would take the extra ten or fifteen minutes the walk would give her with him.
He held her hand as they walked through the casino that would lead to the garage where she was parked. They walked slowly, not speaking, and she steeled herselffor saying goodbye to him without crying.
And she did okay until they reached her SUV and he pulled her into his arms. She thought for a second he was going to kiss her, but he wrapped her in his embrace and hugged her hard. With her arms around his waist, she held on tight.
“I can’t believe it’s only been three nights and I’m already going to miss you,” she said.
“I’ve been missingyou for six years,” he said quietly. “And I know it was my own damn fault, but it’s the truth.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” She took a deep breath and pulled away. “You’re going to have to walk away or we’ll say goodbye all night.”
“I don’t want to, but you’re right.” He kissed her, his mouth lingering on hers. “I’ll talk to you soon. There’s no cell signal or internet at the camp, but I’llcall you as soon as I get back to Boston.”
“I’ll be waiting.” She gave him a smile, but it was a little shaky.
She got in and started her engine, knowing he would stay until she was underway. He’d always been that way. Knowing that prolonging her departure any more would just drag out the goodbye and increase the chances she’d start bawling, she put the SUV in Reverse and backed out.
Once she’d put it in Drive, Brendan waved, and then he turned and walked away. Her vision shimmered and she swiped at her eyes. Finding her way out of the casino parking would be hard enough without crying.
And she’d talk to him soon. He’d call her in a few days, and she had a wedding to get through. And then the holidays. Her life would be so full, she’d probably barely have time tomiss him.
But as she neared the end of the aisle and glanced in her rearview mirror to see Brendan watching her leave with his hands shoved in his pockets, she knew that was a lie. She was going to miss him even more now than she had for the last six years.
* * *
Shortly before noon the next day, Brendan pulled into his cousin’s driveway and killed the engine. It was about an hourfrom the cabin—which had finally warmed up thanks to the roaring fire he’d built in the woodstove—to Scott’s house, but the drive was worth it for a day out on the snowmobile trails. While they didn’t manage it every year, they always tried to sneak away for a day sometime during the week before Christmas, when nobody really cared about having electrical work done on their property.
Scott’swife, Chloe, opened the door, and Brendan smiled at the silver glitter sparkling in her hair and on her face. “You doing a practice run for a New Year’s Eve party?”
She rolled her eyes as a German shepherd pushed past her legs to get to him. “I wish. We’re having craft time. It’s the first and last time we’ve done a glitter craft.”
Brendan crouched to say hi to the dog and give him agood neck scratch. “Hey, Kojak.”
“Scott’s in the kitchen with the boys. It was my turn to hide in the bathroom and mutter bad words under my breath.”
Brendan laughed. “It can’t be that bad.”
“You know what makes glitter stick to foam balls? Glue. Lots and lots of glue.”
He followed her into the kitchen, where two-and four-year-old boys were seated at the table while Scott hoveredover them, grimacing. “Not so much glue, Johnny.”
“Glue makes the glitter stick, Daddy,” the four-year-old argued.
“It’s going to take that glue four days to dry, though.”
“Bwendan!” The two-year-old, Hunter, had spotted him and he waved, flinging glitter off his hands like it was fairy dust.
“Oh, thank God,” Scott muttered.
“Hey,” Chloe said. “Whose idea was it for theboys to make balls like the Times Square one for New Year’s?”
“Your mother’s,” he shot back. “She saw it on
He held her hand as they walked through the casino that would lead to the garage where she was parked. They walked slowly, not speaking, and she steeled herselffor saying goodbye to him without crying.
And she did okay until they reached her SUV and he pulled her into his arms. She thought for a second he was going to kiss her, but he wrapped her in his embrace and hugged her hard. With her arms around his waist, she held on tight.
“I can’t believe it’s only been three nights and I’m already going to miss you,” she said.
“I’ve been missingyou for six years,” he said quietly. “And I know it was my own damn fault, but it’s the truth.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” She took a deep breath and pulled away. “You’re going to have to walk away or we’ll say goodbye all night.”
“I don’t want to, but you’re right.” He kissed her, his mouth lingering on hers. “I’ll talk to you soon. There’s no cell signal or internet at the camp, but I’llcall you as soon as I get back to Boston.”
“I’ll be waiting.” She gave him a smile, but it was a little shaky.
She got in and started her engine, knowing he would stay until she was underway. He’d always been that way. Knowing that prolonging her departure any more would just drag out the goodbye and increase the chances she’d start bawling, she put the SUV in Reverse and backed out.
Once she’d put it in Drive, Brendan waved, and then he turned and walked away. Her vision shimmered and she swiped at her eyes. Finding her way out of the casino parking would be hard enough without crying.
And she’d talk to him soon. He’d call her in a few days, and she had a wedding to get through. And then the holidays. Her life would be so full, she’d probably barely have time tomiss him.
But as she neared the end of the aisle and glanced in her rearview mirror to see Brendan watching her leave with his hands shoved in his pockets, she knew that was a lie. She was going to miss him even more now than she had for the last six years.
* * *
Shortly before noon the next day, Brendan pulled into his cousin’s driveway and killed the engine. It was about an hourfrom the cabin—which had finally warmed up thanks to the roaring fire he’d built in the woodstove—to Scott’s house, but the drive was worth it for a day out on the snowmobile trails. While they didn’t manage it every year, they always tried to sneak away for a day sometime during the week before Christmas, when nobody really cared about having electrical work done on their property.
Scott’swife, Chloe, opened the door, and Brendan smiled at the silver glitter sparkling in her hair and on her face. “You doing a practice run for a New Year’s Eve party?”
She rolled her eyes as a German shepherd pushed past her legs to get to him. “I wish. We’re having craft time. It’s the first and last time we’ve done a glitter craft.”
Brendan crouched to say hi to the dog and give him agood neck scratch. “Hey, Kojak.”
“Scott’s in the kitchen with the boys. It was my turn to hide in the bathroom and mutter bad words under my breath.”
Brendan laughed. “It can’t be that bad.”
“You know what makes glitter stick to foam balls? Glue. Lots and lots of glue.”
He followed her into the kitchen, where two-and four-year-old boys were seated at the table while Scott hoveredover them, grimacing. “Not so much glue, Johnny.”
“Glue makes the glitter stick, Daddy,” the four-year-old argued.
“It’s going to take that glue four days to dry, though.”
“Bwendan!” The two-year-old, Hunter, had spotted him and he waved, flinging glitter off his hands like it was fairy dust.
“Oh, thank God,” Scott muttered.
“Hey,” Chloe said. “Whose idea was it for theboys to make balls like the Times Square one for New Year’s?”
“Your mother’s,” he shot back. “She saw it on
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