My Kind of Forever - Tracy Brogan Page 0,53

book?” I asked as we turned from Main Street to Ojibwa Boulevard.

“My book? Lots of notes, lots of ideas. Talking to your pal Dmitri was very enlightening. I learned a lot of very useful information from him. And I spent some time at the records office, too.”

We fell silent for a few minutes until we got to my place. Light glowed from my front porch as we turned into my yard. Leo seemed to have sobered up a bit as we walked, and now he strolled on up the steps and right to the door. “You’re going to invite me in this time, aren’t you?”

His company wasn’t unwelcome, but all things considered, inviting him in would not be a wise choice. I was feeling utterly vulnerable, and if he hoped to take things to a new level, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d put up much of a fuss.

“This wasn’t a date, Leo. I’m not sure where in the playbook this might fall, but I’d call it an accidental encounter. Definitely not indicative of a sure thing.”

“Call it whatever you want, and I’m not suggesting you’re a sure thing”—he smiled—“but I’m an optimist, and I’d like to come inside and talk with you some more.”

“Talk?”

“Yes. Maybe if we talk a bit longer, you’ll tell me why you left a wedding reception right in the middle of it.”

“My sister just got engaged.” I hadn’t meant to say that. It just popped out.

He turned to face me, the overhead light creating odd shadows and making it hard to read his expression. “That’s two weddings and a funeral so far. This is a busy place.”

“Yep.”

“Is this sister, um . . . Emily?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t you like the guy?”

“The guy is fine. I mean, the guy is great. I like him a lot, and he adores my sister. And my niece, Chloe, loves him, too, so now she’ll have a stepfather, and that’s really good news.”

“Okay, so why do you sound like it’s not good news?”

Why, indeed? Why did my chest feel tight and my eyes feel hot?

“Because everyone is getting married or having babies or taking on lovers. Sorry to be so blunt, but even my grandmother has decided to shack up with some guy, and it’s all just a lot to take in at one time. I’ve spent my entire life worrying about everybody else, and I had one chance at marriage and it all went wrong. I missed my turn and now it’s too late.”

I somehow managed to sound both annoyed and pathetic, but thankfully Leo’s reaction was inquisitive rather than patronizing.

“Missed your turn?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “How old are you, Brooke?”

“How old am I? What? Are you trying to make me feel worse?”

His chuckle was rueful. “No, of course not. Just tell me.”

“Thirty-six.”

“Okay, well, I’m thirty-five, and I’ve had my heart stomped on a couple of different times, and I’ve stomped on a few, but I hardly think that means I’ve missed my chance.”

“Sure, but you’re a guy, and you don’t live on an island with people you’ve known your entire life.”

“True, but don’t you get lots of visitors here? Like . . . me, for instance?”

He didn’t even realize what a cruel tease he was. “Sure. Guys like you. Guys who don’t live here. Guys who stop by on their way to someplace else, and then they leave. I’m not interested in temporary. I’m looking for forever.” This was his chance. His chance to tell me that he was different. That maybe he would stick around. He’d buy a cottage and write that book so we’d have time together and see if what we’d started was worth pursuing.

“You don’t have to stay here, you know. You could leave,” he said.

Not the response I was hoping for. “I can’t leave now. I just became the mayor.”

“But you were a teacher before that. Couldn’t you go be a teacher someplace else?”

His comments were all very global rather than personal, and it added to the edge in my voice. “You think I should just up and move to some new, random city on the off chance I’ll meet someone? That’s a bit of a risk, don’t you think?”

“I think just about everything in life is a risk. Even standing still and waiting. Sometimes your best bet is to just jump, even if you don’t know where you’ll land.” Still impersonal. He wasn’t offering specifics. He wasn’t talking about us; he was only talking about me.

“Jumping without a target seems

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