The Redemption Of Lillie Rourke. Loree Lough

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       CHAPTER FOUR

      “I WISH YOU didn’t have to go.” Whitney leaned her head on his shoulder. “I was so looking forward to introducing you to the new partner.”

      Jase grabbed a handful of popcorn and stared at the preview on the movie screen. “He’ll be with the firm for years. I’m sure we’ll get together some other time.”

      She snuggled closer. “Are you sure you can’t get out of it? Just this once?”

      “I think I know why your parents spoiled you.”

      “I’m not spoiled.”

      Said the girl who drove a Mercedes at sixteen. Attended Vanderbilt, despite so-so grades. Owned a town house in an upscale neighborhood—a graduation gift from her folks.

      “You’re right. Sorry,” Jase said, meaning it. Since signing on with the law firm, Whitney had earned everything she called hers.

      “Because I’d hate to think you feel that way about me.”

      Even pouting, Jase thought, she was a knockout. Not as pretty as Lillie, but gorgeous nonetheless.

      “Sorry,” he said again. Not because he’d almost called her a nag, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about Lillie, or comparing her to Whitney. It wasn’t fair to either woman.

      Jase needed space, and time to clear his head. Standing in the aisle beside his seat, he leaned in to say, “How about some candy? I’m in the mood for Milk Duds.”

      “The lines will be long, Jason. I hate to ask you to put yourself through that.”

      “You aren’t asking. I offered, remember? So what’ll it be? Peanut butter cups? Chocolate-covered raisins?”

      “How about a salted pretzel?”

      Jase winked and made the thumbs-up sign. “Consider it done.”

      Whitney had been right; the lines were twenty deep at every cash register. Most nights, he would have walked right back into the theater. Tonight, he considered it therapy. He had to figure out exactly how he felt about Lillie. He knew he still loved her. He’d probably always love her. Enough to set aside his suspicion? Therein, as the bard might have said, lies the rub.

      A family of four left the counter, and Jase moved forward a few spaces.

      A new thought occurred to him. What if part of her therapy was to make amends and repayments...and then sever ties with everyone who’d been a part of her life as an addict?

      The kid at the counter said, “Can I help you, sir?” And from the look on his face—and the faces of the people to his right and left—Jase realized the boy had said it more than once.

      “Salted pretzel, please. And some of those.” He pointed, and the cashier grabbed a yellow box. “Two waters, too.”

      He paid for his order and somehow managed to make it back to the theater without dropping anything. Halfway between the entrance and their seats, Jase wondered if Whitney liked mustard on her pretzel. If she does, his Lillie-addled brain answered, she’ll have to eat this one plain.

      By the time he reached her, the movie’s opening credits filled the screen. Fortunately, this was a screening of a classic movie he’d seen before, so if Whitney wanted to talk about it during the ride to her place, he wouldn’t sound like a complete idiot.

      Even though you are a complete idiot.

      The whole what-if question echoed in his head, even as the story unfolded, even as he took Whitney’s elbow and led her across the parking lot, even as he helped her into the cab of his pickup. It would solve all of his problems if Lillie’s counselors had told her to leave him in the dust.

      Right?

      “You’re awfully quiet,” Whitney said. “Thinking about your trip to Florida?”

      Jase nodded as he backed out of the parking space.

      “Have you packed?”

      “Not yet.”

      “You’ll get it done in no time. As many times as you’ve made this trip, I’ll bet you can prepare for it in your sleep. Besides, you’ll only be gone for a few days.”

      “I guess.” Maybe he needed to have a talk with Lillie, face-to-face, find out where she stood on the subject of them.

      “You’re not angry with me are you, for making you take me out tonight, when you could have been home, getting things ready?”

      “No, Whitney. I’m not angry. And you didn’t make me take you out tonight. I’m here willingly.”

      “You’re sure?”

      “I’m sure.” Why couldn’t she be a little more like Lillie, comfortable with companionable silences?

      Whitney fiddled with the radio, stopping when a rap song filled the cab. If it had been Lillie sitting over there, he’d be listening to country right now. Oldies but goodies. Jazz or blues. Anything but rap. Again, a familiar annoyance simmered in his gut. He wasn’t irritated with Whitney or Lillie. He was mad at himself for behaving like a spineless goofball, incapable of making up his mind or controlling his emotions.

      Reaching across the console, he grasped Whitney’s hand. “I know I wasn’t the best company tonight, and when I get back, you can arrange dinner with the new partner and his wife. Someplace nice. My treat.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “Sound good?”