Chapter Six #3
She smiled, but her voice was sad. “I barely lasted a mere weekend with my folks. Sometimes I feel guilty that my mother can drive me bonkers.”
“If it makes you feel better, your brother used to say the same thing about your mom when he was in college. How he loved her, but she also drove him nuts.”
“Thank goodness we had each other growing up. Russ was always the calm one while I was less patient. Are you and your sister close?”
“We weren’t always, since she’s nearly seven years younger, but we are now. She hopes to do public service. Maybe as a social worker or something. I worry about her, but she has a good head on her shoulders.”
“The world needs more people like her.”
“I suppose it does.” I wondered if Layla was reflecting on her own job choices.
Or, possibly, other types of choices. Suddenly, I felt compelled to ask, “You leave a boyfriend or anyone behind in California?”
She took a large drink of her wine. “He was no longer my boyfriend by the time I left.”
I had to tamp down a sudden jolt of jealousy. “Was it serious?”
She shrugged. “We were together almost a year. I believed there was more there than he did. But the fact I don’t miss him tells me there actually wasn’t.”
She was leaving something out. A change in her tone told me she’d been hurt. But I was discovering Layla wasn’t an open book.
“How about you? Anyone you left behind in Boston?”
“No. There was nobody serious there.” I hadn’t had a steady girlfriend since Carly. Was too busy busting my ass. Too driven with the singular goal in mind to prove to both my cousin and myself that I didn’t need him in order to be successful.
“College girlfriend did a number on you with the cheating?”
I was about to reply quickly with a denial, but the truth was the episode had shaped a lot more of my attitude toward relationships than I liked to admit. “I suppose it made me more skittish about serious dating, but I also haven’t made the time from my job for anything like that.”
“Trust is hard to navigate once it’s been broken.” She raised her glass for a toast. “Here’s to neither of us seeing our exes again. Unless yours stalks you to another bar.”
My glass clinked against hers as my guilt welled up. It was ridiculous to feel I should explain: we were short-term with an expiration date. But I confessed anyhow. “Actually, I found out the house I’m about to start renovating belongs to my ex’s mother and stepfather.”
Both of Layla’s brows shot up. “I take it that’s not coincidence?”
“Nope. It’ll certainly make things tense over the next few months, but this job could really launch my business here. I did make it clear to her I’m offering nothing but my building skills.”
Layla leveled me with a look. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“Not the jealous type?” I had no need for such an emotion from her, but I was surprised she wasn’t at least a little irritated.
She shrugged. “I don’t know if you’re even worth being jealous over.”
My grin came easily. “Fair enough.”
Her gaze traveled to my hands putting the finishing touches on the salad. “For all I know, you make chicken parm for all the girls.”
“You’re the first since I’ve moved back here.
” While in Boston, I’d brought dates over on a Saturday night to cook for them.
But Layla was the only woman for whom I’d made an exception regarding my work schedule.
With only tonight and three other nights remaining, I was determined to figure out a way to balance both spending time with her and getting my work done.
After sliding the pan into the oven and washing my hands, I stepped over to her. I pulled her up from her stool and kissed her softly. “Come over tomorrow, and I’ll make you lasagna.”
She shook her head. “Kellan, I saw the stress on your face earlier from trying to get home to make dinner for me on a work night. It’s not—”
I shushed her with a kiss before speaking again. “I can pick something up instead of cooking?”
She hesitated, causing me to clarify.
“I understand this ends on Friday. But I’d like to see you as much as possible between now and then.”
Finally, she relaxed. “Okay. How about I pick something up and meet you at seven? That will give you time to get home. Know that I wouldn’t be opposed to you waiting until I get here before taking your shower.”
“Mm, neither would I.” So, we had a date for Tuesday.
Wednesday night would be impossible as I had to do a walk-through on the Bellevue job that evening.
And then Thursday would be my last chance to spend time with her.
I already knew one short evening wouldn’t do it.
“What about Thursday? Do you have plans during the day?”
“I have appointments in the morning, but after that I planned to do the touristy thing around Seattle.”
“You want some company?”
“You’re planning to take the day off?”
I shouldn’t. But if I put in extra hours on Friday and through the weekend, I’d be finished with my other work in time to start on the Williamses’ house come Monday. “Yes.” For her, I’d make it work.