“And I think if you were really in love with me, you’d commit to marrying me, and we’d figure out how to make it work.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No,” he said flatly. “I’m saying I love you enough to take a huge leap of faith into the future. You’re saying you’ll see how you feel once all the details are ironed out. This is exactly the way it was ten years ago.”
“It is not the same thing at all,” she said emphatically. “And I’m being reasonable,” she added, though her voice rose to a very unreasonable pitch when she said it.
“I guess that’s one perspective,” he said, yanking on his shirt and shoving his feet into his shoes. “I’ve got to pick up B.J. If I don’t see you before you leave, have a safe trip.”
Emily stared at him incredulously as he headed for the door. “That’s it. You’re just walking out?”
“I have to pick up B.J.,” he repeated. “And it wouldn’t hurt for me to cool down. I’d say I’ll have that accomplished by New Year’s, which ought to fit into your schedule perfectly.”
“You’re being a stubborn idiot,” she called after him.
“Pot, kettle,” he retorted, his voice fading as he went downstairs.
She heard his car start, then peel out of the driveway, spewing gravel undoubtedly.
“What just happened here?” she muttered under her breath, clutching a pillow in her arms.
She and Boone had gotten back together, had a few hours of being closer than she’d been to anyone in years, he’d proposed, they’d fought and now they were broken up? Not likely, she thought angrily.
Though how on earth she was going to fix things, or why it was even up to her to try, was pretty much beyond her right this second.
* * *
“Daddy, you look mad,” B.J. said hesitantly when he crawled into the car after school.
Boone forced a smile. “Not mad, just preoccupied,” he told his son.
“Did somebody mess up?”
That was one way of putting it, Boone thought. Now that his temper had cooled ever-so-slightly, it was hard to say if Emily was the one who’d messed up, or if he had. He had an uncomfortable feeling that at least a share of the responsibility belonged to him. He’d pushed too hard. He could see that so clearly now without the leftover glow of mind-blowing sex clouding his judgment.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” he assured B.J. “Want to stop for ice cream to celebrate your first day back at school? I want to hear all about your new teacher and the kids in your class.”
“Can Emily come, too?” B.J. asked. “I have to tell her what the other kids said about all the cool stuff we bought on Saturday.”
“She’s working this afternoon,” Boone said automatically, not eager for another confrontation quite so soon.
“But I bet she’ll take a break if we call her,” B.J. said, clearly not interested in being put off.
“I said no,” Boone snapped, then sighed at the immediate rise of tears in B.J.’s eyes. “Sorry. I just know she’s busy, son. Maybe you can give her a call later on and fill her in. I know she’ll want to hear all about your day.”
“When’s she leaving?”
“I’m not sure,” Boone admitted. “Tomorrow, I think.”
“Then I want to see her to say goodbye,” B.J. said stubbornly. “And she told me yesterday she has pictures of the ski lodge on her laptop. I want to see them. Forget ice cream. Let’s go to her house.”
Boone knew he could dig in his heels, play the parental card, insist it was ice cream or home, and end the conversation right now. A part of him recognized, though, that this might be the opportunity he needed to make amends for everything that had gone so horribly wrong earlier.
“We’ll stop by,” he relented. “But five minutes, that’s it. Understood? We can’t interrupt her when she needs to work.”
“Uh-huh,” B.J. said in an agreeable way that told Boone very clearly that he didn’t expect that five-minute rule to stick.
“Five minutes,” Boone repeated, as if the repetition would get his point across.
As soon as he pulled into Cora Jane’s driveway, B.J. was out of the car and racing across the lawn, yelling for Emily as he ran. The backdoor opened and B.J. threw his arms around her as if it had been weeks, rather than little more than a day since he’d last seen her. They’d all had Sunday morning breakfast together after Emily and Boone had come back here from their own sleepover.
Emily glanced in Boone’s direction, a questioning look in her eyes.
“Might as well face the music,” he muttered under his breath, getting out of the car.
“I didn’t expect to see you again this afternoon,” she said, her voice cool.
“B.J. insisted. He was afraid you might be leaving tomorrow.”
“That’s the plan,” she confirmed. “B.J., why don’t you go inside and look on the kitchen table? Grandmother brought home some cookies from the restaurant. She thought you might be coming by.”
“All right!” B.J. enthused with a fist pump.
Emily waited until he was safely out of earshot before lifting her gaze to meet Boone’s. “Cooled down?” she inquired mildly.
“Some.”
“Want to try that earlier conversation again?”
Boone shook his head. “Now’s not a good time. Why don’t I give you a call a little later?”
“Don’t you think we’re going to have to rely on too many phone calls when I’m out of town to be wasting precious face time now?”
He heard the intractable note in her voice and sighed. “Let me see if Cora Jane can keep an eye on him again,” he said, despite his reluctance to keep imposing on her.
“If you don’t want to ask her, Samantha’s in the kitchen, too. She’d be happy to spend some time with him. I can leave him with my laptop so he can look at the
