Someone Old: sweet contemporary romance (Jilted in Sawyer Creek Book 1) Read online

He didn't immediately hand it to her. She saw the impulse cross his face, the hint of orneriness. He was thinking about playing keep away.

  A dog barked in the background, the noise growing louder and louder from the backyard.

  Finally Jax pressed the key into her palm, his fingers hot against her skin. "You sure you don't want some help? He sounds big." He tipped his head to one side, toward the sound of the yelping, which had now grown desperate.

  "I'm sure." She didn't need help. Not from Jax. Not even if that dog were the size of a grizzly.

  She unlocked the door, dragged her dress along, and slipped inside, shutting Jax out.

  She probably should have thanked him, but she didn't feel thankful.

  She felt broken. Nicholas had broken her heart, and having Jax around was shredding whatever shards were still intact.

  Jax should just drive back to Dallas. Obviously, Claire would be happy if he disappeared.

  But he'd seen her fragility beneath the sharp exterior.

  And that fragility was the reason he drove to the little diner they'd passed on the short drive from the hospital.

  "We're closing up!" called a voice from the long rectangular window behind the counter.

  He glanced at his wristwatch and then around the empty restaurant. Seriously? It was still early. Diners in the city would be open for another two hours, or even all night.

  A door swung open, and a woman emerged from the kitchen. She wore jeans and a T-shirt with the logo of the diner across the front.

  She looked surprised to see him still standing there. She jangled a huge set of keys in one hand. "Closing."

  He put on his most charming smile. "I need a favor. I'm willing to make it worth your while." He dug in his hip pocket for his wallet.

  She didn't look impressed. Only suspicious.

  "My friend’s had a rough day. Let’s just say the trip to the hospital with her father was the icing on a very bad cake. I was wondering if you could whip her up something real quick."

  Her eyes went wide. "You mean Claire? You must be the guy who broke up her wedding. That baseball player."

  What? Had the news really made it through town already? Small-town dynamics were nothing to mess with. Maybe this hadn't been such a brilliant idea after all. "I didn't break up her wedding. Her dad's in the hospital." He kept silent about the missing groom.

  He pulled out a hundred dollar bill and plunked it on the counter. "Can you help me out?"

  She stared at him for so long he started to get uncomfortable. This had been a bad idea.

  But then she swept past him, scooping up the Benjamin on her way back into the kitchen. "Give me ten minutes," she threw over her shoulder.

  He was left standing in the empty diner, too silent. Nothing to distract him.

  I don't have a home.

  What had possessed him to say that?

  He'd played it off with something about how much cash he'd spend on a new house in Dallas. But the initial words had been true.

  The place he'd grown up in would never qualify as a home, and he'd stopped calling it that even as a kid. He'd left at sixteen and hadn't looked back. Which made it ironic that his dad had been calling or texting at least four times a day since the news had broken about his major league deal.

  During his two years at junior college, he'd lived in the cheapest off-campus apartment he could find. He'd never had company over to see the sparse, picked-up-off-the-roadside furnishings. That hadn't been home, either.

  And when he'd gotten his minor league deal, he'd had his shiny new agent help him find an apartment in New Jersey. He hadn't been raking in the dough, but it'd been the nicest place he'd ever lived.

  He'd been happy chasing his dreams of the bigs, or so he'd told himself. Until the words had popped out—I don’t have a home—he hadn’t realized that something was still missing for him.

  Or maybe he was just tired and getting fanciful.

  When the waitress brought a white to-go bag, he thanked her and got out of there. Somehow he knew that Claire wouldn't appreciate it if word got out that he was delivering food to her.

  He drove back to her dad's house, but she didn't answer the door.

  He tried the knob. Unlocked. Seriously. Small towns...

  The house wasn't that big. He peeked in the rooms, but they were empty. No sign of life. He strode through the kitchen, leaving the bag on the table, and out the back door, where he found her sitting on the back step, one arm around a Labrador-sized dog.

  The dog sensed him first, jumping up and approaching with a wildly wagging tail. He nosed Jax's thigh.

