got to his trailer, he kicked off his boots, turned up the heat, and sat down. He didn’t feel like doing anything really, but he finally opted to stream a movie. As he was settling in, his phone dinged with an incoming text.
Unknown: Happy Thanksgiving. Any meteor showers tonight?
Bree! His heart leaped.
Cage: Happy Thanksgiving. Hard to tell. It’s snowing here.
Unknown: Here, too.
Clearly, she wasn’t in SoCal any longer.
Cage: Where are you? Are you okay?
His phone rang. He picked it up immediately.
“I’m fine.” The sound of her voice was like a balm to his soul. “I hope you don’t mind me calling. It’s easier than texting. Plus, I wanted to hear a friendly voice.”
“I don’t mind. Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
“Yes. Holidays can be hard sometimes. I figured you’d understand.”
He did understand.
“Normally, I’d spend the day with my cousin Toni, but she and her boyfriend eloped. They’re down in Cozumel on their honeymoon.”
“Nice.”
“They actually asked me to go along, but that would have been weird, don’t you think?”
He chuckled, just happy to hear her voice. “Yeah, it would have. We had a wedding here, too. Mad Dog and Kate.”
“Yeah? Good for them.”
They talked for a long time. She asked about everyone and how they were doing. He told her about the new wing and how they’d been busting their asses to get it done in time for the holidays. It was pleasant, polite, topical conversation but not what he really wanted to know. Like where she was. What she was doing. Why she was no longer working at the Sentinel Voice.
If she missed him as much as he missed her.
The problem was, he didn’t know how to bring up any of that without sounding like a stalker.
“I read the piece you did on Sanctuary. You made us sound pretty good.”
“Because you are,” she told him. “And what you’re doing is a great thing. I’m surprised you even saw it. It was buried pretty deep.”
“Thanks for not ...”
“Selling you out?” She laughed. “I was tempted, you know.”
“Why didn’t you? It would have made a hell of a story.”
“The price was just too high. I wasn’t willing to hurt anyone for the sake of ratings or a promotion. In fact, I chose to walk away. I handed in my resignation the same day I handed in the article.”
Well, that answered one of his questions. “What are you doing now?”
“Figuring things out.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“You already have,” she told him softly. “More than you know.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that. For the first time, silence stretched awkwardly between them. There were so many things he wanted to say, but they didn’t quite make it past the lump in his throat. He wondered if the silence on her end meant she was having the same problem.
“I really enjoyed talking to you tonight, Nick.”
“Me, too.”
“Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will. You, too.”
Connection broken, Cage threw his phone across the room in frustration. “Fuck!”
Chapter Forty-Six
Bree
Bree put the phone down and sighed. She’d called Nick, needing to hear his voice. Needing to know if her mind had embellished her memories with time and distance.
They hadn’t.
The last couple of hours of talking to him on the phone were the most at peace she’d felt in months. His voice, soft and rich, still managed to wrap around her heart.
Their conversation also answered another question burning deep in her soul, something she’d wondered a time or a thousand: did he miss her as much as she missed him?
As it turned out, he did.
Oh, he hadn’t come right out and said so in so many words, but she knew. She’d heard it in his voice. Sensed it in meaningful pauses, in the things he hadn’t said but wanted to. She knew because, deep down, she felt exactly the same way.
And it filled her heart with joy.
A lot of things had changed since she’d left Sumneyville—her most of all. Working on the Sanctuary piece, talking to the men and women who’d made the project a reality, prompted her to look in the mirror and reevaluate her own goals. What was she working toward? And for whose purpose—hers or someone else’s?
Her difficult self-assessment revealed several things.
First, even though she loved writing and doing research, she didn’t particularly like her job. She felt like an insignificant cog in someone else’s wheel. As long as she stayed there, nothing would ever change.
Second, Charlie had been partially right. She didn’t have killer instincts, but she discovered a deep-seated sense of right and