“Then go conquer the world. I’ll be waiting for you when you get done.”
He lifts his head and stares down at me, his eyes intent, and so much emotion shining in them. The force of it hits me in my chest.
“I thought I had everything,” he says in a low voice. “And then I met you. Now I do.”
I swallow, determined not to let the tears burning the back of my eyes free. “You can’t say things like that. I’m seriously not equipped to handle it.”
“I didn’t know I was equipped to say things like that until you either. Guess we’re both going to have to find our footing here.”
Nodding, I squeeze his arm. “Get your stuff packed, and I’ll drive you to the airport. I guess I should ask if you mind if I keep the rental car and take it back to Nashville.”
He covers my hand with his. “Of course I don’t mind. As long as you don’t mind that you’re getting a new car whether you want one or not. And I’m picking it out, since apparently your last two were Pontiacs, and Detroit doesn’t even make those anymore.”
“Whatever. Just know that I’m still gonna drive like a girl from Gold Haven, so you better get good insurance.”
Under his breath, he murmurs, “On second thought, I’m buying you a tank.”
I just laugh. I don’t honestly care what he buys me. As long as it has four wheels and gets me from A to B. If it’s too outrageously expensive, I’ll bitch . . . and maybe concede gracefully.
Now that we’ve stepped into this new version of us, how he chooses to spend his money doesn’t rub me the wrong way at every turn. Creighton doesn’t need to buy me—he already has me. Now I think he’s trying to cherish me and take care of me, which is something altogether different, and I’m not going to throw it back in his face.
“When are you heading back?” he asks.
Shrugging, I flip through my mental schedule, considering I don’t have my phone at hand. “Probably not for another day or two. I’ve got some time.”
I glance around the quiet room. “This has actually been exactly what I needed. I’m going to stay, fine-tune the songs as much as I can before I head back. I might even try to pack some stuff in my room and make a trip to Goodwill. I need to make a decision about the house.”
“What decision do you want to make?”
“I should sell it. I have no earthly reason to keep it.”
“But?”
“But I’m just not quite ready yet.”
“Holly.” Crey lifts his hand to my face. “You don’t ever have to sell if you don’t want to.”
“It seems silly to keep paying the property taxes and utilities when no one lives here.”
“Baby,” he says, his eyes soft. “We can afford it.”
“Okay, I won’t sell it for now. It’s nice to have somewhere to come home to. Besides, I’m finding that I like keeping a tie to my roots.”
“Good. I’m glad.” His phone buzzes in his hand, and Cannon’s name flashes across the screen. “I need to take this.”
“Go conquer the world from New York, Crey. We’re going to be just fine.”
I shove him toward the stairs, and he goes. Beyond his clipped greeting, I hear nothing of their conversation. Instinct tells me that all is not well back in New York at Karas International.
The urge to ask is strong, but I fight it back . . . now, and the whole drive to the airport. I’m still fighting it when Creighton cups my face and kisses the hell out of me, and when he climbs on the jet and gives me one final wave.
Alone in the Cadillac, I wonder if I shouldn’t have fought the urge to ask.
The next day, I’ve just scarfed down a tuna sandwich for lunch when someone knocks at the door.
Really? Again?
I’ve already received two deliveries from Crey today. First, Delores Maynard’s grandson, Leander, dropped by with the other journals that Crey asked her to make for me. After I fished out a twenty to tip him, I almost swooned at the beautiful colors.
After that came Ben from Brews and Balls.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked him.
He hefted a black-and-pink bowling bag up with the hand not wrapped around his cane. “Special delivery from your man.”
“What the hell?” I took the bag from him and unzipped it. A hot-pink glitter-swirled bowling ball with my name engraved on it sat inside, along with black-and-pink bowling shoes.
What in the world?
“Okay, well. Now that that’s done, I gotta run, sugar. I’ll see you at the lanes tonight, if you’re coming in.”
I mumbled something to him as he picked his way down the steps and shuffled to his car. I had no idea what I said, because I was too stunned. I pulled out the note stuck to the ball and set the bag on the floor.
Read me.
I tear it open and read it.
In case you get bored. Also, I think the citizens of Gold Haven would love to have a reason to get you back into the bowling alley to give another impromptu concert. I might have only caught the tail end of the last one, and even tequila spiked, it was amazing.
I miss you.
Yours,
Crey