I said, "We'll talk when I get back, alright?"
"And when will that be?"
"A week, maybe sooner."
"Terrific." She sighed. "And when you get here, where exactly will you be staying?"
"At the crew house. Where else?"
"But don't you have your own condo?"
"Yeah, so?"
"So why don't you stay there instead?"
If I wanted to be a dick about it – which I didn't – I might've told her that I owned the crew house, which meant that I could stay there any time I wanted.
But this was Arden, and she meant something to me. And hey, if the situation were reversed – if she'd taken off with no warning – I'd be pissed, too.
With an effort, I softened my tone. "Because you're not at the condo."
"That's right," she said. "And I never was. Why is that?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," she said, "why is it that I never – not even once – saw the place that you call home?"
It was a good question, one I should've been asking myself. The truth was, the condo didn't feel like home. It never had.
But the crew house, it felt different, almost like a real home, even if I'd been living out of a duffle.
Giving it some thought, I suddenly realized why it felt different. It was because of Arden. She made the crew house – as unimpressive as it was – feel like something I'd never had.
Come to think of it, it was the same way with the house we were fixing up. And that place wasn't even livable.
Holy shit.
Home was where she was.
It was the only thing that made sense.
The realization was a kick to the gut, and I wasn't ready for it.
I got another nice kick when Arden informed me that if I was planning to return to the crew house, she'd be finding a different place to stay.
This wasn't what I wanted to hear.
Still, I tried to keep my cool. "Listen, I don't want you to go."
With a humorless laugh, she said, "Oh, I just bet."
The more she talked, the less I liked what she was saying. But I was the one who'd messed up, and I didn't want to make it worse.
What I wanted to do was hop on a plane and fix this, whatever it was. But I'd flown out to California for a reason, and the reason hadn't changed.
The house in wine country was next on our list, and it was dangerously behind schedule – even more so after an electrical fire had gutted its kitchen less than twenty-four hours ago.
I'd gotten the emergency call maybe an hour after leaving Arden's bedroom late last night.
Into the phone, I said, "So, you wanna hear why I left?"
"Where?" Now, she sounded ready to cry. "My bedroom? Or the state?"
Like a dumb-ass, I realized far too late that she hadn't been asleep. She'd been crying.
The realization cut me to the core. In a softer voice, I said, "Both."
"How about neither?" she said with a choked sob. "Because I'm just saying, I don't care."
"Baby—"
But already, she'd hung up.
Shit.
If she didn't care, she wouldn't be crying. And I wouldn't feel like a dick for hurting her.
I hadn't meant to. But I saw why she was upset. Last night, I'd been an ass. And then I'd left with no warning.
On top of that, she'd had a whole day of radio silence, giving her plenty of time to assume the worst.
I wanted to make it up to her.
Maybe what she needed was a nice surprise – something to make her smile until I returned to fix things.
A few phone calls later, it was a done-deal.
The surprise – she was going to love it.
Chapter 51
Arden
In the crew house living room, I woke to the sounds of knocking. It was a Saturday afternoon, and I'd fallen asleep on the living room sofa – mostly because I'd slept so badly after last night's tense conversation with Brody.
On the phone, I'd been awful to him, but I refused to regret it. After what I'd learned from my cousin, I should've called Brody every name in the book.
But I hadn't.
I was saving that for the next time I saw him – whenever that would be.
As I rubbed the sleep from my aching eyes, I got up and trudged to the front door. Without much enthusiasm, I opened it up, only to come face-to-face with someone I never expected to see today.
It was Cami.
Her auburn hair was tied in a loose ponytail, and she was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and white sneakers. With a happy smile, she squealed, "Surprise!"
Huh? For a long moment, I was so disoriented I forgot to smile back. With sleep-addled confusion, I took everything in – the sleek town car idling in the driveway, Cami standing out on the front porch, and the battered suitcase resting by Cami's feet.
I was still trying to make sense of everything when Cami lunged forward and gathered me up in a hug so tight, it took my breath away.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt myself smile. And then, I laughed.
Into her hair, I asked, "How'd you get here?"
It was a valid question. Since college graduation, Cami had been staying with her parents, who lived nearly three hours away in Petoskey. She had a car, but it wasn't what you'd call reliable. And forget hopping on a plane. Between security checks and the lack of nearby airports, flying would've taken twice as long.
Of course, it would've been better than taking a bus, which I knew all too well from my own pathetic experience.
In reply to my question of how she'd gotten here, Cami pulled back and pointed to the town car, still idling in the driveway. "I took that."
I shook my head. "A town car? Seriously?" Okay, yes, I realized that the unfamiliar vehicle had obviously brought her here. But from where?
The airport?
Or the bus station?
On the porch, Cami glanced toward the vehicle. "Is
