Page 45 of Until Then

Larry smirks, his attention shifting to Izzy, who’s walked away from me to take in the back area where we’ve kept a wall of safe-deposit boxes.

“I can tell.”

Glowering up at him, I walk away, gritting my teeth and ignoring the way he chuckles.

As I approach, Izzy turns, her face lit up. “Do you have before pictures? I’d love to see how it started.”

“Sure, back at the store.”

The way her eyes are glowing when she looks at me shouldn’t make me feel this way. Like she’s the whole worldand I haven’t been living until now. It’swrong. I had a wife, and I loved her very much. I still love her, even after all these years. To make matters worse, Izzy isyoung. Twenty-seven. Layla’s age. She has her whole life ahead of her, and I—well, I don’t have one foot in the grave, but it feels wrong to rob her of the things she should experience if she were involved with someone her own age.

Clearing my throat, I step away and let her take the rest of the place in. Though by the way her eyes keep darting back to me, it’s clear she’s confused by my sudden distance.

How can I explain that I’m simultaneously drawn to her like a moth to a flame and terrified of the fire?

We don’t hang around for long, and the moment we’re back in the car and Izzy has removed the hard hat and smoothed down her hair, she says, “Can I see more?”

I know it shouldn’t matter, but my heart expands with pride at her excitement. At the knowledge that she wants to see more, that she so obviously cares about something I’m passionate about. It’s been a long time since someone truly cared about my interests the way she does. Shegenuinelywants to be a part of this.

Several hours later, severalprojectslater, we return to the shop to work for another hour before heading home.

Izzy put her hair up a while ago, but now she lets it down. I have to fight the urge to run my fingers through the dark wavy strands that fall halfway down her back to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

“That was so much fun.” She drops into her chair, making it spin slightly. “I understand why you love this.” Clutching the edge of her desk, she rights her chair and straightens, then wiggles her mouse to wake up her computer. “Taking something and tearing it down to the barestuds only to create something new? Incredible.” She lets out a wistful sigh. “Do you have any projects starting soon? Would you let me film one from start to finish for my channel?”

I cock my head and take her in: the slightly mussed hair, the bright eyes, the pink cheeks. “Projects can take months.”

“I-I know,” she stutters.

“Do you plan to be in town that long?”

Ducking, she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I… yeah, I think so. If I get to be too much, though, let me know. I’ll look for an apartment.”

“An apartment?” I raise a brow. “Thatislong-term thinking.” I hesitate before saying it, but ultimately decide to blurt it out. “You’re not going back to LA, are you?”

For a moment, she watches me, trepidation taking over her excitement. Then she gives a slow, subtle shake of her head. “I don’t plan on it. I don’t know when I first realized it, but I’m so much happier here. The idea of going back feels… suffocating.” She bites her lip and slowly meets my eye like a tentative, wounded animal.

My gut clenches at the uncertainty swimming in those green depths.Does she think I’m going to kick her out of my house? Tell her it’s a horrible idea?

“You should do what makes you happy.”

Her responding smile is small, nervous. “I’m still not sure what that means for me, but regardless of all thedrama”—she sticks her tongue out in disgust—“it was the wake-up call I needed. I’ve always loved what I do, and I don’t want to stop, but it’s time for me to pivot.”

“Well”—I lean my chair back, going for a casualness I don’t feel—“you’re welcome to stay with me for as long as you need.”

“I appreciate it.” The smile she gives me this time seems happier, more genuine.

When she turns back to the computer, she even sits taller, like she’s been carrying a weight around. Like my simple offer of support has lightened that load.

Like maybe I’ve given her a renewed sense of purpose.

13

IZZY

“I can’t believeI’m doing this,” Derrick grumbles, though he makes no move to pull away from me.

“It’s face mask night,” I say, spreading a charcoal mask over his forehead and cheeks. “Youhaveto join in.”

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