To Get Me to You (Wishful 1)

Miranda rolled the dice. “I did warn you, she’s brutal at Monopoly.”

“Oh, who are you kidding? I’m ruthless at all games. I make no denials or apologies.”

“And we love you anyway.” Miranda moved her thimble. “Speaking of business, how much longer can you stay away from yours?”

Norah managed not to look at Cam—barely. He was still the only one she’d told about being fired. And despite the fact that they’d spent every night on the phone, talking till the wee hours about everything under the sun, they’d carefully steered clear of discussing when she was leaving. If we ignore it, the white elephant doesn’t actually exist.

Except now Miranda had put it right out there. Because if Norah was really here on a true vacation from her former job, she’d absolutely have to be getting back. Damn it.

“I feel like I just got here.”

“Well, it is the first vacation longer than a holiday weekend you’ve taken since I moved back home.”

“Seems a shame to head on back to the city when you only just now slowed down,” Cam remarked.

Norah glanced at him but saw no censure. He was leaving this news for her, as she’d asked.

“Do you have the extra leave time to take?” Aunt Liz asked.

“I’ve got more leave time than I know what to do with.” It wasn’t a complete lie. She’d had almost two months built up when she got axed. Four, if she counted major medical.

Aunt Liz clapped her hands together. “Then stay a while longer. We haven’t gotten to see you nearly enough this visit.”

The actual decision was easy. Chicago felt worlds away, and she was in no shape to be making major life decisions at the moment. As Cam had said, she’d only just slowed down. Plus, she wanted—needed—time to explore this unexpected spark with him.

“There are any number of hungry young neophytes dying to step into my shoes. I expect they’ll find a way to do without me.” Because her face felt suddenly brittle, Norah flashed her best sales smile and changed the subject. “If I asked super sweetly, could I talk anybody else into a fire and hot chocolate?”

“Yes!” Mitch shot a fist into the air. “A hot chocolate break will give me a chance to plot my comeback.”

Miranda patted him on the arm. “You hang on to that delusion, big brother. I’ll help with the beverages.”

“I could use a chance to stretch my legs.” Norah unfolded from her chair. “I’ll get the firewood.”

Cam pushed back from the table. “I’ll help you. Uncle Pete, make sure Mitch doesn’t mess with the bank.”

Norah slipped out the door before Mitch finished protesting. The woodpile was at the far side of the yard, flanking the garden shed, well away from the cedar shingles of the house. She’d already made it halfway across the lawn by the time Cam caught up.

“Hold it. Put this on.”

Turning, she saw he’d stopped to grab her coat. “It’s not that cold to me. Thicker blood, remember?”

“Humor me.” He held it so she could slip her arms inside.

Relenting, she did as he asked, then immediately crossed her arms because she did feel cold. But she knew it had nothing to do with the temperature.

“What’s wrong?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “How did you know?”

“I know your real smile. That wasn’t it.” Cam squeezed her shoulders. “You okay?”

“I keep thinking I am, and then something brings it all back up again.

“It’s gonna keep happening until you tell them.”

Norah hunched her shoulders. “I know. Doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I don’t think this kind of thing is ever easy. It’s a Band-aid yank sort of situation.”