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He stalked out of the bedroom instead of voicing that question. The answer was obvious, and she had to get to work. Asking it would just lead to a fight that he could script himself anyway. He’d proven his selfishness a long time ago, and a few road trips wouldn’t change that. Until he actually made the move to Chicago, she would keep a small part of herself locked up in case he broke her heart.
He yanked the tin of coffee and a filter out of the cupboard and jerked the carafe out of the coffee maker hard enough to move the machine a few inches toward the sink. The rush of cold water at the sink almost disguised Laney’s approach, but he felt her warmth a second before she pressed her body full against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her mere touch calmed him. Their relationship was still new, for all of their history, and if this was their only speed bump they were doing okay. Real life was bound to be messy. They were going to disagree about life decisions.
“I love you.” She breathed the words into his t-shirt and he took another deep breath. “I’m sorry. I hope that the meeting goes well.”
He turned. She smiled up at him. Yeah, she loved him. He cupped her face in his hands. “I’m just exploring options.”
“I know. I’m excited. But I’m nervous, too.” She fluttered her hands around her head, as if warding something off. “It’s so much to think about. And I want to focus on you. Just you. Right here, with me, for a week.”
“I want more than a week.”
She gripped his hands and pulled herself up, silencing him with a quick kiss. “Make coffee, my man. I gotta go.”
He grinned. He liked the sound of that. Her man. Yes, he was. And would be forever. But the logistics of making that happen mattered, and if Laney didn’t want to think about the details, he’d take it all on himself.
She opened the door to a bouquet of delicious aromas. Sautéed onion and garlic, sweet sausage, and apples and cinnamon. “Honey, I’m home!” She made the appropriate noises of appreciation on her way past the kitchen to dump her bag at her desk, then padded into her closet to change into comfy clothes.
“What’s your poison?” Kyle appeared in the bedroom doorway holding an oversized goblet of red wine and a bottle of beer.
Laney grinned, took the wine glass with both hands and tipped it to her mouth. “Mmmmm. You spoil me.”
He leaned in for a kiss, and she shared the taste of the baco noir with him. “And you smile at me, and kiss me like that, and it hardly seems like a fair trade.”
“What’s for dinner?”
“Sausage, white beans and kale.” Her stomach growled, and he chuckled. “I’m glad you approve. And I picked up an apple crisp for dessert, and the second season of The Wire.”
He’d introduced her to the show on one of her weekend visits and she was addicted to watching it with him, stretched out on the couch.
“See? Spoiled.” She set her wine down on her dresser, wrapped her arms around his neck and licked the triangle of skin exposed by his partially unbuttoned dress shirt. “I’m looking forward to more of this house husband luxury once school is out for the summer.”
He slid his hand into his pocket and rolled the thin platinum band between his index finger and thumb. He couldn’t have planned a better segue himself. He drifted a light kiss across her mouth and moved his lips to her ear. “I like the sound of that.”
She arched her back, pillowing her breasts against his chest. “Husband?”
“Mmmm. And summer.”
“Too bad it’ll only be for two months, but—”
“—It doesn’t need to be—”
“—it’s really for the best that we don’t rush anything, right?”
Kyle left the ring in his pocket, and shifted back with a sigh. Now was clearly not the right time. He kissed her again, but this time it was perfunctory, a transition out of the conversation. “Come on, let’s eat.”
Laney trailed behind him. He could feel confusion radiating off her at his abrupt change in tone, but given how his day had gone, he wasn’t sure he’d have the upper hand in that argument—logic and reason weren’t on his side. And that was the kicker. It wasn’t that Laney didn’t want him to live with her. She just wouldn’t ask him to give up his career, and apparently, her concern had been well placed. And since she was the smartest person he’d ever met, he was pretty sure that it would only take her another few minutes to figure that out.
“Hey, how was your day?” Apparently not even a few minutes. “I’m sorry, I should have asked first thing.”
Instead of answering, he busied himself filling bowls and finding cutlery.
“Kyle?”
He took his time settling their dinner out at the island, then leaned one hip against the counter and crossed his arms. He was disappointed, but it didn’t change anything, so there was no reason to overstate the situation. “It turns out that it’ll be a challenge to get hired here as an elementary teacher.” He tried to wave Laney off as she sucked in a breath and moved toward him, arms outstretched. “Sweetheart, it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.” She squeezed him hard around the middle. “I’m sorry. Again. This is why I didn’t want you to rush into moving here. We can do the long distance thing for a while, and I’ll see what I can do about maybe organizing a winter locum in Detroit or London. And we’ll hire an immigration lawyer.”
“No. No more half measures. No more waiting. The back and forth is fine for the short term, but I feel like I’m holding my breath for twelve days at a time. That’s not how I want to live my life.”
