Page 37 of This Time Around (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #3)

No one answered, so Jack knocked again. He was on the brink of ringing the bell when he heard a thud on the other side of the fence. Frowning, he walked to the edge of the yard and approached the gate. It was slightly ajar, so Jack pushed it open and stepped into the backyard.

The second he saw Allie, he realized this was about to be more awkward.

“Allie, hi.” He looked her up and down, trying to keep his own reaction in check as she stared down at him from the edge of the deck. “Um, wow.”

“What?” Her tone was flat.

“I’ve never seen you wear combat fatigues before.”

She flipped up the visor on the helmet she wore, revealing a guarded expression and one very bruised eye. “Can I help you?”

Jack’s stomach lurched. “Oh my God. Are you okay?” He moved closer, stepping up onto the deck for a closer look. “Who the hell gave you a black eye?”

“The stupid woodpeckers!”

He blinked, then looked her up and down again. The camouflage getup wasn’t something she’d picked up at a local hunting store. It looked old, maybe vintage military. Jack returned his gaze to her face, wincing as he took in the shiner again.

“A woodpecker hit you in the face,” he said slowly, trying to understand.

“No,” she said with exaggerated patience. “The woodpeckers made holes in my house, so I went up to the attic and found all this camo gear and an old BB gun, so I thought maybe I could take care of the woodpecker problem the old-fashioned way.”

“With a BB gun.”

“Right.” She reached behind her and lifted the weapon, and Jack took a step back. “But not only did I miss, the gun backfired the first time I tried to shoot it and it hit me in the face.”

“Jesus,” he said, wishing he could reach out and soothe her bruised skin. But he sensed his touch wouldn’t be welcome at the moment. “That’s awful.”

“And then the cops showed up, because apparently it’s illegal to fire a pellet gun in the city limits,” she continued. “So now, on top of a black eye, I have a police record.”

“They arrested you?”

“Of course not.” She waved a hand, looking wild and a little desperate. “But now there’s a record out there of the police coming to my house and talking to me, which is pretty much the same thing.”

“Pretty much.” Part of him wanted to hold her. Part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Most of him managed to hold it together as he stood there on her back deck trying to keep a straight face. “Were you really going to shoot a woodpecker?”

She gave a heavy sigh. “Probably not. But I did think I could hit the fence near one and maybe scare it away.”

“What did you hit instead?”

“I shot the nipple off my neighbor’s Venus pond statue.”

“Ouch.”

“They weren’t amused.”

“Probably best you only got one shot off,” he said. “I think your aim might leave something to be desired.”

“Right. Well, I should probably get back to?—”

“Allie, can we talk for a minute?”

“What for?”

“I wanted to talk about that text message.”

“What text message?”

He sighed. “Nice try. Can we maybe sit down or something?”

“Actually, I’m kind of busy.”

“Could you at least put the gun down then? I wanted to talk to you.”

She seemed to hesitate, then lowered her weapon, such as it was. “What?” He heard her try to infuse the syllable with anger and bravado, but it came out sounding defeated. It was enough to buoy him just a little.

“Allie, I didn’t send that text message this morning. The one that said I made a mistake?”

She glared at him. “What are you talking about? Is your phone in the habit of sending regretful morning-after messages all by itself?”

“No,” he said slowly. “But my ten-year-old daughter is in the habit of using it to send her own regretful morning-after messages after she drops her own phone in the sink.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You text-dumped my kid, not me.”

All the color seemed to drain from Allie’s face. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. Want to reread the message in that context?”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond, whipping his phone out of his pocket before she could say anything.

He flicked it on and scrolled quickly to the text messages.

“Here, take a look. ‘Made a mistake.’” He held it out to her, forcing her to take it.

“The mistake was taking her phone into the bathroom when I’ve repeatedly told her not to. ”

“Oh.”

“And ‘Plz don’t text me, K?’ First of all, did you honestly think I’d give you the brushoff with improper English?”

Allie sat staring at the screen, eyes fixed on the words there as she took them in with this new context. “That did seem weird,” she admitted.

