Page 93 of Before I Let Go

“Thank you for everything,” I tell Merry. “We’ll be in touch.”

She gives me a knowing smile, but lets me go and waves goodbye.

The Uber pulls up to the curb and I climb in gratefully. When we were in the restaurant, time seemed to fly by, but now that we’re done, the long day is catching up with me. We spent more than four hours with Merry and Ken. Once we reach the room, I don’t want to move until we have to fly back.

The room.

Meeting Merry and Ken, checking out the restaurant, distracted me from the clear and present danger waiting in room 428. I have to sleep with Josiah mere feet away.

“Let’s talk about it when we get back, yeah?” Harvey leans into Josiah’s window, brows arched questioningly.

“Okay.” Josiah gives a little salute and rolls up the window. Harvey pats the car twice and strolls back into the restaurant as we pull off. I let my head loll against the seat.

“So what’d you think?” I ask, watching him through the slits of my lashes, eyes growing heavy with fatigue.

Josiah rests his head on the leather seat behind him, linking his hands across the tautness of his stomach. “I think it’s a great opportunity.”

“Agreed.”

“We have to weigh what it will cost financially, of course, but also what it will require of us.” He turns his head to look at me. “I would have to be here a lot in the initial stages. If I’m not around as much, more falls on you with the kids.”

“I’d be fine with that, I think. It’d only be for a season.” I catch his eyes in the dimming light of early evening. “It could be great for us. Help us set up the kids well.”

“Yeah. I did think of that, of course. College fund, money to help with their first car, first house.”

“Mama couldn’t afford any of that. I was lucky to get a partial scholarship, and paying back those student loans was rough in the beginning. I want better for them.”

“Byrd definitely didn’t have the money to help me with my car, that secondhand Honda.”

“Secondhand?” I laugh. “That was more like fourth- or fifth-hand.”

“Hey.” He fake frowns. “I worked at a car wash all summer saving for that thing.”

I bend forward a little, giggling. “And had the nerve to pick me up for our first date in that death trap. I should have gotten a tetanus shot after sitting in that tore-up front seat. Literally tore up from the floor up.”

“I can’t believe I drove you around in it.” A smile bends his lips, and his shoulders shake with a silent laugh. “Or that there was a second date.”

“Remember we had to rig the seat belt?”

“And we got stopped by that cop?”

“Um, we didn’t getstoppedby the cop,” I remind him. “We were parked behind that fried-chicken spot that caught fire over off Moreland.”

“Shit.” He runs a hand over his head, laughing. “You’re right.”

“He banged on the windows with that flashlight because they were all fogged up and we were…”

Fucking.

Steam-drenched memories waft around us. Me on top in the front seat, thighs spread over him, dress pooling at my waist, panties pushed aside so he could get in. We couldn’t make it home. Josiah had pulled into the abandoned lot when it was late and there was no one around because wehadto have each other. Urgent heat had burned through common sense and caution.

My heart hammers a frantic beat and my lungs are breath-starved. I lick my lips, and he tracks the movement, heavy-lidded eyes smoldering from the memory or from this moment, I’m not sure.

I cough and sit up straight. Josiah turns away to look out the window, effectively shutting down the conversation. The last few minutes of the ride we spend in silence, the city a whir of bright lights and holiday optimism strung through branches and suspended from the stars like tinsel.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Josiah

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