was like a father to me in the truest sense of the word.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “How did he die?”
“Fuckin’ cancer,” he said. “He was a smoker his whole life. I suppose it was to be expected, but it came for him fast. Three months after the first diagnosis, and he was gone.”
“Fucking cancer is right,” I agreed. Then I told him about how losing my mom had caused me to take a job with the American Cancer Coalition.
“Isn’t that something?” he asked. “Look at you, making a difference in the world. I always knew you would.”
“You knew no such thing, you big charmer,” I said.
Michael came by and took our empty plates and brought us fresh pints. We toasted one another again, and I felt myself, my old self, poke her head out of the closet I’d kept her in for the past seven years. I was feeling attraction, affection, and, frankly, a little lust. Warmed by the good food and better company, I put my hand on Colin’s arm. I pressed closer, wanting to feel connected to someone in an intimate way, a way I hadn’t felt in a very long time. It occurred to me that I’d been lonely over the past few years, but I’d just rolled it up with my grief and poured it into my work. But now I wanted more.
“It’s your turn. Tell me what’s happened to you over the past seven years,” I said.
“Well, I hardly know where to start,” he said. He was staring into my eyes, and I smiled. I could tell he was feeling the same rekindling of our old relationship that I was. Would it be too pushy to invite him back to the cottage? Probably. Was I ready for that sort of thing? Probably not. I still wanted to.
“Aye, Colin, do tell the fine young lass what you’ve been up to.” A woman came to stand at the end of our booth. She held a baby in her arms and had two young children, who looked to be about three and five years old, holding on to the hem of her coat. “I’m sure we’d all enjoy the tellin’, and you might want to start by introducin’ her to this tiny fella and his cohorts in crime.”
“Uh.” Colin’s eyes went wide. He glanced from the woman to me and back.
I heard my phone buzz inside my purse. Not now! I pulled my phone out of my bag and glanced at the display. Knightley! Two hours had passed since I’d spoken with him, and here he was, calling just like he’d said he would. Of all the times to be responsible!
I went to mute it. Then I hesitated. He’d said he’d call the local authorities if I didn’t answer. Would he? Oh god, he might! Which was about the only thing that could make this insanely uncomfortable moment even more awkward.
“Hi,” I answered, overly bright and cheery. “Now is really not a good time. Thanks for the call. Bye.”
Colin looked at me askance as I ended the call. I wondered if I’d offended him by answering. I mouthed the word sorry and then glanced back at the woman. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. I could tell from the look on her face, whoever she was, she was not happy.
My phone started to ring again. I looked at the display—Knightley! Argh! I suspected he would just keep calling and calling. I answered, “What?”
“Maverick, this is Goose,” he said. “What’s your twenty?”
“My what?” I asked. “Who’s Maverick? Wait, are you using a Top Gun reference?”
“Well, Goose is the greatest wingman ever,” he said. “I figured it was appropriate.”
“No, it’s not. I don’t need a wingman,” I hissed. “What do you not understand about this is not a good time?”
“Is everything all right?” he asked. His voice was abruptly serious.
I glanced back at Colin and the woman. No, everything was not all right. The woman was smiling, sort of—it was a brittle curve of her lips—while Colin was looking decidedly ill at ease. It hit me then. I’d never even thought to ask if he was married. I glanced at his hand. There was no ring on his finger, but the vibe here was definitely not good between him and the woman.
“Colin,” I asked, forgetting about Jason on the phone. “Are you married—to her?”
chapter nine
IN A MANNER of speaking,” he said. He had to raise his voice as a trio of musicians began to warm up in