Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
At night when I lay in my bed alone, I thought about the night we’d spent in Dunn’s cabin—the moonlight filtering through the window and Brooks’s warm breath against the back of my neck. I’d never felt safer or more loved than I did that night, even though we’d never used that word. My heart didn’t seem to care that everything had happened way too fast; it knew what it wanted.
So why the hell had I walked away?
I’d thought I’d moved on from everything that happened back in Homer. It was pretty clear I hadn’t, though, if I was still letting fear of rejection influence my decisions. I was not going to let them steal one more minute of my happiness. After this showing, I was going to New York to talk to Brooks. I didn’t know how things would work for us long distance, or if I could handle living in New York, but I owed it to both of us to try.
As I slid the phone back into my pocket, the gallery owner walked up and slipped her arm through mine. “Come with me. I want you to meet a few people who are very interested in your work.”
I looked over at Tabitha Turnbull, who was known for finding fresh talent. “Have I thanked you yet for this opportunity?”
Her smile was genuine and sweet. “Only a thousand times. Have I thanked you yet for sharing your talent with the world?”
I blew out a breath. “Is it always this nerve-racking?”
Her laugh was elegant but sincere, just like her personality. “Absolutely. I wish I could tell you it gets better, but Kimmer Sinclair was vomiting in the ladies’ room only fifteen minutes ago.”
The famous sculptor had been showing at galleries for at least thirty years. “Shit,” I muttered with a laugh. “Maybe this isn’t for me.”
“Nonsense. An artist spends 99 percent of their time creating and only 1 percent networking. You can do it. This is what pays for your materials and studio space, remember? Oh, there’s Bill North and…”
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I took a quick look at it, expecting a response from Ava.
Ava: Red Johnson just got rushed to ER for a suspected heart attack.
Me: Is he okay???
Ava: They don’t know. He lost consciousness.
All the blood drained from my body, enough to make me feel suddenly faint. Not Red. I couldn’t handle the idea of something happening to that sweet man, and the thought of Brooks hearing about it while he was so far away from home…
Tabitha gripped my arm. “Mal? Are you okay?”
I glanced at her. “Yeah, I just… no. Actually, no. I’m not okay.” I swallowed and looked back at my phone before glancing up at her. “I have to go.”
Her eyes widened. “But this is your grand opening. I have an entire lineup of people for you to meet.”
“I know, but… there’s an emergency at home. My… someone very important to me is in trouble. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
Home. It wasn’t completely accurate, but it still felt truer than anything I’d ever said.
Tabitha’s face softened into concern. “Oh, of course. I’m so sorry. Go be with your family. There will be other opening nights, Mal, but family comes first.”
I stared at her while the words sank in. Family.
After bolting out of there and making my way straight to the airport, I bought a ticket to Nashville and used my phone to arrange for a rental car when I arrived. Ava was no longer answering my texts, most likely because of the wedding rehearsal, but not having any updates about Red’s condition was making me frantic. Did Brooks know yet? Was he on his way home?
I wanted to call him, text him, anything at all, just to hear his voice and tell him I was there for him if he needed me. But I knew I was the last person he probably wanted to hear from, and I’d be damned if I distracted him from any updates he was probably getting from home.
The flight I’d found from LA to Nashville was leaving soon, and I raced through security, stopping only long enough to get wanded after all of my tuxedo studs and cufflinks set off the metal detector.
The TSA agent winked at me. “You didn’t have to get dressed up for me, doll.”
Smiling back at her was the first time I stopped to take a breath since getting the text. “My mama always told me to dress fancy for airplane travel. I guess I took it a little too far.”
“Well, you’re not the only one. You’re the second person I’ve seen in a tux tonight. Must be a full moon or something.”
“Nah. Just LA, right?” I teased. She laughed and waved me on.
I hurried to the gate and was relieved to find boarding hadn’t started yet. Everyone was starting to line up, but I decided to pop into one of the gift shops nearby to grab a bottle of water and some snacks for the flight.