Page 60 of In This Moment

They got dressed and went out onto the back deck, watching Twain mill about the yard. A cool humid breeze brought varying scents of the river, magnolias blooming, and night jasmine. Stars littered a pitch black sky, unmarred by the city lights to which he was accustomed. Crickets chirped, but it was otherwise silent.

“It’s so quiet here,” he mused.

She hummed a sound of agreement and claimed an Adirondack chair. “I don’t know which was harder to get used to, the city noise or the stillness.”

“For me, I’d say the quiet, but I was raised in the city.” He plopped in the chair next to hers, tilting his face toward the sky. “I think I’m used to it, and then the hush just hits me.”

“I was the same way after leaving for college. Just when I thought I had adapted, a fire or police siren would wail on the street or a party would start down the hall.”

The conversation reminded him of a thread he’d meant to unravel. They’d already dealt with her ex. “You mentioned how your career didn’t advance in Boston.” She’d skirted the whole truth in her interview, but they were much closer now. “What happened?”

Laying her head back on the seat, she drew her knees to her chest and stared at the heavens. “I’m not sure if it was one thing or many, if I’m being honest. They hired me straight out of college, and I just assumed Obituaries was a starting position. My first week on the job, I was in a bathroom stall when two ladies from higher up the food chain came in, talking about me. They made fun of me and my accent. Worst part was, I’d worked dang hard in college to drop most of my southern dialect.”

Not completely. He’d caught traces when she was in regular conversation, but it went from a trickle to a flood when she was animated or angry. Nevertheless, she shouldn’t have had to hide it from anyone, and said as much.

She shrugged. “A lot of people equate southern with stupid. Figured I’d just prove them wrong. I applied for three positions in three different departments after my first year. None of them even bothered to consider me. It was a huge paper with lots of staff, but I suppose word got around. Sometimes, I’d spot a good story and write it up, forwarding it to the proper department head. All I ever received was polite formulated rejections. I just…never fit in.”

Twain walked up to her, and she absently petted him. “I had a couple acquaintances in my apartment complex or at work, but not anyone I would consider a friend.”

It sounded terrible to him, and he could relate. He’d moved here, sight unseen, at the lowest point in his life. At least he had Forest. “Why didn’t you leave? Put your bid in at other newspapers?”

“I did. Probably should have sooner, but I kept holding out hope that they’d see my skills and promote me.” She shook her head. “First year was settling in. Second was a wash. I dragged my heels most of the third year. I sent my résumé out to quite a few companies, but after seeing I was employed at one of the largest syndicates in America, without advancing, they passed. Smaller bloggers and newspapers couldn’t match my salary. I could barely afford my apartment as it was, so even if I got offered a position, I couldn’t take it.”

She slanted him a look from the corner of her eye. “Lord, I hated that place. The job and the apartment. It was a studio with a kitchenette. Seven hundred square feet.”

He winced. “Ouch.”

The thought of her alone, proverbially beaten down by life and luck, and wasting her talents, tore a hole in his gut. She was outgoing, friendly, and smart. A rare, gorgeous flower among weeds that had choked the spirit out of her amazing attributes. Not for the first time, he wished he’d known her back then. Or sooner.

“Would you go back?” Scratching his jaw, he stared at his house next door to hers, wondering what his answer would be if she asked him. A month ago, it would’ve been an unequivocal yes. He’d merrily return to the city, his family, his life, and his career if given the chance. He hesitated to think it over now, and that surprised him. “If they offered you a better position and higher pay, would you take it?”

Distractedly, she shook her head, but her tone brooked no argument. “No. I’m grateful for the learning experience and opportunity. It taught me a lot about the world and myself. I used to beat myself up over failing or not fulfilling my dreams, but I believe all roads led me back here for a reason, even if it’s not where I expected.”

Chapter Fifteen

Rebecca padded back into her bedroom and climbed under the covers. Graham lay sleeping beside her, lightly snoring, and with the sheet draped across his waist.

He’d spent the night. As in, slept over. After an epic night of sex and conversation.

Color her crazy, but it had never been like that for her before. Sure, she’d been in relationships and had lovers, but this seemed different. Felt different. For one, the sex had been fantastic. Like he’d been so in tune with her body that pleasuring her had been automatic. No thought or research required. And then there were the discussions. Before and afterward. Intimate, open dialogue where there had been no judging, no shame. Even when they’d disagreed, it had been a respectful exchange. She’d said things she hadn’t even admitted to her besties. Details she hadn’t let escape from the dark corners of her mind.

Shaking her head, she smiled. He was kind and honest. Open and willing. Present and able. They’d formed a connection in such a short period she’d never achieved with other partners. They just…clicked. It almost seemed too simple. Well, maybe not simple, but fast. Perhaps she was jaded, but she wondered if this was a honeymoon period, and if so, how long it would last. He hadn’t said much after she’d answered his question about going back to her old job in the city if given a better opportunity. Would he? If the scandal blew over and he was given the chance, would he take it? Merely get up and leave? The thought had crossed her mind more than once.

Forget it. She wouldn’t let doubts pop her euphoric bubble.

She shoved skepticism aside and stared at him while he slept. Something she used to find creepy, but now she willingly understood the hype. Unbidden, walls crumbled and pretenses didn’t exist while watching someone in slumber. No guards. Just him. And he appeared to be the same while asleep. Which said a lot about his character. It meant he didn’t hide anything or blanket his thoughts. No ulterior motives.

For the most part, his expressions were easy to read when they’d been together, and she’d greatly appreciated that characteristic. Once they’d gotten better acquainted, anyway. Throughout her adult life, she’d had difficulty in relationships because her communication barrier erected a wall with the inability to understand her partner’s needs. Guys tended to be black and white in the majority of things, but the shades of gray halted her in her tracks. Even when she’d tried to ask, she’d failed, and the relationships dissolved.

Graham was such a handsome devil. Ebony hair that curled slightly at the ends. Angular face. Jaw dusted with dark scruff. Full lips. Eyelashes that any female would maim to possess. Though closed, his eyes were a shocking shade of green, and she could stare into them for hours, yet never fully grasp their hue. Expressive, to boot. Wide shoulders, defined abs, light sprinkling of black hair trailing to his goody zone…

Le sigh. Definitely a looker.

He stirred and turned his head, but didn’t open his eyes.

She smiled, watching from her pillow, and wondered if he was a morning person. Typically, she required two cups of coffee to have any sort of function. She’d bet he was the grouchy type. Adorably so.

He emitted a half-groan and rolled onto his side. As if by afterthought, his arm looped around her waist and he drew her flush in front of him. Rawr. He’d done that last night during the movie, too. An alpha-male action without rendering her weak in the demonstration. She was slender by nature. She knew that, but how he physically manipulated her body to his whims was downright panty-drenching.

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