Page 86 of Eight Years Gone

“This could be the best of both worlds. Lots of this.” He gestured to the two of them. “And a little of that. Plus, I can still work with Todd.”

“I think this sounds great.” And she truly did. She wrapped him up in a hug. “Congratulations.”

He returned her embrace. “Thanks.” He sighed. “If I take this job, I have to leave tomorrow. I’ll miss the game on Friday.”

“Okay.”

He shook his head. “It’s not. We made plans. Nothing’s more important than you. Than us.”

She smiled, knowing he meant it. “There will be other football games.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“There’s nothing for you to make up. I want this for you—for your dreams to come true. Whatever they are.”

He sighed as he rested his forehead against hers. “How did I get so lucky, Grace? How are you mine?”

She stroked his skin as her heart melted. “I think we’re both pretty lucky.”

“I’ll be home Saturday afternoon. We can still do chicken cordon bleu.”

“I can’t wait.”

“I should talk to Todd before the next class—work something out with him. Then I need to call Jason and get things set up.”

“Go get ’em, tiger.”

He grinned. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes, and that reminds me.” She broke their embrace to move to her purse, digging in. “This is for you to use when you want to.”

He stared at the key she’d had made when she stopped off at the hardware store this morning.

She nibbled her lip, knowing that it was a big step. But they were already eight years behind. “If you want it, that is.”

“Yes.” He pulled her to him again. “Yes, Grace.”

She grinned. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He kissed her, waved in the doorway, then walked down the hall.

She stared at the floor for several seconds, acknowledging her fears that he would get a taste of his old life and walk back out of hers again.

“No,” she said out loud. She wasn’t living like that anymore—constantly questioning. Jagger would stay, or he would go. Hopefully, he would stay.

Walking around her desk, sitting down with a job to do, she ejected the memory card from her camera to upload her shots to Instagram, deciding that she would be making Jagger a celebration dinner tonight.

Mentally adjusting her schedule, she slotted enough time to stop at the store for meatloaf and sour cream and chive mashed potato ingredients—Bea’s recipes. One of his all-time favorite meals.

Twenty

Jagger spotted the outline of the big abandoned barn in the overgrown field and impatiently gave the Stingray more gas.

Typically, the old landmark was a welcome sight, but tonight it was a reminder that he was still a good ten miles from Preston Valley.

“Damn,” he whispered, resisting the urge to press the pedal to the floor.

When he’d hopped on the five o’clock flight from DC to Scranton, he’d figured he would have time to change his clothes, then head over to the football field for halftime.

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