Page 49 of This Time Around (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #3)

Her dad stood, too, frowning as he glanced at the still-unmoving guard. “You won’t do anything rash, will you?”

She shook her head, feeling sorry for him while at the same time wanting to grab the cactus in the corner and thread it up his nostril.

“I’m going to do the right thing,” she said. “After this long, that’s not rash at all.”

“Don’t put that in your mouth.”

“Sorry.” Allie handed the pen back to Wade, but he waved it off with a shudder.

“Keep it,” he said. “Now that it’s covered in your cooties.”

Allie sighed and set the pen down. “So now what happens?”

Wade folded his hands on his desk. “Now we wait for the county clerk to call us back and we go from there.”

“And I’m still within my acceptable window of time to post it in the newspaper.”

“Correct,” he said. “Do you want help with that?”

Allie hesitated. “I want to do it myself. I think—I think that’s important.”

Wade nodded. “Okay. Let me know if you need me to proofread.”

“Thanks.”

He reached across the desk and gave her hand a friendly squeeze. “You’re doing the right thing, Albatross.”

“Then why does it feel like I just hit myself in the forehead with a cricket bat?”

Wade cocked his head. “Have you ever held a cricket bat?”

“No.” She frowned. “I might be confusing it with that thing hockey players use.”

“A stick?”

“Right.”

“You’ve played hockey?”

Allie picked up the pen and tossed it at him. “It was a metaphor, Wade.”

“You used like , so technically I think it’s a simile.”

“I don’t care what it is. It feels lousy.”

“Right.” He grabbed the pen from where it had landed in the zen garden on the corner of his desk, which probably screwed up Allie’s zen six ways to Sunday. He set the pen back in his chrome desk organizer and looked at her. “Sometimes doing the right thing feels really fucking shitty.”

“That’s deep.”

“I’m a lawyer, not a guidance counselor.”

Allie chewed the inside of her lip and glanced up at the wall where Wade had all his law degrees in expensive-looking frames.

She remembered sitting here in this office six years ago, looking at those frames and imagining a future with the sort of man who’d earned those degrees.

A man who’d worked his way up the career food chain and had the fancy ties and the sleek leather office furniture to prove it.

“I did care about you,” she said, dragging her gaze to Wade.

He looked surprised, and Allie wondered if she’d said the words for his benefit or for her own.

“When we were together, I mean. I might not have loved you the way you’re supposed to love someone you marry, but I always thought you were an amazing guy. ”

“I am, of course.” He grinned at her, then leaned back in his chair. “Don’t sweat it, Albatross. No offense, but I never lost much sleep over us.”

“Ouch.”

“That didn’t hurt.”

“You’re right,” she admitted. “I wanted it to be right. With us, I mean. And the other guys.”

“The ones who weren’t Jack.”

She ignored him. “I guess I just got too caught up in looking for the puzzle pieces that seemed like the right color or pattern instead of looking for the one that actually fit.”

“Now that’s a metaphor.”

Allie shook her head. “I’m sorry about you and Skye.”

“It’s fine.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Water under the bridge.”

The breakup had been swift and amicable, only days after the pair had returned from their romantic beach getaway. Allie got the sense she was more upset about it than Wade or Skye were.

She sighed and propped her elbow on his desk, letting her chin sink to the back of her hand. “I still can’t believe you two are over.”

“Believe it, babe. It was good while it lasted, but the whole thing ran its course.”

“But that’s not how it was supposed to go!

” The vehemence in her voice and the smack of her palm on the desk made her sound a little crazed.

Wade raised an eyebrow, so she sighed and folded her hands on the desk.

“I just mean you two seemed so good together,” she said. “I thought this was really it.”

“Sometimes the story doesn’t end the way you think it will,” he said. “Doesn’t mean it was a bad story.”

“Will you please stop talking like a motivational card?”

He laughed and steepled his hands in front of him. “Heard from Jack lately?”

“No.” Heat crept into her cheeks, but she shook it off. “He won’t take my calls.”

“Need me to beat him up?”

“No. Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.”

“Good. I kind of liked the guy.”

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” Wade put a hand over hers. “That’s why you’re taking this so hard.”

Allie shrugged and looked away. “He was right, you know. I should have been straightforward with him from the start.”

“Probably,” he agreed. “But at least now you know that. You can admit it and say you’re sorry, while he’s still over there sulking like a little bitch.”

“Be nice,” Allie warned, though she felt more sad than angry.

“Sulking like a kid who dropped his Popsicle on the pavement,” Wade amended.

“That’s not any better.”

“That’s as good as I’m going to get.” He let go of her hands and placed his on either side, palms down on the polished wood. “You did your best, Albatross. You spilled your guts, you learned some lessons, and you did the right thing in the end. Now the ball’s in his court.”

“We’re back to the hockey analogies.”

“That’s a puck.”

“Whatever.” Allie frowned. “So you’re saying it’s over with Jack. That there’s nothing I can do.”

“I’m saying if you love someone, set them free?—”

“—if he comes back, it’s meant to be.” Allie rolled her eyes. “And if he doesn’t?—”

“I call in a client with mob ties and we fit the bastard with concrete galoshes.”

Allie folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

Wade grinned and leaned back in his chair. Picking up the little rake from his zen garden, he began making fine little lines in the sand.

“Have a little faith in the guy, Albatross. After this many years, I think he’s earned it.”