Page 25 of Fall Wherever They May

“Shoot.”

“River . . . um . . . she’s your sister? I’m sorry if I’m being forward, but I’m curious; she doesn’t look anything like you.”

I giggle, “That’s because she isn’t my biological sister. We’ve been best friends since we were babies. She is the only family I have, aside from my mom, so yeah, we chose each other. We look at each other as sisters even though we aren’t blood-related.”

“So, she moved up here to help you?”

I run my hands through my hair, then adjust my shirt, stopping it from riding further up my stomach. “Yeah, um . . . she had some stuff going on and wanted to get away.”

The heaviness of our conversation wafts in the air as we lay in silence once more, looking up at the night sky.

I turn my head back to him, studying his profile. He’s beautiful. His right arm is bent with his hand tucked behind his head, and his other one is flat between us. Long lashes that are just not fair for a guy to possess fan around his hazel eyes. Eyes so alluring and beautiful that when you look close enough,you can even see the gold flecks in them. His lips are plump and perfect. I imagine their softness; what they might feel like on mine. “I don’t know if I said it earlier, but I’m sorry for everything as well.”

“Apology accepted,” he tells me, then adds, “Truce?”

“Truce. Thank you for taking care of us on Friday.”

It’s an odd feeling; I don’t think I have ever had a man take care of me or Tucker. It felt . . . nice. His pinky slightly grazes the side of my hand. I don’t know if it’s intentional or if it’s because we’re lying so close to one another, but an electric current runs throughout my body.

“You know, I was thinking . . .” His eyes trace my face when I turn my head back to him. My heart picks up speed.

I laugh. “Don’t go thinking we’re friends now because we had a moment, Hotshot.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, Firecracker.” He chuckles.

CHAPTER NINE

Aspen

Projections analysis needs to be completed, contracts need to be reviewed, I have resumes for the GM position to go through. Not to mention, my meeting with the commissioner in less than a week that I must prepare for. There are a million other things I need to be doing instead of thinking about Callan Miles. I can’t concentrate. Memories of Sunday night keep distracting me: the way Cal looked at me, his hand on my cheek wiping away my tears, the way his lips moved when he spoke—all keep popping into my head at the most random moments.

He listened, allowed me to unload on him, and validated my feelings in the process. What I half expected him to say was, “See, I told you no one wanted you,” but he didn’t. What he said was far more dangerous: words that I never thought would escape his mouth, words no man has ever said to me before, words of affirmation.

“You’re desirable . . . You’re incredible . . . You’re a good mom.”

The compassion he showed when I was having a very vulnerable moment was beyond my comprehension. Not to mention the way he gently wiped away my tears. I’m not goingto lie and say my body didn’t react to that—it totally did. I don’t understand why I felt so comfortable sharing such deep, personal traumas with a person who could very well have used them against me. The only thing I can come up with is that maybe there is more to him than the broody asshole persona he puts off. I also know if I keep thinking about him, I’m not going to accomplish a damn thing today.

Contracts are strewn across my desk, and I’m up to my eyeballs in decisions that need to be made for the organization. Even after hours of studying each possible candidate, for the GM position, there’s still no clarity in sight. I’m just thankful Hannah will be here in an hour to help me decide. She had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and honestly, I’m so thankful because the last thing I want is for one of my employees to bear witness to this shit show.

I’m a woman in a male-dominant position. I know I’m being scrutinized, which leads me back to why I shouldn’t be sitting here thinking about Callan Fucking Miles, never mind the fact that I’m his boss.

“Mom?”

“Yeah, Buddy?” I say, still filtering through resumes.

I massage my temples, feeling a headache coming on. It’s not like I’m making progress, and I never want to make my son feel second to my job, no matter how busy I am. So, I look up, giving him my full attention. Tucker stands in my office with Elija.

I smile brightly, surprised to see him with Tucker. “Hi Elija! How’s the new hockey team?”

“Good. It would be better if Tucker were on it, though,” he says.

I’ll have to look into that. Maybe I can talk to River and see if she can help when I’m out of town.

I give Tucker my attention. “Whatcha got?”

“Can we go down on the ice?”

A couple of weeks ago Ivan brought Elija to skate with Tucker and Cal. Since then, the boys have been inseparable. There are two things those two undoubtedly have in common: Fortnite and hockey. River and I have been to their house a couple of times since the boys met. We both clicked with Evie and are becoming fast friends.

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