That night, when Fang came home, I told him what had transpired.
“I know you don’t care much about the ceremony itself,” he said as we fixed spaghetti together.“But I worry that you will regret not having Henry at the actual wedding.”
“Dude,” I told him, and popped a piece of garlic bread into his mouth.“You know me better than anyone.This is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle we’re talking about.”
Even though he didn’t have the same love of mysteries as Brother and me, he agreed that it would be a shame to miss the Conan Doyle event.
Later, when we were spooned in bed (Fang and I took turns in being the big spoon), Fang was breathing into my hair, his body relaxing as he drifted into sleep.I lay on my side, watching through the window as the moon started to rise over a line of windbreak trees, casting an eerie light over the familiar fields of the pasture.
“What would you think of moving to the States?”
For a few seconds, I thought I was dreaming, but then I rolled onto my back and looked at Fang.His eyes were on me, and although it was too dark to see the expression in them, I knew he was about to make a sacrifice for me.“You mean to move back so I can take the Buckling Swashes job?It might not be necessary, not if we could work out a way for me to fly to California less often than once a month.”
“In the worst-case scenario, then.Assuming they would offer you the job if the travel wasn’t an issue?”
That was a question, and I knew what he was hinting at.
“I think they’d offer me the job, yes,” I told him, going back over my interview with Amy.“We agreed to leave it on a ‘we’ll talk later’ level, so assuming I didn’t misread her response, I think a job offer is possible.”
“Would you like going back to the States?”he asked again, his breath brushing my face.I smooshed myself against his gorgeous, naked, warm chest.
“Yes.But moving means you leaving your home.”
“You left your home for me.Maybe it’s my turn to do the same for you.”
I sat up and clicked on the light, needing to see him if we were going to have this sort of a talk.He blinked a few times, and I couldn’t help but reach out and brush the rich brown hair out of his eyes.“You mean it, don’t you?”
“Yes.”His gaze was steady on mine.
“But ...what would you do?”I asked, considering the idea.To be honest, I wouldn’t mind at all tackling that job, since it sounded fascinating and would add to my skill set.But it wasn’t all about me.
“Get a job,” he answered, then rolled onto his back, pulling me down with him.“I’ll have to take a qualifying exam to practice in the US, but I asked Nickerson, and he said I can do that in England, and that he’d do what he could to help me find a job in California.”
“Not California,” I said slowly, thinking about it.
“Washington?”he asked.
“Yes.”I tipped my head back and gently bit him on his chin.
He pinched me on my ass.
“Your parents?”
“They’re getting older,” I said, thinking furiously.“If we moved within an hour or two from them—not close, but not out of reach—then if they need us, we could help out.And flying to California from Seattle is a whole lot easier than from England.”
Fang thought about that for a few minutes.“That would work.I’ll get the application form for the exam tomorrow, and see what I’ll need to get qualified in the States.”
For the first time since Fang had told me about the layoff, I felt a spurt of hope.“We can come back here as frequently as possible.I’d hate to not see our friends again.Devon travels a lot, but you know how Holly is.It’s almost impossible to get her off the commune.”
“There’s nothing to say we can’t return to England to live at a later date,” Fang said, one arm around me as we settled again.
I liked that idea.“We could do five years in the US, then come back here for five years,” I said, more than a little excited at the idea of both a new start and the financial stability that came with us being gainfully employed.Fang and I had talked about starting an animal sanctuary one day, and that took oodles of money.“Or ten years.Or, hell, whatever time frame we feel like.Fang!This is such a good idea.You would be OK living in the US?”
“I lived in Canada for four years, so it’s not like the culture shock will kill me,” he pointed out.
We talked late into the night, but in the morning, we both felt better about our situations.
I just hoped the good feelings would prove to be valid.
