“Are you back from your aunt’s place for good?” he asks when we finish up the conversation.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll be heading back once Bastian and I get everything settled. Even if she won’t admit it, my aunt’s in over her head and still needs help.”
“For good, or are you coming back here?”
“Maybe for good. Maybe not. I’m not sure,” I reply honestly.
Henry nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he observes me. When he opens his mouth and speaks again, it’s not at all what I expected him to say.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for how things turned out with us,” he admits. “I care about you and could’ve done more to ensure you knew that.”
“Henry, don’t.” My voice comes out surprisingly steady. “You weren’t the only one to blame in our relationship and, to be honest, it probably never would’ve worked. We’re too different.”
His green eyes watch me as he rubs a hand over his full, dark, cropped beard. “Yeah, well, that may be so, but I’m still sorry.”
“I appreciate that.”
We both push to a stand, and Henry extends his hand for me to shake. The finality of this moment is stifling but freeing at the same time. “I wish you the best of luck, Xander. I’m proud of you for all that you’ve accomplished and all that’s to come.”
Coming from anybody else, it would probably feel fake, too professional to be genuine, but from Henry, I know he means it,and something like pride swells in my chest. Not because of who he is to me, but because he’s one of the smartest, most savvy businessmen I’ve ever met.
“Thanks, Henry.” I shake his hand back. “Wish you all the best in life too.”
I leave his office with my shoulders held high. That meeting was closure that I didn’t even realize I needed. It was a door closing to a part of my life that meant a lot to me but no longer serves me. It was the start of a new beginning. A new outlook.
28
COPE MURPHY
Six Weeks Later
The SeaTac airport is a chaotic shitshow if I’ve ever seen one. It’s huge and busy and loud, and I have to wait entirely too long at baggage claim, and then even longer at the checkout counter for my rental car. Once I finally have the keys and climb into the too-small vehicle, I then have to spend an embarrassing amount of time trying to find my wayoutof the airport parking lot.
I’ve been in Washington for all of an hour, and I already miss home. But even the chaos and stress couldn’t dim the excitement I feel at knowing that, in three hours or less, I’m going to see Xander again for the first time in a month and a half. The grand opening for his new store is this afternoon, and I couldn’t be prouder. When he asked me if I’d want to fly out and come to the opening a few weeks ago on FaceTime, there was an obvious note of apprehension in his voice, like he thought I might decline. I’ve never booked a flight so fast in my damn life.
It's coming at a perfect time too. Training and practice have amped up since we’re getting closer to rodeo season, but it waseasy to take a few days off to come here. I’m hoping he’ll get to fly back to Copper Lake soon—before I leave for the circuit—but I don’t know for sure, so this was a great way to ensure I get to see him in the flesh before I leave.
My flight was delayed due to a huge snowstorm we had back home. They had to de-ice the plane and the runway, I guess. Wyoming isn’t a stranger to cold, snowy weather, though, so I’m not sure why something like that would cause a flight delay, but whatever. I’m here now. Had I arrived on time, I would’ve had time to see Xanderbeforehis grand opening, but that’s okay. I’m excited to see him in his element.
Despite both of us being pretty busy—him with the store opening and all that goes into that, and me with training and rodeo prep—we’ve managed to keep in touch the entire time he’s been gone. Part of me wondered if our connection would wither with him so far away, if maybe his attraction to me would dim with him not being next door, but that didn’t happen. We’ve texted every single day since he left Copper Lake, and we’ve even managed to talk on the phone or FaceTime at least a few times a week. Honestly, his need to see me or talk to me so frequently gives me that warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach that, prior to meeting Xander, made no sense to me, because his need matches my own.
I’ve still been going over his aunt’s house at least once a day, to check on her and make sure everything is getting done with the help they hired. Not only do I know it helps put Xander at ease—he’s been nervous about how she’s doing because he knows she wouldn’t tell him if anything was wrong—but I also have become really fond of Colette and her farm full of animals. She can be a stubborn woman who has a hard time accepting help, but her face always lights up when I come over with goodies I’ve baked. Me and Larry have been bonding as well. He’s always sitting in the window when I walk up the steps, andhe stretches and meows when he spots me. When Colette opens the door, he brushes up against my legs until I pet him. But Xander was on the nose… Colette and Larrydo notget along. He wants nothing to do with her, and it’s pretty funny. She tried to get him back from the door the first morning I went over there, and he hissed at her and slapped her leg before scurrying off.
The drive from the airport to his new location in Seattle, with traffic, takes me about an hour, and the grand opening is already in full swing by the time I park the rental car. The parking lot is full, and I had to park on the street about a block up from the store. My heart is pounding, palms shaky and slick, and what can only be described as butterflies take over my gut as I approach the shop. The neighborhood is nice, and has a cute small-town feel to it. Rows of businesses go on for blocks. Xander’s is sandwiched between two. From the outside looking in, I can’t tell exactly what they are. They aren’t open yet, whatever they are.
Standing outside are two tall, large men. They’re checking IDs of everyone coming in. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my wallet, and have my license ready to give them when it’s my turn. The line moves swiftly, and a few minutes later, I’m stepping inside.
The scent of marijuana hangs in the air—not overwhelming, just present. There’re a couple of different rows of glass countertops; the type you’d see in a comic book shop or a bakery. The space in here is larger than you’d think looking in from the outside, and it’s packed with people. Chatter fills the air, and looking to my left, down toward the other side of the building, I spot Xander.
A smile tugs on my lips as I watch him. He’s talking to a few guys, animatedly using his hands. His black hair is styled and out of his face, and he’s got a wide grin that feels like a physical force wrapping around the organ in my chest. He’s toofar away for me to hear what he’s saying, but whatever it is, he’s passionate about it. Xander’s dressed in a long-sleeve black shirt, tight jeans, and a clunky pair of Doc Martins. It’s a simple outfit, a plain one, that on anybody else, I probably wouldn’t even look twice at. But on him? Oh yeah, it fucking works for me.
I don’t even know how long I sit there watching him, but he eventually notices me. Bright blue eyes drag from the people in front of him, to meet my gaze, and when he does, the grin on his face intensifies. Excusing himself, he crosses the room, over to where I’m standing like a love-sick puppy, and I swear my heart tries to jump out of my chest and cling to him as he approaches.
“You made it!”
His clean, fresh scent envelops me as he comes to a stop a few inches in front of me. My fingers itch to reach out and touch him. It’s been too fucking long.
“Sorry, I’m late,” I tell him. “My flight was delayed, and then there was traffic getting here.”
