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Ethan:
I’m not holding my breath.
Fallon:
Good. You know me better than that.
She’s right. I do. Our friendship gave us the strength to be there emotionally for each other when Austyn was in a horrible automobile wreck. I recall the way my soul eased when I clutched her body to mine during those agonizing hours when we leaned on one another. What I felt was indefinable, almost surreal. She’s woven herself into my life, and I don’t know what will happen if I take a shot and she bolts.
She’s family, but she’s not.
She’s a friend, but she’s more.
She’s just Fallon. And I’m still me.
But this can’t be put off much longer. When the time is right, I’m willing to take a chance on us if she is.
My thumbs fly.
Ethan:
Try to be good?
Fallon:
I’m always good.
Ethan:
No, you’re exceptional. Never forget that.
Fallon doesn’t reply. Knowing I’ll see her tomorrow—even if she doesn’t—I decide I’d better get on with the work I was contracted to.
Booting my computer in my hotel, my fingers dance over the keys as I reread the assignment through my secure email. Still, Fallon lingers in my thoughts even as I prepare to go into deep hunting mode. I forcibly shove her to the back of my mind and concentrate, knowing I was brought into the assignment for a reason.
A painful one that’s going to resurrect secrets and justice close to forty years old.
Even though the citizens of Kensington, Texas believe I repair computers, Uncle Sam didn’t stop at that kind of training. It’s a good thing most people can’t tell the difference between a computer repair shop and a server room that lurks just behind it.
When I recall the volume of government officials and private agencies who have come under deep cover to Texas to procure my services, I’m amused. I specialize in cybercrime investigation and too often come across data no one expects me to unearth. Such was the case with the information I found recently, which is how I ended up being contracted for by my current employer.
Still, despite the implications that are flying fast and furious through the dark web, I needed to be here to see Fallon graduate. Because somewhere between her first 9-1-1 text and now, I’ve fallen for the little minx.
As I predicted, she never returned to Kensington. But hell, how could she? She was offered her dream job just after spring break. Nor do I blame her; I just want to figure out if it’s possible for us to blend our lives together—if that’s what she wants.
I contemplate the kind of family outrage I’m going to stir up when I finally come clean about her, about the depth of my feelings for Fallon. But what if she doesn’t want to be with you? What if you’re too old for her? I slam the door on that idea. I can’t—won’t—let myself think like that.
We’re going to face enough problems as it is.
My heart clenches painfully when I recall how she reacted when I declined her invitation to attend her graduation. Still in my world of denial, I demanded, “What would you have me say, Fallon?”
“That we’re friends? Friends show up when they’re asked,” she retorted.
“I know we’re friends. You know we’re friends. My family has no clue.” A pin dropping could be heard at a hundred paces with the silence between us after I released that bomb.
She whispered, “Still? I told my mother about you and me a long time ago, Ethan.”
That flabbergasted me. “You did?”
