Page 94 of The Last Goodbye

“I didn’t take you as a quitter, Bass Bennett.”

I rolled my eyes. “Far from it. Just trying to do the right thing.”

“Since when?”

We both laughed.

“I’m leaving. Have a good night.”

“Remember, the best things don’t come easily. Some things are worth fighting for!” she called out as I held my hand over my head and waved.

I thought about what she’d said and soon found myself standing in front of Briar’s house. I rubbed my face and groaned.

Was I really going to do this?

She hadn’t responded to my text, so why the fuck was I here?

The thought didn’t stop me as I walked up to the front door and knocked. I felt like a complete asshole when she didn’t open the door.

I pulled out my phone and sent her a text.

Just stopped by to say hi…friend.

I feel like a complete stalker. I’ll stop bothering you if that’s what you want.

I stared at the screen and saw the three little dots moving around, and I waited anxiously before they disappeared.

Well, there you go. Rejection at its finest.

I walked home as the sky started to darken. When I arrived at my dock, I stepped onto my houseboat and startled when I saw Briar Sinclair, sitting on the couch on the exterior deck, with a picnic basket on the coffee table.

“Hey, McGrumpy. I guess we had the same thought, huh?” she asked, tilting her head to the side and smiling.

Damn, she was pretty. Her hair was tied up in a knot on top of her head, and she wore a pink tank top and a pair of jean shorts.

“How do you figure?” I crossed my arms and studied her.

“Well, you said you stopped by my house, and I stopped by yours.” She wet her pretty pink lips with her tongue.

“You could have responded instead of making me feel like a complete asshole.” I moved to sit beside her on the couch, relief flooding that she was here.

“I knew you were coming back here after, and it was supposed to be a surprise.”

“A surprise, huh?” I asked as I fought the urge to tug her onto my lap.

Every time I was around this woman, I wanted to touch her. Wrap my arms around her and pull her closer. Keep her next to me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you back yesterday. You were correct: I was avoiding you. I mean, outside of work.” She shrugged.

Wow. I hadn’t expected her to admit it, but I guess it was better than lying about it.

“You regret what happened between us,” I said, and it wasn’t a question; it was more of a statement.

“It’s complicated, Bass.”

“Regret and complicated are different things, Magpie.”

“Is that really what you think? That I regret what happened?” she asked, looking all kinds of offended, which pissed me the hell off.