186. Courtney
Chapter 186
Courtney
I look down at my ringing phone.
It rings a second time.
A third.
And on the fourth, I blow out a breath before answering it. “Hi, Mom.”
“Merry Christmas, Courtney.” Her voice is cheery. Happy and bright and not a trace of discomfort, despite the fact that we haven’t spoken on the phone in months. “How’s the holiday weather in Colorado?”
So she remembers the text I sent her months ago about moving. I wasn’t sure since the only response she gave was just a thumbs-up.
“It’s actually really nice,” I tell her truthfully as Ben runs up onto the back deck and drops his stick at my feet.
I pick it up, lean back, then toss it as far as I can.
It’s above freezing today, but there’s still a fair amount of snow on the ground.
Sterling and the guys shoveled all the pathways between buildings. And then Sterling shoveled paths through the backyard for Ben to run through. So even though I’m still getting used to this winter weather, it hasn’t been hard to get around .
And it doesn’t bother Ben in the least. Which he proves by leaping off the edge of the low deck, straight into a pile of snow.
“Courtney?”
I catch myself grinning at the goofy dog. “Sorry, I was distracted by, um, my boss’s dog.”
If I told her it was my dog, she’d ask too many questions.
So, I’ll pretend Ben belongs to Sterling.
Even though he feels like he belongs to both of us.
I’ll also pretend I’m still living in the Laundry Cabin.
Telling Mom I moved in with my boss would most definitely spark a lecture.
And fair points or not, I don’t want to hear it.
I don’t want to hear how it’s a bad idea to move in with a man, who is your boss, who lives on your jobsite, without having a real discussion about it.
I don’t want to hear how it’s a bad idea to spend two months living comfortably together, sleeping together, cooking dinner together, without discussing what happens in one week, when January starts.
And I don’t want to explain that I’m wildly in love with him.
That I fall more in love with him every time he walks through the front door.
Every time he inhales me like he needs the scent of me filling his lungs.
Every time he groans against my neck.
Every time I fall asleep with his hand clasping mine.
I can’t even explain how a part of him feels like a part of me.
How I breathe easier with him in the same room.
How I sleep deeper with him at my side.
How I smile more with him in my life.
I press my free hand to my chest.
Sterling has been off on a retreat for the last two nights, and I miss him so fucking much.
He told me he would cancel. That he planned this trip before we met. That he’d rather stay home.
But I wouldn’t let him.
Didn’t want to ruin his plans with his friends .
And I’m regretting it so much.
Fuck his friends. I want my Sterling.
Ben drops the stick at my feet again, and I toss it.
My mom is still talking. Telling me about her drive to Florida, her plans for the holidays, her next destination. Unaware of my inattention.
I keep making the right sounds. And she keeps going until I hear someone knocking on her door. The rattling sound ingrained in my memory makes me wonder how long that damn RV will keep running.
“That’s the neighbor.” She calls anyone in the same campground as her a neighbor. “We’re doing a potluck. Gotta go.”
“Have fun.”
“Always.” I can hear her smile. “Love you.”
Then the line cuts.
“Love you too.” I sigh.
Ben bounds up the steps, but instead of dropping the stick, he plops his body onto the deck.
I crouch so I can run my hand down his back. “You’re such a good boy.” He lifts his head, his tongue lolling out. “Should we have some snacks before our holiday dinner?” Ben licks his chops. “Come on.”
Half the guys are gone, but half of them are still here, and Cook is making us dinner.
I have a variety of full-sized pies cooling in the kitchen as my contribution.
Sometimes the Lodge is booked with outings over the holiday, but this year it isn’t. So we have a few days before the next group arrives on New Year’s Eve.
Opening the door, I step back as Ben trots into the house.
He’s so happy here.
I vow not to let the call with my mom, or my spiraling thoughts, depress me.
I have a dog. A real, actual dog.
And I have a boyfriend whom I love. Who I’m almost certain loves me too.
I will not be depressed today.
As I walk into the kitchen, I spot Sterling’s laptop on the counter.
I know we need to have our talk soon. About me working here .
I like working here. But…
I open the laptop, then open the web browser.
If this is going to work long term for us, possibly forever, I need to start looking for a different job.
My hands hover over the keyboard.
I’ve always searched for new jobs out of desperation. If I’m not on a deadline to find something new, I could look for something I want to do, not just the first thing available.
And if we stay together… If I officially move in here with Sterling, then I don’t need to look for a job that has room and board included.
A tendril of excitement weaves through my ribs.
The options are endless.
I stare at the blank search bar.
And I keep staring.
And the longer I stare, the more that excitement turns into anxiety.
My throat tightens.
I have no idea what I want to do.
Literally not a fucking clue as to what I should type.
I dig my teeth into my lip.
I… I don’t know what my passion is.
I’ve never had one.
My gaze lowers to the keyboard.
The letters stare back up at me.
I try to think about things I like.
Sterling. Ben. Spike. Baking pies.
Pies are the only thing on that list that I could do anything with. But I’m not trained. I don’t have any experience. And I like making them, occasionally, for fun. But they aren’t my passion.
I lower my hands to my side, leaving the search bar blank.