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“Get out,” she said quietly.
All those nights spent crying, wondering why he wouldn’t just send a simple text …
“Excuse me?” Jagger didn’t leave. In fact, he edged closer to her.
“I can’t do this with you,” she said.
All the pitying, attempted consoling from her parents and Mike, trying to help her get over him and only making things worse…
“You’re breaking my heart in two again, Jag, and I’m not strong enough to go through that anguish with you again.”
All those years wondering what was wrong with her, what could force him away without a word of goodbye or explanation...
“Bee.” His voice was soft and full of pleading. “I don’t want to break your heart. I never did.”
“How can you say that?” She threw her hands in the air. It was too much. Him loving Mercedes. Them thrust into this insane challenge, together for almost a week. Him claiming he didn’t want to break her heart. Well, he had and he was. “Please. Let me rest. It’s too much. I can’t. I just can’t.”
Jagger swallowed, looking her over and apparently seeing she was at her wit’s end. “I understand. Maybe tomorrow …”
Belinda shook her head. She would make no promises to him. Yanking the door open, she pointed to the hallway.
Jagger gave her one more searching look and then strode out the door.
She shut it behind him. Then she sank to the floor, pulled out her necklace, clung to the ring he’d given her, and let herself cry.
She’d thought she was broken and confused when he’d ditched her fourteen years ago. How was seeing him again and knowing they still didn’t have a chance at love and happiness even worse?
Jagger loved Mercedes Belle. Belinda had always thought that lady was angelic, but she malevolently and selfishly loathed the generous heiress at the moment. If she could find a poster of Mercedes Belle, she’d throw darts at it until she felt better.
If Jagger never loved Belinda again … she would never feel better.
Chapter
Seven
Jagger had spent many a miserable night in the Navy. Many. Especially after he lost Bee and had to finish A school in the lowest funk of his life since losing his dad as a ten-year-old. He’d worked hard and focused on being the best and serving his country and developing close friendships with Hays, Shawn, and Grayson. Grayson’s tragic death and then his mom’s had resulted in absolutely horrible days and nights as well.
Somehow, last night ranked up there as one of the most miserable. He’d laid in bed, craving Bee more than he craved oxygen during a deep dive. She was all he’d ever needed and she still wouldn’t give him a chance, wouldn’t even talk things out.
He’d determined to fight through this pain and get answers, but what he wanted more than anything was to have her in his life again. He didn’t know if that would ever happen.
He wanted to fight somebody, but Hays and Paul didn’t deserve the thrashing he’d give them.
Instead, he woke early, headed to the home gym, and lifted heavy on chest, shoulders, and triceps for almost two hours. Then he didn’t even bother returning to his room to find a swimsuit. He hurried up the stairs and out to the main level patio, down the trail to the beach, stripped off his shirt, socks, and shoes, and hit the ocean in his cotton workout shorts.
There was a strong current. He appreciated nature’s tribulations. He swam and swam and swam.
The sun rose and his watch confirmed it was almost eight o’clock. He should just let Bee and Paul make their escape. He could shower and eat a big breakfast. Then he and Hays could go catch them and somehow he’d figure out how to get her to talk tonight.
Instead of letting her go this morning, he changed trajectories and swam furious strokes to the beach, swept up his shirt, socks, and shoes, and sprinted up to the house. Through the many windows, he could see Belinda, Paul, and Hays were in the kitchen area, packing a backpack and a small cooler for her and Paul to take with them.
He dropped his clothes on the patio, grabbed a beach towel from the stack, wrapped it around his waist, and burst through one of the French doors.
His gaze went straight to Belinda.
She gasped and jabbed a finger at him. She was bright and sunny-looking in a gray tank top and blue shorts. Okay, her clothes weren’t sunny-looking, but her beautiful face and blonde hair lit up the morning for him.
“What are you doing?” she demanded in classic Bee style. She may be small, but her personality made her larger than life. “Put some clothes on right this minute.”
