“There’s no way I’d be able to live without mine. I need somewhere to put my kids and their mates when they come over for dinner on Sundays. My kitchen can barely fit two people.”
I nodded, fighting back a frown. “I, uh, don’t really have that problem, living out here alone.”
She was quiet like she didn’t know what to say.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted her to say.
Did I want her to tell me to sell my shares and move to Briar Glenn?
I poured us both a glass of wine and sat down next to her.
There was a noticeable tension between us, like the illusion of the past few days was finally crumbling into reality. Every second that passed brought us closer to having to say goodbye again.
She cleared her throat and popped a ‘scallop’ into her mouth, chewing it with a little hum. “This is amazing.”
“Thank you.” I nibbled on a piece of asparagus, having lost my appetite to the ball of nerves in the pit of my stomach.
Pam set her fork down, bracing her arm against the counter as she stared at me. “Al, we have to talk about this at some point. The whole reason I came out here was to support you through this.”
I took a hefty swig of my wine, almost draining the glass. “I know. I’ve just worked so hard to build that company. I’m not sure I’m ready to give it all up.”
“You wouldn’t be giving it up, you’d be passing it along to Jonathan.”
I tsked and shook my head. “You know, that’s the funny thing. Twenty years ago, that was me. I was in Jonathan’s shoes, watching as the older guys aged out, took their money, and retired—and now I’m the older guy. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.”
She laughed and gripped my thigh. “What did you think? That you were going to work until you died? What kind of life would that be?”
“I don’t know what I thought. I just—thought I had more time.”
That signature snort of hers made me smile. “I know that feeling well.”
The death of her husband, his pension transferring over to her, passing the bakery to Tegan. Pam had been through a lot of major life changes over the last few years.
“How did you cope? You were thrown into a lot of things all at once.”
She let out a deep breath. “You know, for years, the bakery was the only thing I had outside of the kids and Don. The one thing that was mine, and I’d worked so fucking hard to make it successful. I always hoped Tegan would take it over, but when that day finally came, it was hard giving it up. I felt like I was letting go of the one thing that defined me. But it wasn’t the only thing that defined me.
“Sure, there was an adjustment period, but retiring meant I had more time for all those knitting projects I’d set aside. I could watch all the movies and read all the books I’d missed out on. I could spend time with my kids without thinking about work the entire time—I could live in the moment. And if I wasn’t retired, I wouldn’t have been able to drop everything and fly out here to see you. You might feel like you’re losing a part of yourself by selling your shares, but you’re gaining something precious, something that we take for granted. Time.”
Time.
It was something I’d come to appreciate in my relationship with her. Regardless of how long we spent together, it never felt like it was enough.
I put my hand on top of hers, gripping it tight and losing myself in her emerald eyes. “Well, when you put it like that, there’s a lot of things I’d rather spend my time doing besides working.”
“Like me?” she said, batting her lashes.
I threw my head back with a bellowing laugh. “Pamela Rollins, I think my sense of humor is rubbing off on you.” Leaning over, I lowered my voice and whispered in her ear, “And I’d spend all my time doing you if I could.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” She raised her brows and took a sip of her wine.
This woman.
How was I lucky enough to stumble right into her path?
To convince her to date me—long distance—after one date?
Minotaurs didn’t have fated mates, but whatever act of the goddess this was, I was thankful I’d been blessed with Pam in my life.
