The bar is closed on Mondays, and normally that’s fine. I go in, take inventory and make sure everything is good to go for the start of the week.
I’ve done that. I’ve also done laundry and cleaned my house. I’m sitting on the couch watching the sports network, but really I’m just biding my time, watching the clock. I want to call Jamie and ask how her day went. She didn’t reply to my last text, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. Was it too much? I’ve never been one to mince words. What you see is what you get with me. I wanted her to know that I wish I were with her. So I told her. Now as I sit here hours later, watching the clock slowly ticking toward seven o’clock, I wonder if for once my blunt honesty has bitten me in the ass.
I pick up my phone to call her when it pings with a text. When I see her name flash across the screen, I release the breath I’ve been holding what seems like all afternoon.
Jamie: Hey, Country. How was your day?
I smile.
Me: Uneventful. How’s city life?
Jamie: Same old.
I hate that we’re texting when I could hear her voice. I tap on her name and place the phone next to my ear.
“Miss me?” she laughs.
“Yes,” I say honestly.
“That’s refreshing.” Her voice is a soft caress to my ear.
“What is?”
“Your honesty.”
“I’ll always be honest with you, Jamie.”
“Favorite cereal?” she asks.
I relax into the couch. “Fruity Pebbles, hands down. You?”
“Lucky Charms. When I was little, I would pick all the marshmallows out of the box and eat them first.”
“I bet you still do that.”
She laughs. “Actually, I eat it dry as a snack. I always have a sandwich bag of it in my desk.”
“I’ll have to remember that. Board game?”
“Hmmm… although I loathe it just as much sometimes, Monopoly.”
“Oh we so have to play. I’m the champion when it comes to Monopoly.”
“Oh please. I hold that title.”
“All right, next time we’re together, we’re playing.”
“That list is growing,” she murmurs.
It is, and it’s not lost on me that I won’t be seeing her again until the wedding. The one we’re both in and therefore will have a ton of wedding-related events to attend for. I’m going to have to work hard to try and get some time with her when she’s here. I’m not opposed to having my meddling sister help me with the act. I know Liv would be all over that, helping cover as we slip away together.
We spend another hour on the phone, talking as if we’ve known each other for years. It’s something I’ve never done. Talking on the phone has never been my thing, but with her being so far away, it’s quickly becoming ours. I don’t second-guess it, this pull I have when it comes to Jamie. Although our interactions have been limited, I know from just one night of lying next to her that she could quickly become an addiction.
Hell, maybe she already has.
“I should let you go,” I say after she yawns yet again.
“Yeah, I have some laundry to fold, and then I’m going to call it a night. I’ll talk to you soon?” she asks.
Is that hope in her voice?
“Yes,” I say with absolute certainty. “Sweet dreams, James.”
“Sweet dreams, Michael,” she whispers.
I wait, listening intently to her breathing on the other end. I refuse to end that connection.
Finally a soft chuckle falls from her lips. It’s music to my ears.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“This. Us. I feel like a damn teenager.”
“Glad to know it’s not just me,” I confess.
“I’ve never been in this situation. I’ve never wanted to hold onto a connection, even a phone call, so badly before in my entire life.”
I clear my throat to tell her yet again that she’s not alone when a laugh rips from her mouth again, reaching my ears. This one is deep, and I can picture her bent over, holding her belly.
“What did I miss?” I can feel the smile on my face just because of the simple fact that she’s happy.
“I just thought of something.”
“Okay?”
“It’s like those bad sitcoms, you know the ones—guy and girl on the phone and then the infamous “You hang up first” in a baby voice comes from one of them?” She’s laughing so hard she’s gasping for air.
I know exactly what she’s talking about, and I can’t help but laugh with her. When we finally get ourselves under control, I go for it. “You hang up first,” I say, my voice soft and calm.
“Michael Wallace, what am I going to do with you?”
“I have a few ideas.” I’m dead serious. I have more than a few ideas for things we could do together. Not just sexually, although I admit those are at the top of my list.
“I bet you do,” she chuckles. “All right, country, I’m off to bed. Sleep well.”
“Night, city.” I hear her exhale and then the line goes dead. I can’t help the smug smile. She hung up first.
Over the next few weeks, Jamie and I fall into a routine. We text all day long, and on my nights off, we talk on the phone. On weekend nights, if she’s still up when I get home, she calls me. She tells me to text her when I get home so she doesn’t worry. I argued with her about not wanting to wake her up, but she insists she’ll sleep better knowing I’m home. It’s oddly like a relationship, but I don’t get to hold her or kiss her. The more we talk and get to know each other, the more I crave that.
Only with Jamie.
Tonight is one of those nights. It’s been a month since I’ve seen her, and I’m incredibly tempted to hop in my truck and drive to her. The bar’s closed Sunday and Monday, so I could leave Saturday morning—the staff and Liv can handle the place for a day—and then I could drive home Monday morning when she leaves for work. Or maybe I could get her to call in and I could leave Tuesday morning. I like that idea so much better.
These are the thoughts that run through my head daily.
Me: Hey, gorgeous, I’m home.
Before I can even set my phone down, her name lights up my screen. I tap the screen and place the phone next to my ear.
“How was your night?” she asks sleepily.
“Good. Slow for a Saturday. How about yours?”
“Oh mine was good. I had dinner with my parents, then came home and cleaned, did some laundry. You know, life of the party,” she laughs.
“I thought you said the city was full of excitement and there’s always something to do?”
“There is, but you have to want to do it.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just….”
“What’s going on, James?” I use her full name, letting her know I’m serious.
“Nothing, really. I’d just rather….” She hesitates, then blows me away when she says, “Wait for you to call. I mean, none of it appeals to me like it did. You know?” she rambles on. “I mean, if you were here with me, there’s so much I could show you, but….”
“I’ll come to you,” I say automatically. She just voiced my earlier thoughts.
“You will?” She seems surprised.
If she only knew what I would do for her, to see her. “Yeah. You tell me what days work best for you and I’ll be there.”
“What about the bar?”
The bar. I didn’t think about it, but I don’t need to. I have staff and Liv. “Olivia can handle it. You give me dates, darlin,’ and I’ll be there.”
“I wish I could hug you,” she says softly.
“Baby, you have no idea.”
“Let me look at the schedule at work and I’ll get back to you.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Sweet dreams, James.”
“Night, Michael.”
Tossing my phone on the couch beside me, I grab the remote and turn on the TV, too amped up to sleep. I get to see her soon.
I make a mental note to ask her again midweek. In the meantime, I’m going to make sure the bar is stocked. When she calls, I’m coming for her—no questions asked.
Bar be damned.