I leave and hit the gym at The BookHouse. Afterward, I shower and head to meet my mom and sister at the tapas bar in town.
I’m more relieved to see them than I ever thought I’d be.
“Hey,” I say, and I can hear the gratitude in my voice as Mom pops up from the table and gives me a hug. Can she hear it too? I wrap my arms around her for longer than usual.
Emily gives me a curious look as she comes in for a hug as well. I take it, finding comfort in family.
When we let go, I pull out their chairs and sit once they’re settled.
“Okay, you’re a nice man and all,” Mom says, cutting to the chase, “but you’re not Mister Affectionate. What’s going on?”
I sigh, but I don’t want to burden her with my situation. “Just glad the job is finally over. It was…a complicated one.”
Emily eyes me suspiciously over the menu. “Lies. Tell me sweet little lies.”
“I assure you, the job was very, very complicated.”
She scoffs. “Complicated by you falling in love with your client.”
Mom slaps down the menu. “What happened? Who is she? Can I meet her?”
“I wish,” I mutter. “Let’s order.”
“We’ll order, then you’ll talk,” she says in the most mom-tone ever.
The server swings by, and once we’re alone again, Mom puts on hervery concerned about my sonface. “So, I ask again, what happened?”
Emily bats her lashes. “Yes, I really want to know too.”
I roll my eyes. “You always want to know.”
“I do, and it sounds like youfinallyhave good tea. So spill it.”
I could act put upon, like I sometimes do with Emily for fun. But I’m frayed too thin, stretched to the bone. I have no fight left in me. “Emily’s right. I fell in love with a client, and it was distracting. I couldn’t focus on the job. I wound up on social media, of all fucking things.”
“Language,” Mom says.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
Emily fills her in on the details. “There was a picture of him and Haven Addison’s sister going out the other night and looking madly in love.” Grabbing her phone, she shows Mom the image.
“Oh, I loved Haven inThe Dating Games.” Mom studies the photo and adds, “Her sister’s quite pretty too.”
For the first time, I look at the picture and see something besides my damaged reputation and a lost client. I see the last fewwonderful, amazing weeks. Warmth fills my cells. A dangerous smile tugs at my lips as images of Ripley flash before my eyes and words fight their way out.
“She’s beautiful and smart and fiery and caring and thoughtful,” I begin, and once I start, I can’t stop. The valve has loosened. “She’s bold and kind, and she keeps me on my toes. She loves to knock me down a peg or two or three, and she also tries to protect me. When I first started the job, she tried to give me the slip.”
Mom’s enrapt at this info. Emily too. I take them back to the first day on the job and how valiantly my woman tried to ditch me.
Soon, they’re laughing and asking for more. I tell them about the bike, and about Ripley’s friends showing up outside the salon and goading us.
I tell them about how we had to share the cottage.
I don’t tell them how we spent our nights, or how utterly, absolutely in sync we are after dark. That’s for Ripley and me.
Instead, I tell them her favorite lavender is Melissa. That I set bouquets of it in the cottage for her.
“I walked her dog and made her origami, and she showed me around Darling Springs, and I felt like…” I pause, giving some real thought to how I felt with the woman I fell for. The answer’s clear and beautiful. Like freedom and desire all at once. “Like I wasn’t chased by the past.”
