Not Quite Dating
Page 55

He’d never told her he wanted a brother or sister. Hearing him talk about a sibling drove home how much she’d messed up with Jack.
“I thought you were going to live with me forever,” she teased her son.
He stopped shaking gifts and pondered her words. “But then who is going to live with my brother or sister?”
Oh, the mind of a five-year-old. “Good point,” she told him.
Danny switched back to his original topic. “Jack is going to love the car. He can watch SpongeBob with me in the backseat. Jack likes cartoons.”
“I’m sure he’d love it.”
What had she done? Maybe she should call him and see if he would talk to her. Then again, maybe he’d already left, went home to Texas. Regrets, remorse, and what-ifs plagued her every day, every night.
Christmas officially sucked this year.
Jack slid from the saddle and began the process of removing Dancer’s tack. The damp smell of hay and horseflesh permeated the walls of the massive barn. Smelled like home. Danny would love it here. The outdoors, the freedom to roam, ride, and explore.
The ranch house had been a great place growing up.
And Jessie…She’d light up like the red and green Christmas lights that twinkled around the edges of the house. The tired eyes she had following a long graveyard shift would drift away in a matter of days if she didn’t have to work so hard.
Damn, he wasn’t any further along in what he was supposed to do now than he was three hours ago. Jessie had turned him down. Maybe he should walk away. Give her what she wanted.
After brushing Dancer down, he turned him into his paddock and gave him a bucket of oats for his workout. The horse nudged his shoulder as if to say thanks.
As he was walking from the barn, Jack’s phone rang. Reception was spotty, so he stood still and took the call.
“This is Jack,” he answered, not recognizing the number.
“Mr. Morrison, this is Phil Gravis from Toyota.”
The car…He’d nearly forgotten about it.
“Hello, Mr. Gravis.”
“I wanted to tell you that everything went smoothly. Ms. Mann picked out a nice crossover that should serve her well for many years.”
“Good.” At least she wouldn’t be walking home from her dates. The thought of her with another man shot fire to his eyes. “No questions from her?”
“No, she seemed a little preoccupied through the entire process. Her sister seemed to be more suspicious.”
“Monica is sharp.”
“No argument there. She had to talk Ms. Mann out of taking a truck, which I thought was strange for a lady.”
Jack lifted his head, suddenly felt a chill race up his spine. “A truck?”
“Yeah, she kept peeking inside the bigger ones we have on the lot.”
“The bigger ones?” Why would Jessie want a truck?
“What does a woman like her need with a truck? She lives in an apartment.”
“An apartment.” Jack’s mind went fuzzy. Jessie wouldn’t need a truck. But broke Jack had an old, beat-up pickup.
“Are you there, Mr. Morrison?” Mr. Gravis asked.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“She did ask if there was a possibility of switching the car for the truck within a couple of weeks, or five hundred miles. I didn’t know what to say to her. You said to let her pick out what she wanted, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to pay the depreciation on one vehicle if she did bring the crossover back.”
A slow smile started at one edge of his mouth and spread to the other.
“Mr. Morrison?”
“Sorry, Mr. Gravis. I think Jessie’s preoccupied mind is contagious. Don’t worry about her bringing the car back. I have a feeling she’ll be keeping it.”
Jessie would give up a new car, something she desperately needed, to put him in a new truck. Or maybe she was thinking them…they could use a truck. “Thanks again, Mr. Gravis.”
“You’re welcome. It was fun. I felt like Santa giving away a car to an unsuspecting woman.”
Jack disconnected the call and walked a little faster to the house.
Beth, the housekeeper and cook, scolded him about taking his boots off before he “walked through her clean house.” The familiar rant made him smile even more.
“You may have been gone a long time, but the rules around here haven’t changed,” Beth said, waving her finger at him from the kitchen sink. Part of the reason the Morrison money didn’t shoot to Jack’s head was because his father employed down-to-earth people like Beth.
A few strong pulls and the boots found their way under a bench in the mudroom. “I see you’re just as feisty as ever,” he teased.
Beth, somewhere in her late sixties, graced him with a smile of her own. “I see your ride did you good. It’s nice to see you smile.”
Jack walked over to her and planted a kiss on her forehead.
“What on earth was that for?”
“For everything you do. I don’t think I’ve said thank you enough.”
Beth crossed her hands over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Have you been drinking?”
Jack tossed his head back, laughing. “Not today. Do you know where Katie is?”
“I think she’s in the den, fiddling with the Christmas tree.”
One more kiss and a wink and Jack went to search for his sister. Sure enough, she was in the process of rearranging the tree ornaments to her liking. Dressed in a big sweater and blue jeans, Katie looked more like the sister he’d grown up with. The flashy-dressing Katie never did sit well with him.