“Tad. He was sick a lot when he was a baby, and I needed the steady paycheck.”
She heard a small, unuttered sigh in that sentence, and it made her sad for him. Fletcher sacrificed a lot for the people he loved; she’d seen it firsthand. Though maybe she was more sensitive to it. Coming from Nashville, a town where everyone had a dream, she knew how hard it was to accept reality, buckle down and work for the man instead of following your heart.
She’d lost herself in thoughts of home, was tapping her fingers on the laptop balanced on her knees in time to the music, when Fletcher startled her with “Nice ring.”
Sam glanced over at him. He had his sunglasses on, gold aviator frames, and his hand dangled over the top of the steering wheel. He looked so much like a cop she nearly laughed. But he wasn’t smiling.
She took a deep breath. “Xander gave it to me. Last night, actually.”
“It’s pretty.”
“Yes, it is.” She was quiet for a moment. “It doesn’t mean anything. Not really. It’s not like we’re engaged or anything.”
“You should be.”
Her head rocked back. He saw her surprise, and this time, he did smile.
“I have to admit I was a bit surprised when he texted, said to take you to Lynchburg or else this would drive you nuts,” he said.
“I don’t know why he thought that. I was perfectly fine letting things lie.”
Fletcher scoffed. “This is me you’re talking to, sunshine. You don’t have to lie. I don’t think you do with him, either. I’m just saying, he’s a good man. He loves you. He doesn’t want to change you, and trust me, that’s rare.”
She thought about his words. Having this conversation with Fletcher was utterly bizarre, but she sensed he wanted to have it. They’d been dancing around it for months. She knew Fletcher had feelings for her. She simply never acknowledged them. It was too much to deal with—she’d had two years of grief and numbness, and suddenly, three months ago, in the course of a single week, she’d lost another man she used to love and, while investigating his death, found Fletcher and Xander. Two wonderful men who were both good for her, in their own ways.
Two loves lost. And two found. But only one made her heart sing.
By his words, she realized something had subtly changed between her and Fletcher. Everything she’d hoped for—namely, his friendship—was matter-of-factly being offered on a plate. But there were things that couldn’t be left unspoken. Not anymore.
She said quietly, “Would you want to change me, Fletch?”
He glanced at her briefly, smiled. “Naw. I like you the way you are. Though you’d drive me mad with all your nagging. ‘Don’t you ever grocery shop, Fletch?’” He did a credible impression of her, and she punched him in the shoulder, laughing.
“Damn, woman. Don’t hit so hard, I might drive off the road and take out some cows.” He gestured toward the field to his left. “Friggin’ nature. Who’d want to live out here in the boonies like this? Not enough concrete for my taste.”
“You’re prevaricating.”
“Your big words, too. Annoys the crap out of me. You’re a walking thesaurus.” He shot her another smile. “I’m not gonna lie, Sam. You’re something special. When you came along, things started looking up. But I’d drive you nuts.”
“You already do.” She grinned at him.
“Ditto.” He went quiet for a moment. “You’d be crazy to let things go south with Xander, is all.”
He was absolutely right. “I know. I know he’s a good man, and I love him. I never thought it would happen again for me.”
“So marry him already.”
“Good grief, Fletch, I’ve only known him for three months.”
“You’re a grown-up. You know what you need. He seems to fit the bill. You’ve been happy lately. Happier than I’ve ever seen you.”
“You don’t know me that well, Fletch. But yes, he makes me happy.”
“So why not marry the dude?”
She blurted out the words. “To be honest, I’m afraid he wants kids. And that’s not something I’m ever willing to do.”
“Ah. That’s what this is all about.” He paused a moment. “Just the thought of it makes you panic, huh?”
“What?” she asked, then realized she was opening and closing the lid of her laptop unconsciously. She slammed it closed. “Yeah. You could say that.”
“Have you told him? That you don’t want to have kids?”
“No.”
“Do it, Sam. Have a conversation, like we’re doing. Tell the man, and get on with your life. He’ll accept you no matter what. I suspect he already knows the cost of loving you, and is more than willing to pay it.”
The cost. My God, is that how people see me? There’s a cost to being with me?
“Hey. Did I say something wrong?”