“Yeah, okay. It was just a thought, but I’m sure you know best.” He opened the door. “Good night, Kim. See you around.”
“Tate?”
He hesitated, half in, half out the door. He didn’t look at her, not wanting her to see that his feelings were foolishly hurt by her rejection.
Maybe she sensed it, anyway. “I just want you to know that if it weren’t for Daryn—well, I wouldn’t be sending you away tonight. And I wouldn’t have said no to a pizza or a movie with you. It isn’t that I don’t want to spend more time with you. It’s that I just can’t.”
He nodded and closed the door behind him on the way out, only partially appeased.
He was being ridiculous to be so annoyed, he told himself as he climbed into his truck and closed the door harder than he should have, considering the late hour. Technically, he agreed with Kim. She wasn’t in a position to have a fling, even had she been interested, and he wasn’t looking for more right now. Yet no matter how often he reminded himself of those facts, it still irked him that she’d shot him down when he had tentatively suggested they spend more time together.
Must be a male pride thing, he told himself as he drove away from her house. Though his ego had certainly gotten
a boost from her earlier in the evening, all she’d had to do was decline his suggestions to deflate it again. He hadn’t realized his feelings were quite so delicate when it came to Kim.
He reached out to flip the turn signal level and a glint of gold on his hand reflected a passing streetlight, catching his attention. He realized he still wore his grandfather’s wedding band. The ring had felt odd at first, since he rarely wore jewelry other than a serviceable watch. Sometime during the past thirty-six hours or so, he’d grown accustomed to it being there.
He’d forgotten to leave the usual lamp burning in his apartment, so the rooms were dark when he unlocked the door and let himself in. He didn’t bother with lights when he crossed the living room into his bedroom; enough illumination filtered in through the blinds for him to find his way easily through the familiar path. Dropping his bags on the floor of the bedroom, he crossed to the dresser where he kept the box for his grandfather’s ring in a drawer with a few other miscellaneous, mostly sentimental treasures.
For several long moments, he studied the ring on his hand. And then he removed it, stuffed it into its box and closed the drawer with a snap that echoed through the quiet room.
* * *
When Kim’s phone rang the next afternoon, her heart beat a bit too quickly as she answered it. She glanced at the ID screen and told herself she was relieved to see Lynette’s number. It wasn’t that she was expecting anyone else to call, she assured herself quickly. Lynette was simply the least problematic of the list of potential callers just then.
“Hi, Lynn.”
“My place. Five o’clock. I’m making veggie lasagna. Don’t say you can’t come, I’ve already started cooking and you know how I hate to cook. Em and I want to hear all the juicy details.”
“But I—”
“Five o’clock,” her friend repeated. “Emma’s bringing dessert. You pick up a loaf of French bread. We’ll smear butter and garlic on it and pop it in the oven here. Tell Daryn to bring her own bottle.”
Kim smiled ruefully. She knew when she’d be wasting her breath to argue. Besides, she supposed she’d just as soon spend some time laughing with Lynette and Emma than sitting in her living room trying not to think about Tate. She needed to return the wedding band, anyway. “All right. I’ll be there.”
“Of course. See you.”
Lynette disconnected without further ado, leaving Kim laughing. “Looks like we have plans for this evening,” she told Daryn, who sat on the floor with her favorite toys gathered around her.
“Mamamama.”
“Why, yes, I will have to be careful about what I say,” Kim mused aloud. “Lynette might pretend to be a bit of a ditz at times, but she sees a lot more than she lets on.”
Daryn blew a raspberry, then giggled at her own wit.
Kim wondered if Lynette had already talked to her brother. She wondered what Tate had said if they’d spoken. She wondered if he was thinking of her at that moment the way she was thinking of him.
And then she wondered in irritation if she was losing her mind.
“Let’s go into the kitchen, sweetie,” she said, scooping her daughter from the floor. “You can sit in your high chair and eat puffed snacks while I pack something for your dinner tonight.”
Daryn seemed perfectly happy with that plan.
After a quick stop at her favorite bakery for a loaf of good bread, she made the short drive to Lynette’s apartment complex. With the ease of experience, she threw the strap of the diaper bag over her shoulder, balanced Daryn on her hip and tucked the big loaf of bread beneath the other arm. She closed the car door with her free hip and locked it with the remote fob before heading toward Lynette’s door.
Her friend’s apartment opened to the outside on the top floor of the three-story building. There was no elevator, so Kim climbed the two flights of metal stairs leading up to the top landing. Lynette’s was the last door down.
Kim paused at the end of the landing to admire the scenery. The immaculately landscaped complex grounds ended at a raised, grassy levy, beyond which lay the south bank of the swiftly flowing Arkansas River. Tall rock bluffs rose on the other side of the river; to the east lay downtown Little Rock. To the west lay the 4,226-foot long pedestrian and biking structure known as the “Big Dam Bridge” over the Murray Lock and Dam. Before she’d had Daryn, Kim had biked across that bridge many times, enjoying the view from ninety feet above the river surface. She had little time for biking these days, though she hoped to buy a bike seat for Daryn next spring and get back out on the trails.