Chapter 31
Nolan
I haven’t seen Andi in days, since Mom’s “birthday” dinner. Not that I haven’t tried.
I’ve texted, asking her to go to lunch, asking if she’s up for a movie. But she says she’s swamped with work and writing in her small bits of spare time. Understandable, yet frustrating.
Sure, it crossed my mind that maybe the whole thing with Mom scared her off, though I didn’t get that impression.
I think the real issue is that she’s been avoiding me since we hooked up at the River House.
Part of me thought kissing her would feel like relief.
That I’d be satisfied after that and move the fuck on with my life.
But it’s only made things worse. The time away just makes me miss her more.
Luckily, life is busy enough to keep me at least semi-distracted from staring at my phone, waiting for her to text me. Even without Andi, I’ve been going back to the rescue farm a couple days a week to spend time with Cody.
Each time I show up, he comes bounding toward the fence, his little nub of a tail going wild, rejoicing at my mere presence. It feels amazing, knowing he’s as elated to see me as I am to see him, even if I don’t know what I did to deserve the affection. When I tell Deidra that, she laughs.
“That’s the thing about dogs. Their love is unconditional. It doesn’t matter how much money you have, what you look like, what you’ve done, a dog will love you all the same,” she says with a smile. “And that little guy loves you.”
“I love him, too,” I say, without even thinking. Honestly, leaving him here every time kills me. Knowing he doesn’t have a warm person to sleep against every night. No one to cuddle his shivery body and give him his medicated baths.
“You sure you wouldn’t consider taking him?” she asks again.
I sigh. The past few weeks, I’ve researched all the intricacies of bringing a dog to different countries.
Turns out, you can’t—easily, at least. Every country has a shit ton of regulations and standards when it comes to transporting animals, which really fucking sucks.
Not that it really matters. Wherever I go, I wouldn’t have the time or the capacity to properly care for a dog like Cody anyway.
He’s better off with Deidra, or another family with an actual permanent home.
Cody isn’t the only thing I’ll miss. Things are still tough, but I think Mom has finally gotten used to me being around.
We’ve established more of a routine, and I’ve learned how to counter some of her anger and frustration.
Mom has insisted on making a ritual out of breakfast at the sun-drenched kitchen table.
Those slow, golden mornings are when she tends to be at her sharpest. Whenever I’m home in the evening, we take a walk around the neighborhood as the sun sets.
Most of the time, we have the same conversation about old music.
It’s a safe topic. She gets frustrated if we talk about anything recent, like TV shows she watched that morning, because she doesn’t remember most of it.
She asks me a lot of the same questions over and over about my time in the military.
Of course, there’s lots I can’t tell her, but she seems fascinated by what I can reveal.
We also talk a lot about Emma and the kids.
It’s become such an embedded routine, I’m probably going to miss it the most come fall.
And then there’s work, which takes up most of my time.
One of the pros of the job is that Eric loves physical training.
He loves staying active, like I do. So whenever he works out, I work out with him.
On my first day, I stayed in my suit and he looked at me like I had five eyes.
“You’re not working out with me?” he asked.
“Uh, am I supposed to?”
“I’d rather not have a man in black staring at me while I work out. Besides, if I’m going for a run, it would be weird for you to run after me in that suit.”
I wanted to tell him I’ve run with a rucksack and gear that weighs nearly his body weight, but I refrained and borrowed his gym clothes. Since then, he’s treated me more like an old friend than an employee, which I appreciate, especially after missing the camaraderie in the military.
He likes to do a bunch of types of workouts: lifting in his home gym, runs on the property, swimming, and even some mixed martial arts.
Shockingly, Eric doesn’t have much of an ego and is always asking me for fitness advice, wanting to try new things like jujitsu. I keep joking with him that he needs to start paying me double, for being both his CPO and his personal trainer.
Today we’re doing some boxing. It’s his first workout in a couple days since his schedule has been packed with back-to-back meetings.
“All right, don’t go easy on me,” he says.
“Right. Can’t mess your television face up for your Montreal trip. You’d scare the nation with a shiner.” Tomorrow, we’re heading to Montreal for two days. Eric has a couple meetings and an announcement about new steel factories.
“Oh, come on. I’m tougher than I look. I survived my last diplomatic meeting without punching anyone, didn’t I?” A smirk plays at the corner of his lips.
“Just barely.”
Eric shrugs, adjusting his boxing gloves with a nonchalant grin. “Hey, a black eye might actually boost my approval ratings. People love a leader who can take a punch, right?”
I step into the ring. “Yeah, well, let’s see if you still feel that way after I land one on you.”
Eric raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I don’t plan on making it easy for you.”
We spar for about half an hour before taking a break.
“So you and Andi, eh?” he smirks.
“I was waiting for you to bring this one up.” Damn, I hate lying to him. “Actually, I meant to thank you and Gretchen for being so cool about it. I know it’s not ideal to date someone you work with, but we’re both committed to keeping things professional.”
“Glad to hear it. And treat her well. She’s the best PA Gretchen has ever had,” he says.
“She loves working for her,” I say. Andi talks about all the latest bills, things Eric is working on. She knows everything and is so smart, which is really sexy. I almost feel too dumb to be in her presence.
“Your face just went bright red when I said her name. You must really like her.” Somehow, even that statement doesn’t do how I feel justice.
“I do.” I work down a hard swallow, finally admitting the words out loud. The truth I’ve been avoiding for weeks. I have feelings for her. Feelings that scare the shit out of me. Feelings I’m not sure I can ignore any longer, or outrun, no matter where I go in the world.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how are you planning to make it work when you leave? I know you don’t plan on extending your contract for much longer.”
“Long-distance, I guess,” I say, avoiding his stare. Just saying that phrase out loud evokes dread, even though Andi and I aren’t actually together and won’t be doing long-distance—or anything, for that matter.
He raises an eyebrow, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern. “What’s stopping you from staying?”
“A lot of things,” I admit, searching for the right way to put it without having to lie. “But mostly, what if I give up my whole life plan, put roots down here, and it doesn’t work out?”
“That’s a possibility, sure. But if that happens, wouldn’t you be in the same position you’re in right now? You could always get a new contract and leave.”
“True.” He’s not wrong. I’d be begging Jones for a new posting anywhere but here.
At the same time, I don’t know if Andi would even want me to stay.
In the entire time I’ve known her, she’s never expressed wanting anything more than a temporary friendship, which is a far cry from a real, serious relationship. “I wish I knew how she felt.”
“You haven’t talked about it?”
“Not in so many words,” I say. That’s putting it mildly.
Eric flashes a knowing smile. “Gretchen isn’t the best with expressing how she feels, either.
I’ve learned a couple things. When she tells me she doesn’t want to talk, nine times out of ten, she wants to talk.
It’s not always what she says, but what she does.
How long or how tight she holds my hand.
The way she used to lean in and brush her arm against mine during meetings or events.
” He pauses, lost in thought. “Anyway, sorry for the ramble. I’m sure you don’t want to take relationship advice from me, of all people,” he says knowingly.
Andi has never been one for grand displays of affection.
She’s generally subtle, a little shy. But I think about the way she kissed me with reckless abandon in the lake.
The way she folded herself into me and clung for dear life in the forest behind the yellow house.
The way she listens when I talk and effortlessly understands me like no one else does.
There’s no fucking way we’re just friends.
“No, actually, I think that was exactly what I needed to hear.”