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“Of course.” He nods. “All of the reports are in your email and Heather will call you for a follow up.”
“Thanks.”
The screen blacks and I scrub my hand across my jaw. I was always waiting for that moment. The moment when all the stars aligned, and I could make everything right.
But you know what they say about the best laid plans.
Chapter 9
Tilly
Mornings are my favorite. When you just crack open your eyes. The world is still quiet. Your bed warm. That small moment in time when you can just lay there and pretend you don’t have a million responsibilities. That moment when you forget all the bad things life has thrown at you. It takes your brain a minute or two to reset and then you’re alerted. It ends all too soon.
Life isn’t going to stop. The world keeps spinning whether you are ready or not.
The watch on my wrist vibrates, sending a jolt through my relaxed body. I glance down at the screen and see Blaine’s name.
Pushing up on my elbows, I reach for my hearing aids that are charging on my night stand. Slipping them in, I snatch my phone up and answer as I pad to the bathroom.
“Hey.” I smile.
“Morning, sweetheart.” His voice flows through just as I flip on the light.
“When are you coming to town? Today?” I ask.
“Miss me?” He chuckles.
Do I? Or am I wanting a buffer?
I ignore the thought and answer accordingly. “Yes.”
“I have meetings today with clients.”
I sit down on the toilet seat.
“I’m driving my parents down Saturday evening for the dinner,” he adds.
The dinner. Right.
We’re having a family dinner this weekend. Blaine insisted our families meet. Which is fine. I’ve met his parents once. They seem nice. Wealthy. I was surprised they agreed to come to Timber Creek. Especially The Peak. It doesn’t seem like their scene.
“Ok. Will y’all be staying the night?” I ask hopeful.
“No. I’ll drive them back,” he says before he’s muttering to someone else in the background.
“Can’t they just Uber and you stay?”
Because I need you to be the barrier.
Oh, because that worked so well last time, Tilly, I silently scold myself.
I close my eyes when he says, “Sorry, babe. I have a golf game scheduled with a new potential client Sunday morning. T off is at eight.”
I huff out a sigh.
“This will all be easier when you move to the city,” he says.
“I thought you were selling the condo?” I frown.
