Was it him, or had it gotten a little hot in here?
“I’m Jo Trellis,” the woman said. “Of Jo’s Bar.”
“You,” he said loudly. “Finally. I’ve been trying to talk to you for days. You won’t take my calls or return them. You’re never around when I stop by.”
She looked more amused than chagrined. “What can I say? I’m elusive.”
“You’re putting me out of business.”
“Back at you.”
They stared at each other.
Kipling figured it had been her town first. “I’m sure we can find a solution to this problem.”
“I’ve heard you like fixing things. So sure. Fix this one. We all take care of each other. If you wanted to open a bar that competed directly with me, you should have talked to me first. Or someone. But you didn’t. You stomped in and did your thing without considering anyone else.”
“Hey, wait. It wasn’t like that. The guys around here don’t have anywhere to go. Your place caters to women.”
Her chin rose. “Tell me how that’s bad.”
Oops. “It’s, ah, not. Women should have a bar where they can be comfortable. But so should guys. That’s all I was doing.” He thought about the town and how involved everyone was. “I didn’t think about talking to you. I’m not from here.”
“Not much of an excuse. You should learn how to have a conversation. Words matter.”
He was starting to see that. They’d mattered with Carter, they mattered with Jo. Didn’t it make sense they would matter with Destiny, too? She’d told him she loved him, and what had he said in return? Not a thing.
He thought about everything that was wrong right now. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you first. I should have. For what it’s worth, you’ve won. My partners have pulled out, and Nick says we can’t make it solely on tourist dollars.”
Jo shifted from foot to foot. “Yeah, well, about that. I might have made a few phone calls. I wanted to make a little trouble, but I didn’t anticipate how seriously my friends would take my concerns.”
“You didn’t mean to shut me down?”
“Hell, no. I was going to talk to you. Jo’s does a good business, but I’m tired of working sixteen-hour days. I have a hot husband at home I’d like to spend more time with. I’m going to call off the ladies. Your partners will come slinking back. Jo’s Bar is going to be open five days a week and close at seven in the evening. You can have the nights.”
She held out her hand. He shook it. “Remind me never to go up against you again,” he said.
“You got that right. Tell Nick to expect a crowd tonight. I’m going to make some calls.”
* * *
DESTINY CROSSED THE shallow stream. On the other side, she confirmed the GPS signal was still strong. While she enjoyed a day hike as much as the next person, she didn’t want to have to retrace her steps.
She paused for a drink of water. Tall trees offered shade overhead and kept the temperature comfortable, but she was in her third hour of hiking and getting a little tired.
She was out of shape, she thought. She hadn’t been exercising as regularly. That was going to have to change. She had to stay healthy for two. Something she couldn’t mention to Kipling, she thought with a smile. Before she finished speaking, he would have designed a program and signed her up with a trainer.
No, he wouldn’t, she thought, her smile fading. Because they weren’t together anymore. She’d ended things pretty abruptly, and she hadn’t heard from him since.
She missed him, she admitted. A lot. There was a hole in her life and maybe in her heart. A Kipling-size one. She missed how he visibly brightened when she walked in the room. How he listened and then offered advice whether she wanted it or not. She liked how easily he’d adjusted to being a mere mortal after years spent being a ski god.
He was a good man, she thought wistfully. Funny, charming, caring. Instead of getting mad when he’d found out she’d been a virgin, he’d wanted to help her learn to enjoy sex. He was dependable and caring. If only he loved her. Because without loving her, without her being able to—
Destiny stopped in midstride. She slowly lowered her raised foot to the ground and let the swirling thoughts settle. When they did, she nearly fell over from shock.
She was still doing it. She was still running from something—just like she always had. She’d run from her parents when she’d been younger. She’d run from her emotions, her passions, her talents. She’d built up walls and hidden behind them, and she was still doing it. Right this second.
How did she know Kipling didn’t love her? She hadn’t asked. She hadn’t given him a chance to talk or explain or even think. They’d never talked about their marriage or explored what either of them expected or needed to make the relationship work. She’d simply told him she wanted a divorce.
Running away from something wasn’t the same as running to something. She’d spent so much of her life thinking about what she didn’t want that she’d forgotten to figure out what was important to her. She was so worried about being unhappy that she never bothered to find what made her happy. Or who.
She loved Kipling. She knew that for sure. But did he love her? Maybe this was a good time to be asking that question. And not just of herself.
“What have I done?” she asked out loud.
There was no answer. Just the hum of insects and the call of a hawk.