  Claire stood, whirling to face him. "What're you doing—? You can't just walk in—out here."

  "The front door was unlocked."

  She frowned fiercely.

  That's when he noticed she'd been crying. She caught his stare and attempted to wipe her cheeks, but it was too late.

  That electric pull urged him to reach for her.

  He didn't.

  "I brought some food from the diner. In the truck, your stomach was growling so loud it was overpowering the radio."

  She pressed her hands to her face, shook her head. "I can't get rid of you."

  She could. He'd go if she asked him again.

  But she put her hands on her hips, her chin jutting out defiantly. "Why did you come here? I want the truth."

  This might be his one chance to get her to listen. He wasn't even sure what had prompted him to come, to seek her out. His head was still buzzing with the I don't have a home. He didn't know how to explain the mishmash of emotions crashing through him.

  Her eyes never left his face.

  So he told her. "I thought getting into the majors would fix what was broken inside me. And it's amazing, but... there's still something missing. I think it's because I still have feelings for you."

  Her eyes went wide. She didn't say a word, just stared at him.

  And then she shook her head. Shook herself out of whatever place she'd been stuck in. "I don't—I don't want your feelings."

  The breath rushed out of him in one long exhale. He'd expected a rejection, more so after discovering exactly what he'd interrupted earlier. It still hurt.

  But he stuffed his emotions away, because it was obvious she was still overwhelmed by her own.

  "I want Nicholas," she said. "I need to find him. Talk to him."

  Both of them were surprised when Jax said, "Okay. I'll help you find him."

  Chapter 3

  Claire pressed the giant, plastic-covered poof of tulle down beside her on the bench seat of Jax's truck.

  As they pulled up to the B&B, there was still light shining from a few of the windows. Unlike earlier, only a handful of cars remained in the parking area, including Dad's and her own.

  Thankfully, that meant there were only a few people left for Claire to steer clear of.

  She didn't need the entire population of Sawyer Creek whispering about how she'd dragged her sad bag of crushed wedding dreams back into the inn. Nicholas had moved his practice here. The last thing he needed was the town gossiping about his non-wedding. Or Claire being seen with another man.

  She didn't see Nicholas's SUV in the parking lot, but if she was going to find him, she needed her phone. And maybe she'd find Shelby inside.

  It felt strange, to say the least, to be on the hunt for her missing groom with her ex-college fling.

  Missing groom. The thought sucker-punched her as Nicholas's written words continued to assault her.

  We never should've let things get this far.

  What did that even mean?

  Her belly was full—Jax had taken care of that with a turkey melt and french fries from the diner—and now he was delivering her back to the scene of the crime, as it were.

  She tried to ignore the man, who'd followed her out of his truck and up the stairs to the huge wraparound porch. She headed for the side door first to see if it was unlocked, hoping she could sneak in and avoid being seen by a
nyone who'd stayed to gawk.

  "So, how'd you and good 'ol Nick meet?" Jax had been mostly-silent while they'd downed the food standing in her dad's kitchen and then on the way here.

  I think I still have feelings for you. Claire was still reeling from his revelation. How could he walk back into her life and declare such a thing just a few hours later? They hadn't seen each other in three years.

  "Nicholas and I met just after my junior year. Quinn set us up, actually."

  "Good 'ol Quinn." Sarcasm laced his words.

  He'd said something similar earlier, but it had sailed past her in the blur of caring for her father. She'd forgotten how he and Quinn had butted heads when she and Jax had dated.

  "Quinn stuck," she said. You didn't.

  Claire tried not to think about the dark place she'd spiraled to after Jax had left. She'd had no desire to go to class. Couldn't focus. Studying became difficult when, prior to that, it'd been as easy as breathing.

  Quinn had gotten her through it, mostly by pushing Claire to get out of bed on days when she wanted to stay in her cocoon and rot.

  She was never going back there. She and Nicholas had a healthy relationship. They knew each other's preferences and life goals. They knew the number of kids they wanted when they were ready to start a family in a few years. There were no secrets, no surprises—at least there hadn't been until she'd received his note earlier today.

