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“Nan has a similar philosophy.” He moved the cursor away from the folder. As long as she was opening up, this could be his chance to find out if her career out West in the wide-open spaces had anything to do with her walls-closing-in comment. “I’m assuming the degree in forestry means you love the outdoors. Have you always—”
“Oops. I’m being summoned. I have to run.” The sound of a door opening came over the line, and the background noise once again picked up. “I’ll let you know as soon as I finish my list. Cross your fingers that I find a match. Otherwise, we may be at a dead end.”
Their conversation was over.
Tempted as he was to try to detain her, duty was calling. The moment was lost.
“Enjoy whatever you can salvage of your weekend.”
“Thanks.” The background noise increased. “I’ll give it my best shot. Talk to you soon.”
The line went dead.
Marc pressed the end button, processing the history Bri had shared from the confines of her car—apparently a safer spot for her to have a personal discussion than while sitting within touching distance of him.
Useful information to tuck away for future reference.
He shut down his laptop and stood, unanswered questions scrolling through his mind.
Were her sister and brother blood relations, or had they all been adopted separately?
What had happened to her parents?
Had she been in the foster system?
If so, what kinds of experiences had she had there, and how had they shaped her?
What had gone wrong with the guy she’d known out West?
Had her bad experience left her gun-shy of romance, or was she simply not interested inhim?
And if she decided shewasinterested, what was he going to do about it?
Excellent question.
For as he’d told Nan when he’d come home, romance was a low priority for the immediate future.
But all at once, her advice replayed in his mind.
“Don’t close anydoor too fast. Some only open once.”
So if Bri opened a door, he’d better decide soon whether he wanted to walk through—or perhaps spend the rest of his life regretting a lost opportunity with the most intriguing woman he’d ever met.
TRAVIS SWIPED OFFTHESWEATbeading above his upper lip, cracked his window to refresh the stale air in the car, and eyed the new burner phone clasped in his white-knuckled grip.
He had to call the note writer. He or she had left him no choice.
Yet once he did, his life would get way more complicated than it already was. He knew that as surely as he knew the summerlike warmth of these falls days wouldn’t last.
But sitting in a parking lot stewing about the situation wasn’t going to fix it. He ought to get the facts before he panicked.
He flexed his fingers to restore circulation and tapped in the number from the slip of paper.
After five rings, an androgynous voice greeted him. “Hold.”
Silence followed.
He waited.