“Come on, Allie.” He held out his hand, and she handed his phone back. Jack shoved it back in his pocket, relieved to see the softening in her expression. “You know me. Would I really text you something like that the morning after we slept together?”

The color seemed to come rushing back to her face, or maybe that was just the bruise setting up.

“That’s just it, Jack. I don’t know you.

Not anymore. Hell, text messaging wasn’t even a thing when we dated.

I have no context for how you operate in a modern relationship.

For all I know, this is how you blow off all your one-night stands. ”

“It wasn’t a one-night stand,” he said. “Not to me, it wasn’t.”

He waited for her to respond. To tell him she felt the same, and that maybe there was hope of them spending more time together in the future. She seemed to hesitate, and he remembered what his mother had said about Allie’s pride sometimes getting in the way. Maybe he could make this easier.

“Look, Allie. Last night was unexpected. It was amazing. It wasn’t something I was thinking about when I looked you up a couple weeks ago, I’ll be honest. But I really want to see where things might go.”

She still hadn’t said anything, and Jack wondered if he’d overstepped. If she really had meant it when she’d said it was a mistake. He was sweating again, and he wished he knew better how to read this modern version of Allie. When she spoke at last, her voice was quiet.

“I didn’t mean it,” she said.

He swallowed hard, hoping she meant this morning’s text message and not everything the night before. “You mean about last night being a mistake?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I was pretty hurt when I thought that’s what you were telling me.”

“I’m sorry you thought that. I can see why you would.”

They stood there in awkward silence for a few beats, and Jack wondered where this round of apologies left them. Were they back where they’d ended last night, or someplace new?

When Allie reached for his hand, something surged inside him. “I’m glad you came here,” she said. “Not just right now, though that’s good, too. I mean I’m glad you’re back in Portland. I’m glad you looked me up.”

“Me, too.”

“And I’d like to keep seeing you.” She bit her lip. “I mean—if that’s what you want.”

“I want.” He smiled at her. “I really like you, Allie. A whole lot. More than I did when I loved you.”

She laughed out loud and brushed her hair from her face. “Same here. I like you a lot more than when I loved you.”

He leaned in to kiss her, then bonked his head on the damn visor.

“Ow.”

“Hang on,” she said, and wrestled the helmet off her head. “There, that’s better. Pucker up, buttercup.”

“Such a romantic,” he muttered, but bent to kiss her anyway.

The kiss was slow and soft and sweet and left him wishing she’d invited him inside so they could see where this went. But he couldn’t stay. He had to get home to?—

“Paige,” he said, breaking the kiss.

“Um, what?”

“My daughter.”

She stared at him. “I’m aware that your daughter is Paige. I’m just not sure what that has to do with kissing me.”

Jack raked his fingers through his hair. “No, I just remembered. Paige wanted me to set a time with you to go bra shopping. Are there any afternoons this week that might work for you?”

Allie reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

She tapped the screen a few times, then began scrolling.

“Well, my boss insisted I take a few days of bereavement leave this week, but I was planning to use it to repaint the downstairs bathrooms and maybe go see my parents. In between prison visits, I need to find time to get my hair trimmed and do some grocery shopping.” She glanced up and gave him a small smile.

“Also, I still have to pencil in a time to fight your sister-in-law.”

Jack stifled a groan. “She sent me another apology this morning.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waved a dismissive hand, then looked back at her phone. “I have an early meeting on Thursday, which means I could leave work by three-thirty or four. What if I picked Paige up right after that?”

“I can drop her off here to make it easier. And thanks, Allie. Really. This means a lot to her. And me.”

“No problem.” She shoved her phone in her pocket and looked at him again, her expression somewhere between amused and contemplative.

“You know, when I imagined our fairytale happily-ever-after together, I didn’t picture myself wearing combat fatigues and talking with you about buying a training bra for the daughter you had with another woman. ”

“Ooof,” he said. “Sorry you didn’t get your fairytale.”

“It’s okay,” she said, though her expression was still wistful. “Fairytales are probably overrated.”

“True enough.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles, the courtliest gesture he could muster. “But maybe if you keep kissing me, I’ll turn into a prince.”