Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“So, Jory,” Lolly asks as we begin to eat. “Tell me about you.”
He sits up straight as if he’s been put on the spot. I rest my hand on his thigh just in case it comforts him like it does when he does that to me. Have I ever been this in tune with a man before? I’ve seen it with my friends and their partners, but I’ve never experienced this.
“I’m from California,” he says like he’s in a job interview. It makes me smile. “I’m a rugby player and played with Gray for a few years in Nashville. I’m retiring at the end of next season, though.”
Lolly nods approvingly. “That’s good. Rugby is tough on your body.”
Please stop there, Lolly. Don’t bust out the adjectives describing his body. Don’t make it weird.
“It can be, yeah,” Jory says. “And I have to admit that I’m getting too old to get up in the morning and feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I’m over it.”
I smile at him and remove my hand. He’s doing fine on his own.
“What are you going to do when you retire?” Hartley asks, lifting a forkful of mashed potatoes.
It didn’t occur to me until last night that Jory hadn’t met Hartley before the wedding. I guess it was the first time we’d been anywhere as a couple even though that feels strange to think about. But, unsurprisingly, he and Hartley hit it off right away. They’re so different in their day-to-day lives, but what they have in common is decency and kindness. And if we continue this once summer ends, they’d become even better friends. Maybe even family.
Oof. The way my brain just made that transition makes my head spin. Let’s slow your roll, Markie. At least get through dinner first.
I spear some green beans and pop them into my mouth.
“Well, I’m going to move to Nevada,” Jory says.
My eyes widen at the declaration, but I catch myself before anyone notices.
“You are?” Gus asks. “I didn’t know that. That’s awesome, Dad!”
That makes two of us, Gus.
I force a swallow and then down a large part of my iced tea, hoping it cools the heat in my face. Mira’s watching me closely, but I avoid glancing up at her, as she’ll read my surprise like a book.
Certainly, I knew Jory was considering the move. I even told him it was the right thing to do. But that was then—that was before … us. Before this felt so real.
Before I started to think that maybe there could be a future together.
I dab my mouth with a napkin and try to gather the wits that have just been scattered carelessly around the dining room.
A swell of fire-hot emotion rises in my chest. Absentmindedly, I rub it with my palm.
“Hey, are you okay?” Jory whispers, peering over his shoulder at me.
I paste on a smile. “Yes. I’m fine. I swallowed too fast, and it’s kind of stuck. I just need a minute.”
“Okay,” he says, unconvinced.
Maybe he’ll ask me to go.
But would I go? I glance around the table at my family—the people I love most in the world. Could I leave them? Could I go across the country and start a new life without them?
The thought of not having these meals every week makes tears prickle at the corners of my eyes.
I’m getting too far ahead of myself. I clear my throat and take a deep breath. Nothing has to be decided at this table. You have time.
Jory’s hand finds my thigh, and his fingers splay across the whole width of it.
This time, the comfort in his touch isn’t as strong as it usually is, because he’s moving to Nevada when he retires. And the fact that he hasn’t mentioned it to me says it all.
This “comforting touch” is absolutely temporary, and I should really remember that. Because I now know what it feels like when it’s not there.
When it won’t be there.
And I hate it.
I hate it so damn much.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Markie
He hasn’t mentioned Nevada.
That sentence has rolled around in my head at least once every-other-hour since Sunday afternoon. For three days, I’ve wondered if today would be the day he brings it up. That he explains what his plan is … and if it includes me in any way.
I’ve tried not to get too optimistic about it because optimism and I have had a very love-hate relationship over the years. If I think too positively about something, it generally spirals out of control. But pessimism is no fun, either. If only finding that middle ground was easier.
Thunder rumbles through the sky, and I wish I could growl along with it. The endless rain hasn’t helped my mood at all. Jory and I were supposed to practice every day this week leading up to the tournament on Thursday, but we barely got a run in yesterday. The rain has come down in waves, accompanied by all sorts of thunder and lightning. It’s been dreary just like my mood.