Page 33 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

She murmured something to Hank he couldn’t make out, and Jamie stood there for a moment, then took a step sideways and leaned his back against the wall of her building. The sun was slowly making its descent past the horizon, cooling the heat and shifting daylight to something softer.

“So how are you settling in?” he asked. “To Omaha, I mean?”

“Pretty good, I think. It’s bigger than Lincoln, but it doesn’t really feel that different. Starbucks is actually a really fun job, and I’ve been working on some designs for your sister. I really hope she likes what I come up with.”

“She will.” The only thing that got his sister worked up was the food itself. She’d never been too picky about things like design and marketing, and even if she was, the little he knew about Elliott told him she wouldn’t half-ass the work she did.

Elliott nodded but kept her eyes on Hank so he couldn’t read her expression. “There are a few things I’m still trying to figure out around here and there, though.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Maybe he could help.

She glanced up, gray eyes meeting his. “Okay, like where’s a good place to buy local art? My best friend came to visit over the weekend and shamed me for my bare walls. We took a trip to Home Goods, but those warehouse stores just aren’t my thing. Shopping small is. I’d rather find something one of a kind and support a local artist if I can.”

“Quick tip? Don’t let Blythe hear you trash-talk Home Goods. I’m pretty sure the last time I babysat so she and her husband could go on a date, that’s where they went. They were there so long they barely had time to hit a taco truck and eat in the car on the way home.”

“She’s a small business owner!”

“Sure, but where else can you buy a bohemian-style painting, gourmet pasta, and four dog beds at the same time?”

“Costco?”

He cocked his head. “Isn’t Costco just as bad as Home Goods?”

Her shoulders fell. “Well, yeah.”

He laughed, feeling a little unbalanced at the smile on her face. “Well, you’re in luck, because there’s a pretty great art scene around here.” His mom was really into that scene and had even dragged him along for some painting classes a couple of years ago (he was worse than terrible). “If you’re looking for high-end stuff, Old Market has several galleries. For more of the underground scene, check out Dundee or the Blackstone District. There’s a creative co-op in Dundee that has lots of booths for local folks.”

His mom knew the owner of the co-op and sometimes helped out on the weekends, and he hoped Elliott and his mom didn’t cross paths. It wouldn’t be wise to invite any additional connections with her, especially not after he’d heard from Blythe after their consultation.

Unsurprisingly, his sister had really liked her.

What would she say if she knew Elliott was the woman he’d met last year? His sister was the only person he’d told about that night, and after declaring she’d “never seen him like this over a girl,” she’d become an amateur detective, scouring the internet for any information on a woman from Lincoln named May. With only that to go off, and the fact May had actually been Elliott’s middle name, Blythe had come up empty-handed.

Eventually, like Jamie, Blythe gave up hope of ever finding her.

“Oh, great. Hang on—let me write that down.” Hank sat up when Elliott paused her ministrations to reach for her phone and open the Notes app.

When she finished and looked up, he asked, “What else?”

“Know any good places to go running?”

A memory flashed through his brain: a dimly lit street, a warm breeze, and his hand wrapped around hers as they walked.

Sometimes I go for a run when I need to get out of my head.

Yeah? Me too.

He cleared his throat, shifting his attention to Hank, who’d set his paw on Elliott’s knee. “The Keystone and Riverfront trails are pretty popular. Lake Zorinsky, too. I wouldn’t recommend going alone when it’s dark, though. If you ever want to, you’d be welcome to take Hank with you.” Hank perked up at his name.

“Really?”

“Sure, he loves running. I take him a few times a week. He knows to stay at your side and not veer off or get caught under your feet. And even though he’s just a big baby, he looks scary enough.” Elliott wasn’t his to protect, but growing up with a sister and, for much of his life, a single mom, his defensive instincts ran pretty deep. If she wanted him, he’d lend her Hank anytime she asked.

“Never hurts,” Elliott agreed. “My dad was always trying to get me to take Dodger with me when I ran, too.” She tipped her head toward his legs, one foot crossed over the other. “It must be nice to be a giant and not have to worry about people picking on you.”

“I’m not agiant.” Six-three was tall, but not that tall. “Seriously, though, just let me know if you want to take him. Anytime.”

“Thanks,” she murmured.

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