Page 37 of Personal Escort

“Alex isn’t real.”

“I know.”

“So I don’t understand the question.”

“You’re hell bent on assuming that no guy will ever want to follow you around the globe, or maybe even share your wanderlust.”

Nobody I want, anyway. “Are you saying my standards are too high?”

“No, they’re perfect. Don’t settle for anything less than a mate who will follow you to the ends of the earth.” He says it the same way the rest of the conversation has gone, slow and smooth, but the little hairs on my back of neck lift.

I’ve never allowed myself to want that before, to think that was possible for me. But if Toby can see it, maybe one day…

I stretch out, pressing myself deeper into the pillows. “That’s some excellent advice…do you ever believe it for yourself?”

He laughs quietly. “Sure. I want all sorts of things. A family. Dorky domestic stuff like going to a farmer’s market and cooking dinner together. Arguments over throw cushions. That kind of thing sounds awesome. But I’ll never get there if I can’t find someone who understands the unique push and pull of my career.”

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

TOBY

CARA HESITATES BEFORE SHE REPLIES. “I want you to find happiness, too.”

I already have. I don’t know why I said that shit about family and furniture. It’s true, but it’s not what I need to be filling her head with right now.

One thing at a time.

She lets out a little yawn. “I should get to sleep. I’m getting married tomorrow, after all.”

“Not for real.”

“No, but it still feels…”

Wrong. Hasty. Misguided. I want to finish that sentence for her in a dozen discouraging ways, but that’s not what she needs. “How does it feel?”

“Disquieting.”

That’s a better word than I could have come up with, anyway. “Ah, my troublemaker.”

“What’s the weather like there?” she asks abruptly.

I check the app on my home screen. “Low seventies. Nice.”

“It just started raining here. Storm is coming in.”

I stop unpacking my suitcase and listen carefully. I’m grateful for having a suite big enough that I’m not anywhere near a window, so she can’t hear that it’s on my end, too. “Do you like the rain?”

“Love it. I’ve got my windows open.”

“Then you should go to sleep, listening to the rain.”

“I will.” She doesn’t hang up, though. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“Promise not to read too much into it?”

“I promise.”

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