breath. “I’ll have to miss work. Can we get Ronan Dineen to cover?”
“Joyce will handle it,” he said, thumbing through his contacts as he started for the stairs. “Give me five to get dressed. I’m driving.”
“Uh—”
He turned midflight, those pale-blue eyes spearing mine. They held past and present, maybe even future, but no matter what, they dared me to argue. And honestly? I needed him to make sure I got there.
“Call Shanahan,” he said and, resuming the climb, reached the top of the stairs in two strides.
* * *
It was only seven-thirty, so I wasn’t surprised when Shanahan didn’t answer his office line. When he didn’t pick up his cell, either, I texted. My mother broke her hip. I just got the call. I have to go to CT. Yes? He would allow it, and if he didn’t, let him send the State Police after me. Edward was driving. I felt safe.
We were barely through the center of Devon, driving through a light, misting rain, when I texted Kevin an identical message. Within seconds, he replied. Are you OK?
My finger hovered over the phone. Kevin had issues with Edward. He had taken a step back after Town Meeting, seeming to accept that Edward’s feelings for me were genuine. Still, I sensed a lingering element of something that was either protectiveness or jealousy.
Whichever, I couldn’t lie, not to Kevin. So I typed, Edward’s driving. He’s being good.
I’d have driven, Kevin texted back, and in the midst of my turmoil, I felt a sweet warmth.
I know. Love you for that.
You okay seeing your mom?
No. But I have to. There’s no one else.
That’s not why you have to.
I smiled at the guy’s insight before typing, I know that, too. I love you, Kev.
He sent two lines of kiss-blowing emojis. Buoyed by those, I dared check out who else had sent texts since People had arrived. There were the usual suspects—Alex, my book group, and—oh yes—Michael Shanahan from last night with a simple Careful, Maggie message. But there was nothing from Grace.
I tried calling. When she didn’t pick up, I left a message with the basics, so that she wouldn’t look for me at work. The message had to be shocking, first mention of my mother, then mention of her fall. Either should have been enough for Grace to immediately call back. When she didn’t, I texted, Are you there? Then I set the phone in my lap and watched the road, but my mind was racing from Grace to Michael to Mom and back. Breathe in, breathe out, repeat.
“Music?” Edward asked.
“No—yes—uh, maybe.” I breathed in. “What do you have?”
He passed me his phone. I scrolled through his stations. Aside from a few additions, the list was the same as when we were married. As was mine, I thought, and the absurdity of the situation struck me. My ex-husband driving me to my mother’s house?
In some regards, it made perfect sense. Edward knew the situation and the players. He was rational and calm. I trusted him to get me there and back intact.
In other regards, though, it made no sense at all—no sense that the call had come to his phone while he was in my bed, where he had spent the night, with me. It made no sense that he had known to come to me when I was feeling so low, no sense that we still had such a strong emotional connection, no sense that the sex was so good. Our lovemaking had died soon after Lily did. But here it was, reborn hotter than ever.
I studied him without fully turning my head. He wore a black turtleneck, jeans, and his barn jacket, so only his head and hands were bare. His profile was strong, but his hands were what fascinated me now—fingers that were solid and agile, that had touched every inch of my body last night and brought so much pleasure. That I should be so turned on by Edward in spite of all the grief we’d shared made no sense at all.
And yet, sitting here with him in a mix of new car, virile man, and misty rain smells, hearing the shush of the tires speeding over the road and a crescendo of shushing when we passed or were passed, it felt like the most natural thing of all.
I didn’t need music. Between sounds and thoughts, there was plenty of noise. Handing back the phone, I focused on the road. Visibility wasn’t great; we drove in and out of