Page 7 of Her Wild Coast Promise

What if I can’t find another job?

Should I stay in Helena? I love Montana, but maybe I would like other places too. I grew up in a small town in Idaho called Penny Creek, but when my parents split up, Mom moved to Bozeman to be closer to my grandparents. I could go back there. Or back to Penny Creek? I don’t know what the job market is like there, but I would be able to spend time with Noah, my niece Kenzie, plus Vonnie’s amazing family.

Or maybe I should broaden my search.

But what about Doug?

He’s dependable, gainfully employed, doesn’t do drugs, but more importantly, he meets my first requirement—he’s not a cop.

My dad and brothers are cops. I know what that life is like.

“Mmm, taste,” Doug says, and offers me his fork.

I open my mouth, locking eyes with him as he slides the fork into my mouth. His face is rapt with anticipation.

The tomato-garlic pasta sauce is delightfully creamy and bursting with flavor. “It’s really good.”

He smiles.

I glance at my bowl of ravioli perfectly coated with homemade pesto and shaved parmesan cheese. Have I even tasted it?

“I’ve been thinking,” Doug says while swirling another bite of his pasta. “Maybe it’s time for a change.”

I cut into one of my ravioli. “Like what?”

“You could take that online course in real estate. In three months, you could become an agent. They’re building a brand-new development near Jefferson Park. You could start with something like that.”

Inwardly, I cringe. While I understand that the growing population of people need places to live, I can’t stomach the idea of selling McMansions. “I don’t know if I can be out of work that long.”

He sets down his fork, and a weird look takes over his face. Like he’s about to be sick.

“Cora.” He reaches across the table to hold my hand.

A shock wave pumps through me.

“I’m ready to take this to the next step.”

His hand is warm and smooth, and his grip isn’t tight, but I have to fight the urge to wriggle free. “Okay.”

“I want you to move in with me.”

“Oh,” I say. “Wow.”

“It’s silly to pay for two places when we can combine and save.”

My thoughts are going berserk inside my head. Doug is a good guy. A little self-focused, but dependable. He’s not exactly stellar in bed, but at least he doesn’t snore. But move in with him? Doug and I have only been together for six months, and though we both have similar goals, lately I’ve felt like something is missing.

“I like my place, though,” I say.

He shrugs. “Mine is better. You can have my office for studying.”

His “office” is a tiny nook off his kitchen with a desk and computer he uses to search for cars and play a medieval themed video game.

“I don’t think real estate is my jam.”

He cocks his head. “Well, what else are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure.” I slide my hand from his.

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