Page 83 of Stealing Home

Their eyes met across the room, and Ethan straightened but stayed seated.

Gavin looked away first and joined the short line at the counter. He wanted coffee, but he also needed the extra minute. Time to adjust to Ethan being more than just a name on his phone again. When he reached the register, he ordered a large black coffee, and the barista filled a paper cup from a carafe behind her and pressed a lid onto it. Gavin thanked her, took a deep breath, and headed to the corner.

Evan watched him approach. One finger tapped against the side of his cup until Gavin reached the table, then it went still.

“You came,” Ethan said.

“I said I would.” Gavin set his coffee down and pulled out the chair across from him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Ethan looked both exactly the same and completely unfamiliar. He still wore his dark hair longer on top, but silver had begun to spread at his temples. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a business meeting, and Gavin remembered how he used to feel like Ethan was a decade older instead of just two years, always so polished and controlled. Then he rubbed his thumb across the side of his index finger, and Gavin recognized the nervous habit immediately.

Gavin nodded at the folio in front of Ethan. “My lawyer reviewed the agreement. She didn’t find anything that conflicts with the dissolution terms.”

“Your lawyer works fast,” Ethan observed.

“We don’t have a lot of time. The offer expires Monday.” Gavin frowned.

“It does.”

“Then why are we just sitting here instead of signing the papers?”

Ethan lowered his gaze to the document holder. “You still do that.”

Gavin gritted his teeth. “Do what?”

“Skip past the part you don’t want to deal with and go straight to the thing that can be finished.”

Gavin exhaled slowly and forced his shoulders to relax. “This isn’t a reunion, Ethan. I’m just here to sign.”

“We can’t catch up first?”

Ethan sounded hurt. Gavin didn’t buy it.

“Just give me the papers.”

Ethan unzipped the case and removed a thick packet. Colored tabs marked several pages. “The flags are where you need to initial or sign. Once the money is transferred into escrow, the debts get paid, and the balance is divided fifty-fifty, per the dissolution agreement.” Ethan paused. “Unless we amend it.”

Gavin didn’t reach for the pen lying on top of the packet. “Why would we do that?”

Ethan leaned back, and something shifted on his face. “Because it’s enough to start again.”

Outside, a delivery truck maneuvered down the narrow street, and Gavin watched it over Ethan’s shoulder. “Start what again?”

“The company.”

Gavin huffed out a laugh. “There is no company.”

“There could be.” Ethan leaned forward, his forearms on the table. “The legal entity is dissolved but the relationships aren’t. Miller still has two properties he wants developed. The Hargroves never started construction after you left, but they renewed their permits after the fire. Drew said he would come back as project manager if we gave him enough notice. Think about it. We could lease a smaller shop and replace the equipment we actually need. We’d have working capital and no bank breathing down our necks.”

We. Gavin heard it in every excited sentence. Ethan had figured out exactly what he wanted the settlement to pay for.

“How long have you been planning this?” Gavin asked quietly.

Ethan seemed to realize that Gavin wasn’t on board, and he leaned back. “I started making calls when the insurance company reopened our claim and I knew there would be a settlement.”

“That was three months ago.”

“We spent eleven years building that company,” Ethan said defensively. “I wasn’t going to let the possibility disappear without finding out whether we could make it work.”