“But I wanted to speak to you before I left.”
“You did?”
“Yes,” he replied softly, letting me go, charging back over to the small rolling suitcase, zipping it up and dropping it on the ground before he moved to the desk, grabbed his suit jacket from the chair, and rushed to put it on.
Turning, he was back in front of me, and cupped my cheek in his hand, stroking over my beard. “You know,” he began hesitantly, “Barrett Crossing isn’t on the other side of the world from Pacifica, where I live, so I could come see you, or you could visit me, and it wouldn’t be a huge endeavor. Nothing too terribly difficult.”
“No, it wouldn’t be,” I agreed.
He took a breath, smiling, visibly brightening. “I could call you and we could work something out.”
The hope in his voice carved a place for him, right then and there, in my heart. He wanted to see me, there was no mistaking his desire for anything else, and the hopefulness made his interest so much better. “I would like that.”
“Good.” He sighed and then took a breath. “So I’ll call you when I get home, or––”
“Call me before,” I blurted, surprising myself. “Call me on the drive if you want. For sure call me and tell me how your dad is. Call me just to call me.” He squinted at me, and I took a step back so his hand slipped away. “Unless you––”
“No,” he insisted, moving in close, hand sliding around the back of my neck. “I would love to call you, and if I miss you, call me back, all right?”
“I will,” I murmured as he leaned in.
I opened for him and kissed him with all the longing I’d been carrying around the entire night. I had so been looking forward to seeing him, talking to him, getting to know him, and going back to bed with him. I wanted him to stay, but I understood why he had to leave.
Easing back, his eyes stayed closed for a second, as though he was savoring the kiss, and I loved that.
“Okay, so I’ll talk to you soon,” he whispered and then stepped free.
I gestured at his bathroom. “I’m gonna use that, and then I’ll get outta here.”
He nodded and tipped his head at me. “Is that mine?”
Only then did I realize I was still holding the pie container. “It is.” I grinned at him. “It’s our house peach. Maybe you could take it with you?”
“I would love to take it with me,” he husked, swallowing hard.
Passing it to him, I watched him bite his bottom lip before he turned for the door, stopping once he was there. “I was so happy to get your number earlier at the restaurant,” he confessed, giving me a shy smile.
“Same,” I agreed. “I was kinda frantic before I saw you, but…I’m okay now. And the plans to call and visit, that’s even better.”
“Yes, it is,” he barely got out before he took a step toward me, corrected, gave me a nod, and was gone. I had the ridiculous notion that I should follow him downstairs, load the car and wave to him from the curb as he drove away. But it was so late, or early, depending on how you looked at it, and another goodbye scene wasn’t a good idea. We didn’t know each other yet. There was nothing more to say.
On my way out, after using the bathroom, I saw something on the floor beside the bed and walked over to see what it was. I bent and found a watch. Looking at the Grand Seiko GMT with a cream dial, and what looked like was supposed to be a crocodile band but clearly was not, I was instantly comforted. I was now in possession of something of his. We would have to speak again, if for no other reason than so he could get it back. But honestly, he wasn’t so far away that he couldn’t come back. By the same token, he was rushing home to be with his father, so having him turn back around didn’t seem smart either. The choice would be his, though.
“This is far sooner than I thought it would be,” he answered, instead of the usual greeting.
“You left your watch,” I informed him.
“Did I?”
“Yeah. I can meet you somewhere if you want to stop and wait for me.”
“I would love that, but—” He hesitated. “—I’m beginning to get––”
“Nervous, right? Like, frantic to get to him just in case.”
“Yes.” He breathed out. “How did you know?”
“It’s the adrenaline. Now that it’s dipping, the worry is setting in.” As though I didn’t have an undergraduate degree in social work, with all the psychology and sociology classes that entailed. “Eat the pie, all right? Get some water. And don’t drive like a crazy person. I’d like you to be in one piece when I see you next.”