felt. “I don’t understand why you offered me a year when you obviously had no intention of following through. Can you explain that?”

He glanced at me, examining me from over his shoulder. He appeared to be confused by my question, or maybe the vulnerability behind it. Finally, he turned completely around, scratching his beard as he did so.

“Jess…” he started, released a short breath, his face screwed up like I was a lunatic, then began again. “Jessica, I know about your plans.”

“My plans?”

“Your brother told me about your aunt. About the money. About your plans.”

“What?”

“To leave. After Christmas.” These words were stated as cold fact.

“To…Christmas? What?” I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”

Duane stopped scratching his beard, but his eyes narrowed, like he was studying my reaction closely. “Your brother, Jackson. He pulled Beau and me over on our way home, Thursday afternoon, right after you and I finished talking. He told me you inherited all the money you’ll ever need for your world travels. He told me you were planning to start after Christmas.”

I blinked twice, shaking my head in an automatic rejection of at least half his words. “Well, that’s a lie.”

Duane straightened, his abruptly wide eyes evidence of his surprise.

I rushed to clarify. “Not all of it. I mean, my…aunt did leave me with money. From the looks of it, and with good investments, enough for me to travel the world and not work if I so decided. But I have no plans to leave Green Valley imminently, and certainly not just after Christmas.”

His eyes dimmed and his mouth flattened. “Why not?”

Now I studied him, how he appeared to be restraining himself, holding himself away from me, and everything clicked. He’d been so cold, so aloof when I’d told him I loved him. He thought I was leaving. He thought I was just going to leave and never come back.

“Wait a minute.” I jumped to my feet, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to decide which part of this tangled mess to address first. “You thought…and then you…and we just…” I gestured to the bed, and decided to settle on my last thought. “So Jackson tells you about the money and you assume things are over between us? Do I mean so little to you? Did you ever want me? Or was that a lie?”