“I love him, too.” I pour tea for both of us and bring the mugs to the table. “I promise you I do.” I pull out a chair across from hers. “And I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make him happy. I realize that our marriage was sudden and we haven’t been together very long, but I know Nash and I are going to last.”
Joy glances down, studying the steam rising from her cup, the intimacy of the conversation seeming to make her a little nervous. “I married my husband six weeks after we met. I was only sixteen, and my mama swore I’d be back home in a month, but Pete and I will have been married for thirty-two years this December. Sometimes, you just know.”
I smile. “Yeah, you do.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping our tea while Felicity devours all of her peach-cube dessert, and I ponder the best way to welcome Nash home tomorrow.
Within minutes, I have an idea.
“Joy, what’s Nash’s favorite kind of cake?”
“Red velvet with cream cheese icing,” she says fondly. “He’s had that same cake for every birthday since he was eight years old.”
Red velvet with cream cheese icing. I can work with that.
And if I start tonight…
By the time Joy and I finish our tea, I have an idea of what I’d like to do. By the time I walk her to the door, I’m mentally checking through my list of ingredients, and by the time Felicity’s ready for bed, the batter is ready to go into the oven.
I stay up half the night baking, but I’m still up and out of bed early the next morning to do some last-minute shopping, determined to give Nash a welcome home he’ll never forget.
I can’t wait to see him again.
Even better, I can’t wait to hear him promise he’s home to stay.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nash
Friday is the longest workday of my entire career.
By the time three o’clock rolls around I’m checking the clock every five minutes, so anxious to be home I can’t sit still for more than a few seconds at a time.
Mom said her visit with Aria went well, and I feel good about the conversation I had with Bob—we agreed to be mutually respectful, even if we might never be great friends—but I haven’t talked to Aria all week.
I have no idea what she’s thinking.
Maybe the time apart made her realize that she jumped into this relationship too soon. She might want to take a step back. She might have decided I’m an asshole for leaving and that she and Felicity are better off without me.
I certainly feel like an asshole. All our time out accomplished was to make it abundantly clear I’m more hooked on Aria March than exercise and late-night ice cream combined.
The thought of living the rest of my life without her is soul crushing.
I’ve almost called her cell a hundred times, but I forced myself to stay away from the phone. She might still be thinking, and I should have the self-discipline to give her space to do that—especially considering I’m the one who thought we needed time apart.
“Stupid asshole,” I mutter.
“What’s that?” Kelly, one of the new IT staff, pushes through the glass door to my office. “Did you call for me, Captain?”
“No, sorry,” I say. “Just…talking to myself. Any updates from your department?”
“Yes. All good news. We’re making excellent progress,” Kelly says. “The new system should be up and running by next week.”
“Good.” I glance at the clock over Kelly’s shoulder.
Still another hour and a half to go.
Damn it.
“Anything else?” I ask, my irritation with the clock audible in my voice.
“Yes, um… Well, everyone outside wants you to go home early,” Kelly says, pulling my focus back to her flushed face. “They say you’re being a huge grouch, and you should just start the weekend now.”
“And they sent you in to deliver the message?” I scan the room full of desks outside my office, but not a single staff member or officer dares to meet my narrowed gaze.
Everyone seems to be working especially hard this afternoon, in fact.
“They said you wouldn’t yell at me because I’m new.” Kelly’s pitch rises slightly as she adds, “They were right, weren’t they? I’m not in trouble?”
“You’re not in trouble,” I assure her, scooting my chair back. “But tell them I’ll be back Monday morning, and—grouchy or not—I’ll be staying the entire day. And if I find out anyone else left early today, heads will roll, got that?”
“Yes, sir.” Kelly practically trips over her own feet in her haste to leave my office. “Have a good weekend, sir.”
I don’t reply. I can’t make any predictions about the “goodness” of my weekend. Or of my life.
The only way either is going to be tolerable is if Aria says yes.