The Other Side of Us - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,77
that she was thinking about the call from her boss.
“How’s that list of pros and cons going?” he asked.
“I think I’m still freaking out. This little voice in the back of my head keeps telling me what a great opportunity it is and asking how I could possibly not take it. But the new ideas I have for Mary are so clear in my mind, I can practically see how this documentary is going to look.”
“You want to talk it through?”
She considered for a beat, then met his gaze. “Not just yet. I need to process a little more. Get past the shock and my first panicky reaction to grab on to what Gordon’s offering, no matter what. Is that okay?” She looked worried, as though she though he would be wounded because she wasn’t discussing it with him.
“Of course.”
Her expression softened. “Thanks. For everything. For finding Mary and being so great about searching through all those boxes—”
“Not to mention for being so awesome in bed.”
She laughed, her breath warming his chest. “I can’t believe I haven’t mentioned that, like, a million times already. Very remiss of me.”
He trailed a hand down her side. “Did I mention I’ve already thought of a way you can make that up to me?”
She allowed him to draw her closer. “I seem to have a lot of making-up scheduled.”
“I know. Better get started.”
They fooled around a little, teasing one another. After a few minutes he nuzzled a kiss into her neck, then lifted his head. “Where did you want to go to dinner?”
“Right. Dinner.” There was an odd note in her voice that caught his attention.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“How would you feel if we didn’t stay the night in the city and we went back to the beach instead?”
“Sure. If that’s what you want.” He wasn’t invested either way, and it would be no hardship to say goodbye to this apartment.
Her gaze scanned his face, worried. “You really don’t mind? You didn’t have your heart set on a big-city meal and bright lights?”
“Nope.”
She looked relieved. “Good. Because I really don’t want to spend the night in this place.” She glanced at him. “Does that sound nuts?”
She’d surprised him. This was her place, after all. Her primary place of residence. “Why don’t you want to stay?”
“It just doesn’t feel...right. I can’t explain it any better than that. The coffee, the Coke, the shoes. This carpet, that window. I feel as though they belong to another life. To another me.” She made an embarrassed noise. “That really does sound nuts, doesn’t it?”
She was frowning and he reached out to smooth her brow.
“You haven’t lived here for a while, that’s all.”
“I guess. Although, when I look around, I wonder if I ever lived here. I was always so busy working. Those books out in the living room—I’ve probably read about ten percent of them. I think I’ve used the oven only half-a-dozen times. When I bought this place after the divorce, I thought it would be great for dinner parties, but I was always too snowed at work to host any sort of party.”
She sounded bemused, and he was reminded, again, of what a profound impact the accident had had on her life.
“Maybe you can have a dinner party when you move back.” He felt an odd pang as he imagined Mackenzie hosting a party in her fabulous apartment at some unknown future time. It was a million miles away from the world they shared together at the beach.
“Yeah, maybe.” Her gaze was troubled as she looked at him. She started to say something, then shook her head.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She shifted to the edge of the bed. “If we leave now, we should be home in time for dinner.”
She stood. He watched as she started to dress, turning away to pull on her jeans. The bumps of her vertebrae looked incredibly fine and fragile as they marched down her back. He wondered what she’d been about to say, and why she’d chosen not to say it.
Something about her apartment or Gordon’s job offer, maybe?
Something about him?
Oliver knew he should ask, but he wasn’t ready for what she might say if it was the latter. Not yet.
There was still time yet. Ten more days.
Following her lead, he started to get dressed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SMITTY WAS WAITING by the door when they arrived at her cottage. Mackenzie prepared herself for the happy dance, but instead he whined anxiously and trotted up the hallway, glancing over his shoulder to see if she was