  Even so, she didn't feel the shadows lurking, waiting to overtake her if she didn't find him. Not like the pit of desperation that had opened up and swallowed her alive when Jax had left.

  It was because she still had hope. Her hope was keeping that darkness away.

  She loved Nicholas just as much—more!—than she'd ever loved Jax. Not that it was a competition. Nicholas was in her life. Jax wasn't.

  All they needed to do was sort out whatever had given her groom a case of cold feet.

  They walked across the porch, their steps loud on the wood floor. After she pushed open the B&B's side door, she stepped into the kitchen and found Quinn in a lip-lock with Wilder.

  Her gasp sent the two of them springing away from each other.

  Wilder ran one hand through his hair and down to the back of his neck. He didn't look repentant in the least.

  Quinn had gone peony pink, her eyes darting away from Claire's. Unfortunately, she looked right behind Claire. To Jax, of course, though Claire didn’t look to see him. She could feel him there.

  "What are you doing here?" Quinn demanded.

  "How you doing, Quinn? You know, I've been getting that question all day." Jax's hand settled on Claire's hip, his touch warm through the thin layer of the scrubs she wore. He gave her a gentle nudge, and she stepped further in and glanced back.

  He shut the door against the June bugs that rattled against the ceiling.

  She wrangled her wadded up dress. Her skin scalded where his hand had been. Not good.

  Wilder and Jax were doing some kind of stare-down. In her peripheral vision, Claire saw Jax give one of those chin-jerks that only a man could pull off. Wilder's eyes narrowed on him. "Aren't you that baseball guy?"

  Rookie of the year, Dad had predicted. It seemed Jax was getting everything he'd wanted.

  "Can I talk to you?" Quinn hissed. She took Claire's elbow and marched her down the hallway, away from the stairs that Claire desperately wanted to take up to her room.

  "What is he doing here? Where have you been? You just disappeared! Please tell me he's not the reason Nicholas ran off this morning."

  Claire's jaw dropped at the accusation. "What? No! He has nothing to do with anything."

  Quinn was shooting daggers over Claire's shoulder. Claire could hear the two men talking quietly behind her.

  Quinn focused back on her, genuine concern in her expression.

  Claire wilted against the wood-paneled wall. "I don't know why Nicholas left. Have you seen him at all?"

  Quinn shook her head, eyes serious. "Wilder and I looked for him earlier. We tried to ask around as covertly as possible, but I don't think we fooled anyone. Then you disappeared, too, and we had to tell the guests something."

  Claire closed her eyes briefly, pained. "Tell me."

  "We just said there wasn't going to be a wedding today and sent them home. There was a lot of murmuring, people asking questions, and I'm sure word is already around town."

  Yeah, she knew.

  "Is your dad all right? Why didn't you call me?" Quinn squeezed Claire's hand.

  Exhaustion was crashing over her after such an emotional day. She rubbed her temple with one hand. "I didn't have my phone. And I couldn't remember your new number. He's okay. They're keeping him overnight."

  "Are you all right?" Quinn asked, aiming another glance at Jax. "Are you sure he had nothing to do with today?"

  "He had nothing to do with Nicholas disappearing. He showed up and helped me with Dad. And..." She shrugged. Jax had waited for her in the ER. Brought her food. Taken care of her.

  She didn't know what she was doing.

  "I need to find Nicholas," she said, her voice weary. "And change clothes. And get my phone. Do you know where Shelby is?"

  Quinn bit her lip. Something had happened with Shelby?

  Claire narrowed her eyes at her friend.

  "She, ah... caused a bit of a scene earlier. Just before Wilder told everyone that there wasn't going to be a wedding. I know she promised not to... it was embarrassing. For her."

  She had promised. Nicholas's sister was five years younger than Claire, but they'd always hit it off, even if Claire didn't understand her penchant for the spotlight. Wasn't being an up-and-coming music star enough? Claire had felt sure something had changed for Shelby in the past few weeks. She'd arrived for the rehearsal quiet and subdued, and she’d taken Nicholas and Claire aside to assure them there would be no drama during their wedding weekend.

