California Schemin' - Kate George [82]
“Who came up with the whole chest butting thing anyway? That’s got to be painful.”
“Proves their manliness.”
“What proves our manliness?” Jeremy, Meg’s sixteen-year-old son, was standing in the doorway.
“Chest butts,” I said.
“Chest butts? Bree, it’s chest bumps, not chest butts, and it’s about releasing adrenaline, not manliness. Why are you guys talking about chest bumps?”
“We’re thinking of taking it up,” I said.
“Yeah, right. You know what really proves our manliness?”
We shook our heads.
“Shaved heads. Makes guys look like giant dicks. Can’t get more manly than that.” Jeremy laughed at us and turned away, clumping up the stairs.
“What’s got into him?” I asked Meg. “He never used to say stuff like that.”
“He’s on the varsity basketball team. Apparently, they all talk like that. His dad says he’s going to crack down on him, but he won’t. I think he’s secretly pleased that Jer’s growing up. It’s pathetic.”
“So what’s been happening around here? Anyone dump their truck in the river?”
“Nah, everybody’s been concentrating on finding you. And when we discovered you were in California, about ten people volunteered to go help find you. Tom sent Steve, and the rest of us chewed our nails and ate too many donuts while we waited for you to show up.”
“Hey, I forgot to tell you. Shirl proposed to Steve Leftsky, and he accepted immediately. Smart guy. They’re going to get married in May.”
“No kidding. It’s about time.”
A day later I was in the office catching up on official reporter duties, which meant I was trying to figure out what to write about next. It was the hardest part of my job, searching the Internet for items of interest because not a thing was happening in town.
The door banged open, and Meg waltzed in.
“Beau’s downstairs in the coffee shop, and he wants to talk to you.” She was using the singsong voice she used when she was teasing me about men. I waited for her to start in on the whole he loves you, he wants your baby routine. When she didn’t, I shrugged and went down to the coffee shop.
He was sitting in a booth at the back, which I thought was kind of unusual. It was easier to sit at the front of the coffee shop when your leg was in a cast. I sat on the bench across from him, ready for some heavy duty flirting, but the look on his face stopped me.
“Okay, spit it out.” I tried to ignore the stone that had materialized in my stomach.
“I come home hoping for some peace while my leg is healing, and what happens? You get caught up in the dead woman thing again.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose”
“I don’t want to spend my life worrying about what’s happening to you. I can’t do this, Bree. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
“Can’t what? What are you saying exactly?”
“I can’t spend all my time worrying what I’ll find next time I see you. It’s not any better when we’re together, because then I’m worrying about what’s going to happen to me, too. Shit, those days in California when I was a hostage and didn’t know it were the most relaxing I’ve had since Jim dumped you. Not that I want you to go back to him. Actually, it would work better for me if you just stayed single.”
“It works better for you if I just stay single?” I was getting dumped again. No surprise. Well, a little surprise. I cast back through my previous dumpings. I was pretty sure this wasn’t the first time someone had wanted me to stay single. Men didn’t want to be with me, but they didn’t want anyone else to be with me either.
“If you’re single, then I don’t have to deal with my jealousy. I won’t be tempted to try and win you back. If you’re with someone, I have to stifle my urge to kill the bastard and take you back. It takes way less energy.”
“You want me to stay single so you don’t have to stop yourself from killing the guy I’m dating, but you don’t want to stay with me because you’ll have to worry too much?” My mind was reeling with the logic of it all, or maybe that was the lack of logic.
“Pretty much.”
“In other words your inability to deal with your emotions is my fault, and