Page 35 of Touch the Sky
Her voice sounds like it’s coming from far away, like I’ve slipped deep underwater. She releases my hand, and the loss of contact forces me back to the surface again.
“Huh?”
“Your last name,” she repeats. “I don’t even know it yet.”
“Tully.”
“Tess Tully,” she says, like she’s trying the sound out.
Like she’s giving it a taste.
My throat goes dry.
“Yep,” I say, somehow managing not to wheeze. “That’s me.”
The chaos of the crowd is still raging around us, patrons swarming in and out of the seats and the bar swamped with a constant demand for more drinks. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional shout or cheer fills the air, all of it layered over the backing track of classic rock on the speakers.
For a moment, I can’t hear any of it.
For one impossible and extremely inconvenient moment, there’s just her.
That’s all it is, though: a moment.
That’s all I can let myself have. I’m not here to flirt with Jacinthe Gauthier-Laframboise. I’m not here to flirt with any woman.
I’m here to find a place for me and my daughter to live. Nothing else is allowed to come first.
“So,” I say, “we’re supposed to be getting to know each other, right? To see if this lease will work out?”
Jacinthe nods. “Ouais, I think that was the plan for tonight.”
“So tell me about you.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “What do you want to know?”
I shrug. “What should I know? Got any bad habits? Dark secrets? Murderous ex-girlfriends who might show up at the property in the dead of night?”
She chuckles, and I can’t tell if I’m reading too much into things or if there really is a bitter note to the sound.
“Ben non, I don’t think you have to worry about that. I haven’t had a girlfriend for a long time.”
I slouch against the back of the booth and take another sip of my beer. I’ve only got a few dregs of the amber liquid left.
“Oh?” I ask when she doesn’t elaborate.
She purses her lips and shifts her jaw around while she works out what to say.
“Life has been…busy,” she explains. “You know, with the farm and my mom and now the inn. I don’t really have time for it.”
Story of my life.
“I get that,” I tell her, a knot of sympathy tightening in my chest. “I’ve only tried seriously dating once since Shel was born.”
It was a disaster, of course. Claire and I only dated for about six months, but it was enough to convince me there isn’t room for parentinganda serious relationship in my life—not if I want to keep everyone happy.
Jacinthe tries her best to hide her shock, but I can still tell her eyebrows are fighting not to creep up her forehead again.
“Shel’s ten, right?” she says in a carefully neutral tone.
