Page 41 of The Lucky Heart (Jamison Valley 3)
“Tyson?” His eyes snapped from Andrea’s chest to mine, then up to my face. “Would you mind if we delayed our conversation for another day? Andrea is a dear friend from high school. You’ll be in good hands with her tonight.”
A laugh escaped Silas’s mouth and he coughed to cover it up.
“Fine,” Tyson said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“And I’ll be waiting on pins and needles until then,” I deadpanned.
When they were out of sight, I turned to Silas and smacked him in the arm. “Thanks for all your help.”
He grinned. “You had it well under control. I was just glad I got to watch.”
“I should feel guilty for setting Andrea up with a known womanizer, but I just don’t.”
“Her? I feel bad for him. She’s going to eat him alive.”
We laughed together. “I’m going to escape now before someone else attacks us on the street.”
He waved. “See you later.”
I waved back before walking to my car. The smile on my face stayed there for hours.
Silas
Friends. As much as I had hated that idea a week ago, right now it seemed to be making a whole lot of sense.
Felicity’s apology had been healing. When she’d left all those years ago, it had cut deep. But the lingering pain had disappeared when I’d looked into her eyes tonight and seen regret and sincerity.
Before dinner, I had been ready to press for more. To turn this friendship dinner into a date. But now I was going to pull back.
I was thirty-six years old and this would be my last chance to win Felicity’s heart. I couldn’t risk rushing things and fucking up my chance.
Backing off would give her time to settle into her life here. She’d have the opportunity to plant some roots and to remember that this is where she belonged.
If she wanted to work on the ranch this spring, I’d let her. We’d do this friend thing until then, because once she set foot on the Lucky Heart, I was making her mine.
“If I gave you the entire balance of my 401k, would you move here?” I asked Sabrina.
My best friend started laughing hysterically into the phone.
This had become an ongoing joke between us: me begging her to move from Seattle to Montana, her stubbornly refusing.
“Sorry, lady. Not happening. Didn’t you say that it snowed six inches last night?”
“Shit, I shouldn’t have told you that. It will melt. Winter is not eternal around here.”
“Yeah, it’ll melt in March or April, but it’s only December. I can’t live in a place where the snow sticks for four or five months in a row. Your 401k isn’t big enough to pay for the large winter wardrobe that I’d require to live in Montana.”
“I’m seriously considering finding a new best friend.”
“Uh-huh. You’re stuck with me and you like it.”
She was right. The two of us would be friends forever. When our families eventually committed us to a nursing home, we’d arrange to be roommates.
Sabrina MacKenzie and I had met by chance the first week that I’d moved to Seattle. We had both been shamelessly bribing the owner of a small apartment complex for his last open unit. When we’d figured out that he’d been scamming us both, we’d told him to fuck off and moved in together. She’d been my partner in crime ever since.
We complemented each other. My attitude hadn’t scared her away, and I had bulldozed my way into her vacant best-friend position. She called me on my shit, and because of it, I’d learned to see my attitude for what it was, a defense mechanism. I didn’t need that defense with Sabrina. She saw me for me, and because she’d always have my back, I had found the courage to come home.
If only I could convince her to move to Montana. These phone calls to keep apprised of each other’s lives weren’t enough.
