She twined her arms around his neck and kissed him again, sweetly, in that dreamy way that meant sleep was calling to her. “Thank you. The truth is, I never want to be away from you. And I know it can work. We’llmakeit work.”
He grazed his fingertips up and down her back as she descended into slumber. He really would talk to the union tomorrow. Hell, he’d take a job cleaning toilets, if they offered one.
But try as he might, Aubrey’s casual optimism felt faintly dangerous when placed in his hands. She made it sound as if a future together was something they only had to reach for, something they had every right to expect.
Meanwhile, he’d considered this whole thing more of a fever dream. One divine happenstance after another, a series of statistical anomalies that kept piling up and would have to come toppling down at some point.
But fuck it. If she wanted him to try, he would.
Really, he’d give her anything she asked for.
18.
Gallant stared at his computer monitors and sighed. Why had he ever thought this was a good idea?
He knocked back half his bourbon and reread Nick Thacker’s latest letter, hoping the alcohol might unveil some brilliant strategy within. But no. The words were pure sap.
Then again, the first two letters had undoubtedly gotten him somewhere, and Aubreydidoperate in a way Gallant wasn’t used to. Wasn’t that why she equaled the other half of his ideal power couple, anyway? She wasdifferent. She had class. Style. Not to mention a tight body he wanted to explore by the handful.
He just wasn’t about to write freaking poetry about it. But apparently, that was what she liked, so Gallant sighed again and dutifully whisked a sheet of paper from his drawer.
A good salesman adopted his strategy to suit.
He set to copying Nick’s words, making sure to substitute “Dear Aubrey” for “Dear Jane.” A few days ago, Nick had emailed asking about “John’s” most recent date, so Gallant had written back about drinking wine with “Jane” on the couch. Now that impromptu evening had made it onto the page—only injected with a whole hell of a lot more meaning than Gallant had thought to give it.
That confused him, too. Nick Thacker had always seemed like such a brick wall of a person—stone-faced, cold, not much going on behind the eyes. Turned out, the guy had more feelings than a teenage girl crying into a pint of ice cream. And clearly, at some point in his life, he’d fallen in love up to his eyeballs, because there was no way he’d pulled all this from thin air.
Gallant almost felt sorry for the guy, then paused on a particularly saccharine sentence. Or not.
Whatever. He’d close this deal with Aubrey, then back off with the letters, train her not to expect this mushy fluff all the time.
Soon, she’d realize he had so much more going for him than sugary words. Once they spent more time together, she’d fall for his long list of positive attributes, and the letters would cease to matter.
With any luck, it would all start tonight.
Aubrey had insisted on walking to Gallant’s. He’d sounded dubious on the phone, fretting over her safety in a way that charmed her, but she’d insisted, saying it was only half a mile and that the fresh air would do her good.
In actuality, she’d needed a buffer between her house and his. At home, when she cozied by the fire and meandered through rooms that gleamed with the patina of memories, she couldn’t help thinking of Nick. What he’d said in his truck kept doubling back on her, often without warning.
If I could’ve sawed myself in two and given each of you half, I would have.
Aubrey’s stomach wobbled as she pulled her collar up against the cold. Clearly, a single sentence from that man could still bring her to her knees, no matter what she’d told herself.
She just wished she hadn’t responded by telling him about Gallant, but in that moment, it had simply bristled out of her,a bizarre form of self-defense. Nick’s earnestness had invoked a bone-deep,what-ifyearning, and she’d stabbed at it with the first weapon available. Mostly because the alternative would have involved flinging herself into his arms.
Aubrey shuddered. God, she’d come perilously close to doing exactly that. For a moment, when he’d spoken to her that way—so sincere, so familiar—her resolve had turned to vapor. But shehadto keep her distance. Nick would never leave his daughter, and rightfully so. Meanwhile, she had a job to regain. Kidney donations to arrange, lives to save. Once Osos reinstated her, she wouldn’t see this town again. Even if she’d wanted to stay in Henderson, the company had a strict on-site-only policy, no remote work allowed. Not to mention she was dating someone else.
No, she and Nick had already followed their road to its terminus. Nothing lay at the end but the smoking ruins of heartbreak.
Thankfully, the fresh, cold air cleared Aubrey’s head. By the time she reached Gallant’s doorstep, her heart thumped out an eager rhythm—partly because of the aroma wafting on the chilly air, and partly because she suspected a third letter waited inside.
She needed to read it. If for no other reason, because each new page recalibrated another fragment of her, reaffixing her inner workings to a new compass point.
When she knocked, Gallant swung open the door, two glasses of white wine already in hand.
Aubrey anchored herself to the moment. To him. “Hi.”
“Hey, beautiful.” He welcomed her into the polished-concrete entryway and kissed her cheek before handing off a glass. “You look stunning.”
