“What?”
“We got derailed with all the chaos of this week. But we need to talk more about your writing life, right?”
Oof. I crashed my head into his chest. “What about it?” I said, though it was muffled.
I could hear his laugh and feel the vibrations against my forehead but didn’t want to lift to look at him.
“Well, there’s the little matter that only two people know that you write.”
“Um-hmm.”
“Which is fine if that’s what you want, but you’ve indicated you’re ready to change that.”
I nodded against his chest.
“And you mentioned you might want to find a way to make writing your full-time gig,” he went on.
Ughhhhhhhhhh. My stomach hurt thinking about it. “Health insurance,” I answered because really, wasn’t ittheanswer?
“Yeah, I’m understanding that a bit more now, Ms. Stability.”
“Retirement. Consistent salary.”
“Yep, loud and clear,” he replied. Then he squeezed my ass. Yum. More. “But also, didn’t you say your second book is next month’s book club pick?”
Oh hell. It was. I looked up. “I might have lost my appetite again.”
Chapter 24
Connecting
Noah
Jules and I studied my fully stocked fridge, which had been a barren desert of food just days ago when I’d headed north. I’d planned on grocery shopping this week, but it looked like I could skip that now.
After some debate, we settled on making something low-key for dinner. I sent off a text to Ivy and Jake in thanks for the gift of grocery shopping while Jules discovered a loaf of homemade sourdough from a local baker that they’d left. With that we decided egg sandwiches would hit the spot.
There was no other way to describe it. Being with Jules was easy—here, at my parents’ place, driving in the car, cooking, hanging out, entertaining my daughter. She was no bullshit, as some of the guys would say—what you saw was what you got. And, most importantly, she didn’t play games. It might be hard for her to voice some of her thoughts, but that wasn’t because she was purposefully holding back, and frankly that was refreshing from the stories I’d heard. It was why Ivy and I had worked for as long as we did when really our chemistry was more friends than something romantic. Both of us were authenticallyourselves, for better or for worse, and that was all I had time for in my life.
Jules synced her phone with my speakers, and we took turns playing albums we loved to see what each other’s reactions were to our favorite artists. I loved watching her let loose, dancing around my kitchen. I learned she hadn’t met a Taylor Swift era that she didn’t love. I thought the artist was a good songwriter, but my favorites tended to be more like the Killers, or Kings of Leon. We both also loved some older stuff, but it was fun just to be surprised as to what came on next.
After a few hours of our own private game of guess the song or artist, the kitchen was cleaned up, our bellies were full, and Jules was laughing as she held up her phone.
“One more, one more.” She shot me a mischievous look and then hit Play, placing her phone down and leaning back against the counter while she watched me, waiting for the song to begin.
“I feel like this is some sort of test.”
“Might be,” she said with a shrug. “Have to know you recognize good music.”
“That should already be established,” I said. However, I was willing to give the song a fair evaluation. I stood still, eyes trained to the floor, and waited to see what she had for me. The humming caught my attention first. Then clapping joined with a few instruments. As the voice started, my eyes shot to hers. “Hozier?”
She nodded. “Song title?”
A few more beats in and I had it. “‘Work Song.’” I stepped to her and slid my arms around her waist, pulling her to me. “Great song, great artist. Did I pass?”
“Debatable. This is on the playlist for my current book. Actually, I think it’s been on the playlists for all of them so far.” She looked up at me with a bright smile. “It’s weird to talk about my hobby with anyone.”
“Weird good?”
