with Cash a little, crouching down to pet his tummy, then kissed me goodbye in the kitchen before heading over to his workshop.
It was so easy to imagine this being our normal. Our forever. Sharing coffee in the morning. Kissing him goodbye. Hearing the muffled sounds of his tools in the building next door.
Living a life with him.
Oliver called shortly after I’d showered and dressed. He’d been talking with Saraya Lin, an artist I’d worked with before. She was writing songs for a new album, but running into trouble. It didn’t sound like a full-blown emergency requiring a Maya-intervention. So after I took Cash outside, I got her on a Skype call.
I propped up my phone on the table in front of the couch and borrowed Gibson’s guitar so I could strum out the melodies she was working with. Cash wedged himself behind my back for a snuggly nap.
Saraya was off to a good start, but she’d hit a creative wall. With probing questions, I coaxed the truth out of her. She’d lost her favorite grandma a few months back and she was still recovering from the loss. But instead of reaching into her grief and using it to fuel her creativity, she’d been trying to push it away. To separate her emotions from her songwriting. Her usual sound wasn’t heavy or mournful. She was known for her upbeat, vibrant music, and she didn’t know how these dark emotions fit.
I encouraged her to try writing a fresh song and let her love of her late grandma be the inspiration. She didn’t have to delve into the darkness of her loss to find inspiration and meaning. She could draw on the good things. On love and happy memories.
Hours later, with my phone about to run out of battery, and Cash constantly licking my face, we had a song. A soft, beautiful, heartfelt song that made Saraya sound like the musical angel she was. It still needed work, but I knew she could handle it. And if she kept that up—allowing her true emotions to meld with her creativity—she’d be just fine.
Gibson came inside smelling of wood stain. He smiled and went into the kitchen to wash his hands, then got down on the floor to snuggle Cash. It was so cute, it made my ovaries ache. He got up again and came back with two glasses of water.
I took one gratefully and gulped down half of it. “Thank you. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was.”
“You all right?”
“Just worn out. I was on a call for most of the day, working with Saraya Lin. She’s a singer and songwriter with Attalon.”
His brow furrowed. “I’ve heard of her. Was she having trouble with something?”
“Yeah, but I think we broke through her wall.”
“So they don’t need you to go to…”
“She’s in Nashville, and no. Besides, Oliver knows I need time. I told him I’m dealing with some big personal things.”
He nodded and took a drink of water. “Is your boss still asking you about me?”
“About your record deal?” I asked. “No, he knows you’re not interested. You’re not interested, right?”
“No.”
“I’m not asking this to push you, I’m just curious. Why not?”
He glanced away for a moment. “That’s just not me. I like playing in little bars like we do now. But if it was something bigger, I don’t think it would be the same anymore. And I don’t want that kind of life.”
I smiled at him. “I know you don’t.”
“So, you worked with her without going anywhere.”
“Saraya? Yeah, why?”
“I’m just wondering if that means you could still do your job but stay in one place, at least some of the time.”
“I think I’ll have options going forward. I didn’t travel so much because I had to, necessarily. I wanted to. I was always bugging Oliver to send me somewhere new as soon as I finished every project.”
He rubbed his chin, his brow furrowing again. “I wouldn’t hate traveling sometimes.”
God, he was adorable. “No?”
“As long as I was here enough to take care of my clients. And we’d have to think about Cash.”
“So, you’re saying if I traveled less, you could come with me.”
“I ain’t saying I’d go on some world tour with a bunch of fucking head-up-their-asses rock stars. But if you need to travel to keep doing what you love, I think we can make it work.”
My tummy tingled at this newfound and unexpected sense of contentment. “Are we sitting here planning out our future?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I reckon