  "Do you know if she's still here?" The bridal party had rooms reserved for the entire weekend.

  "I think she left," Quinn said. "I'm not sure if she was going back to her mom's place or heading out for good."

  Nicholas's mother's home was the first place Claire intended to start looking. If Shelby was there, Nicholas might be, too. Or maybe the girl would know where her brother was. "Wilder hasn't heard anything from Nicholas?" The two brothers had never been that close, but if anyone could track him down, it was Wilder.

  Quinn shook her head. "He's left several voicemails, but..."

  But Nicholas didn't want to be found.

  Claire glanced over her shoulder, avoiding Jax's gaze for now. She couldn't help but notice that Wilder couldn't keep his eyes off of Quinn.

  She turned back to her friend. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked, her voice low.

  A blush spread up her friend's face. "No!" Quinn whispered emphatically. "We were pretending and then we weren't and now..." She shrugged, but her face was lit from within.

  Claire clasped Quinn's hands and gave them a squeeze. "I'm happy for you." At least she could still feel that, when her other emotions seemed to have gone numb.

  "I'll help you search for Nicholas," Quinn said. "I can catch up with Wilder later."

  Claire squeezed her friend's hands and let go. Another quick look over her shoulder showed Wilder's eyes, hungry for Quinn.

  Quinn deserved some happiness after the debacle with her ex. Besides, Claire wasn't even sure if she could find Nicholas. But she had to try. "I'm good. I'm going upstairs to get my phone. I'll call if I need you."

  She slipped upstairs with only a quick wave at Jax. It'd be for the best if he left. Having him here put her off-kilter.

  Upstairs, she slipped into her room, and tears pricked the back of her eyes at all the pre-wedding detritus strewn around. Her suitcase was wide open next to the bed, holding the clothes she'd taken off this morning just before she'd donned the special robe with bride embroidered across one shoulder. The robe lay across the end of the bed, where she'd tossed it when,
with Quinn's help, she'd stepped into her wedding dress. Makeup, bobby pins, hair spray canisters... There was her phone. She moved toward the long, low dresser, avoiding her reflection in the mirror.

  She'd been avoiding mirrors ever since she'd gotten Nicholas's note. Maybe it was time.

  Pressing her fingers against the cool surface of the dresser, she forced her chin up, forced her eyes to meet her own gaze.

  Funny. She didn't look like the train wreck she felt inside.

  She just looked... tired. Exhaustion lined her mouth, and the hair that had been so artfully arranged in a knot behind her head was now drooping.

  Avoiding her phone for the moment, she reached up and started taking pins out. One, two... faster and faster until her hair was cascading around her shoulders, wavy from the copious amounts of hairspray they'd used to secure it.

  There was the Claire she'd expected to see. The Plain Jane who needed dresses to prove her femininity and kept her from wearing the jeans she loved.

  Was that why Nicholas had abandoned her? Because he'd seen beyond her pretense?

  She hadn't been enough to keep Jax's interest, either. Or her dad's.

  Her dad had walked out on their family when Claire had been twelve. She'd never gotten over that wound. Never stopped wondering why he hadn't loved her enough. All these years later, and she still wasn't sure she could forgive him. It was why their relationship was so contentious, even though she'd tried to allow him back into her life.

  And Jax... When he'd walked away in favor of his baseball career, the pit she'd fallen into had echoed the refrain at her: You're not enough, you'll never be enough. No one loves you enough to stay.

  She'd thought Nicholas was different.

  But maybe... maybe it was her.

  Maybe that inner voice was right.

  The numbness she'd been using to keep all the dark thoughts away had vanished as she'd gazed on herself in the mirror.

  She broke down and sobbed into her hands.

  Jax knocked softly on the door. When he'd first arrived early in the afternoon, he'd gotten a glimpse of Claire in the window in her wedding finery. Of course, he hadn't known it was her at the time, and the distance had been too far to see details clearly, but he judged that this had to be the right room.