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“Morning,” I mumbled, focused on making my way to the coffeepot.

“You look rough,” Doc said with a smirk. “And here I thought Irishmen could handle long nights at the pub.”

Dad barked out a laugh as I pretended to elbow Doc and swallowed the first sip of the good stuff. “Funny. Full of craic this morning, yeah?”

“Something like that.”

Darci looked like I felt. Depressed as hell. “Hudson’s off to Chicago today.”

I shuffled over to her stool and wrapped my arm around her from behind, kissing her on the head. “I know, love. It’ll just be us chickens. Think we can keep each other company?”

“Will you teach me how to pour a pint if I come by the pub later?”

“Of course I will. Be sure and bring your friends for a few rounds of darts. I’ll see if I can find a photo of Hudson and run copies to put on the dart boards. Serves him right for leaving us.”

That got a smile out of her.

We got on with our breakfast routine as usual, and when it came time for me to head to the pub, I remembered my goodbye with Hudson the previous night.

“You’ll let me know when you arrive? Eat a hotdog for me? Let me know if it’s truly windy there? And phone sex me tonight?” I’d asked, batting my eyelashes.

He’d smiled. “Slipped that one in there, huh?”

“It had to be said.”

We’d kissed for a long time before I’d finally pulled away. I’d gazed at his lovely face. “Don’t fuck anyone else in the city,” I warned.

“Damn. And I had such big plans too. You think if I did, I might get to see that Irish temper again?”

“You haven’t seen Irish temper yet, Hudson Wilde. If you’re lucky, I’ll show you this weekend when you get home.”

I arrived at work with a big smile on my face and the memory of his twinkling eyes. Anyone could make it a handful of days before seeing their love, right?

But it turned out to be a full week. Because his first meeting turned into more meetings. I could hear the excitement in his voice and began to realize he was happy there. Which, of course, gave me mixed feelings. I was thrilled he would be going to a good situation, but I was selfishly disappointed he was so happy there.

We called and texted plenty. Several times a day, every day. But it was damned near impossible to feel close to someone that way. It reminded me of how useless any of this was. When I went home to Ireland, we’d never be able to keep it up anyway.

When he cancelled his flight home Thursday night and swore, yet again he only needed one more day, I realized I needed to end things. Make a clean break and let him go to Chicago without the drag of a boyfriend holding him back.

“What’s got you in a funk?” Doc asked Friday morning when we were sitting on the porch swing sipping coffee.

“I miss him,” I said.

“Oh, honey,” he said, moving over closer so he could put his arm around my shoulders and squeeze me into a side hug. “He’ll be home tonight.”

“I know, but this isn’t going to work, and right now it doesn’t even seem like I can get enough time with him to tell him that.”

Doc kissed me on the head.

“He does this, Charlie. Throws himself into his job. Talk to him. Make him to listen.”

I shrugged. “I don’t want to force him to take me into consideration when evaluating his career options. And I sure as hell don’t want to force him to give up work that’s important to him to spend time faffing about with me. But he told me he has to fly back for another meeting in a few weeks. He’ll miss the stock show in Houston. The thing is, he was really looking forward to it. It wasn’t just me. I’ve been to a million of them. But he has a childhood memory of going to the Houston show with Grandpa and seeing the dogs, and he said going back with me was on his bucket list. And now it’ll be over for another year. At this rate, I won’t be here another year. If nothing changes, I’m only here for another month or so.”

I felt like a whiner. This man didn’t want to hear someone disparage his grandson. And, honestly, I didn’t want to be someone who disparaged him either.

“You’re right,” I admitted before he could say anything. “I just need to talk to him.”

After showering and dressing for work, I called him.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said when he answered. The deep comfort of his voice calmed me.

“Hiya, stranger. Look, I know you’re probably busy, but I was hoping to schedule a time for us to catch up. When do you fly back?”

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