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“Three weeks . . . twenty days if you want to be specific.” I looked up at the sky. “Should I send you an invitation?”
“Do you need me to be there?”
I snapped my head toward him. Genuine concern stared back at me.
And for a moment, I smiled. This was what I’d been missing since being in New York. I could be me with Cagan. Genuine. Honest. How I’d missed my friends.
“No,” I finally said. “Will you think about helping me? Please.” I was begging, but if it got me out of marrying Alex, I’d do it forever.
His eyes softened with apology. “Beau, I—”
“Don’t say no yet,” I said quickly. “Get your shipping port running again, then consider it on the flight home. Think about what you want in return.”
“Beau . . .” he said warily.
“Please.”
He sighed. “I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising anything.”
I threw my arms around him. “Thank you.”
Relief that I just might get out of this raced through me.
“No promises,” he said more firmly.
“How about to keep this between us?” My elation was out of control. He hadn’t said yes, but I felt as if he had.
“That I can do.”
Chapter Eight
Cal
“First round is on you.”
Vigiano slapped my shoulder with a grin.
Damn. In the frenzy of the past two days, I’d forgotten my promise to hang out. We’d spent all day putting out a monster of a blaze, and I just wanted to go home.
And text Beau.
No. I didnotneed to be doing anything stupid like that. Beers with Vigiano was the perfect solution.
“Scopetta and Brennan are coming too.”
“I’m not paying for their sorry asses.” I toweled off my chest, the idea of going to the bar growing on me.
I hadn’t seen my friends much outside of work. Sometimes I had more than enough of them there. Maybe I’d have something stronger than beer so I’d go home and pass out.And not invite Beau over.Because I had to cut this thing off.
You should’ve never let it go on this long.
I shouldn’t have started it in the first place. But when I’d seen her again at Cassano’s funeral, that fire of hate in her eyes when she looked at me, I wanted to tame that blaze. Turn it into something else.
Vigiano pulled on a T-shirt. “Hell of a day, wasn’t it?”
“Crazy.” I rifled through my bag for a pair of clean jeans.
“You’ve been quiet lately.”
