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Still chuckling, he slid down to sit beside her, a respectful twelve inches away. Eyes closed as she caught her breath, her hand rested on the floor, and he had a sudden urge to cover it with his. He caught himself, just in time, shaken by the strange desire.
Folding his arms safely across his chest he asked, “Does this mean you want the job?”
“Let me think about it for a while.”
Her serious eyes looked up through thick blonde lashes, devoid of makeup. He’d forgotten that simple way to tell the two apart. He’d never seen Carlie without it.
“How long do you need to think?”
“There are a lot of things to consider.” She pursed her plump lips, sporting a deeply contemplative expression. “Can I get back to you… say… by the end of the next minute?”
He almost lost it, but kept a sober gaze. “I don’t know if I can hold the position open that long.”
“In that case, the answer is you bet your sweet bippy, I do!”
They chuckled together and sat in comfortable silence as she wrinkled her brows.
“When can you start?” he asked.
“I’ll give my boss two-weeks’ notice today. But usually when that happens, you’re out the next day. So, how about tomorrow?” The smile she gave him made his chest feel warm.
“Let’s see… tomorrow’s Thursday. Sounds good. I’ll arrange an orientation with your team leader.” He noticed the direction of her gaze, aimed at his pant-covered legs, the left one collapsed from above the knee, outlining the slim profile of his prosthesis, which ended in a shoe that matched the right side. “Looks weird, huh?”
“Not weird.” She shrugged. “Just different. I thought there used to be a bulky part at the top where it straps on.”
“You’re right.” He was surprised she’d remembered that kind of detail. “The stump used to strap into a socket on the prosthesis, but now I’ve got a bone-integrated implant. It’ll attach to my walking leg or my running leg.”
“So you don’t get sore spots where the prosthesis attaches anymore?” Her head tilted as she worried her lower lip between her teeth.
“With the implant, there aren’t any pressure points at all. But when they put the implant in, I had to go six months without putting any weight on it. Six months of crutches! It was a pain, but it was worth it.” It occurred to him that he couldn’t ever remember talking about his prosthesis with Carlie. Why was that? Had she been squeamish about it?
“They’ve come a long way with prosthetics.” Her eyes went unfocused, as if she were contemplating something deep.
“What I have is state of the art, but most people can’t afford an integrated implant. Limitless has grants to help as many kids as possible.”
Shifting her position, she cleared her throat. “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal, but how are you feeling? Is the cancer… are you doing okay?”
“I don’t mind talking about it.” He didn’t share health details with many people—usually only Bran, Finn, and Cole. But for some reason, he didn’t mind telling Rylie about his cancer. Maybe because he was engaged to her sister, so she was practically family. “I had a scare a few years ago—had to have surgery and chemo. But it’s currently in remission.”
For a fleeting second, he thought he saw tears in her eyes. But it must’ve been a shifting shadow. Rylie never cried. She’d mentioned that fact one time, and Carlie had confirmed it to be true.
“I’m really glad,” she said, muscles working in her throat. Color rose in her face, and she stood up quickly. “I should get back to work. I need to email my boss and finish up one tricky project, so I don’t leave the client in a lurch. I’ll let you know when I can start.”
Her hand extended toward him. He almost laughed that she was offering to heft him up from the floor, since he had so much more mass. But instead, he clasped her slender hand in his and accepted her help, using as much of his own strength as possible as he rose to his feet, while she leaned back, tugging with all her might.
“Thank you,” he said, clinging to her hand an extra second as something pulsed between them.
He caught a glimpse of her blushing cheeks before she tucked her chin down, her hair falling forward to hide her face.
“I thought you always wore your hair in a ponytail,” he wondered aloud.
“I do in public, so people won’t think I’m Carlie. And I usually wear glasses any time I leave the house.”
He’d never thought how uncomfortable it must be to always be mistaken for someone else, as if her own identity had no value. He felt doubly bad for calling her Carlie when he’d first seen her outside the house Saturday morning. He made a lame attempt at an explanation.
“Now that I’ll be hanging around both of you all the time, like I used to when Carlie and I were dating, I won’t be mixing you up.”
“You’re not going to hang around both of us.” Her brows drew down over her eyes. “This time, I’m not going to tag along on all your dates. You and Carlie need to spend time alone. It’s the best thing for both of you. And it’s the best thing for Gabe.”
