Page 40 of Full Mountie

“I understand now. And I’ll talk to Hugh. Apologize to him.”

I roll my eyes. “We don’t need to make a big deal out of this. I don’t think he’ll care. Just be more careful going forward.”

“Okay.” He sighs. “So now is probably not the time to tell you I miss you, eh?”

I smile. “Any time is good for that. Just don’t tell anyone else that you miss me.”

Even when I’m grumpy, I’m counting down the days until he returns.

16

Beth

It’sthe Monday after Lachlan left with Gavin for the prairies, and the morning just keeps dragging.

When Gavin is away, I get time to catch up on the less important tasks around the office, but those also tend to be the most boring.

Hugh struts into the office just as I’m putting the finishing touches to a report on softwood lumber. It’s one of those tasks that has been perpetually pushed down the priority list, but suddenly becomes pressing.

Gavin has a meeting next month with Jack Benton, a guy he knows from his labour union days. Jack’s like a real-life lumberjack billionaire. He made his money modernizing the family’s lumber business, then diversified in a big way. He owns an NHL team now, among other things. But he still looks like he just chopped down a tree. Right down to the beard and trademark plaid wool shirt collection that he wears instead of suits half the time. I bet he even keeps a chainsaw in the back of his pickup.

Great. Now I have that Monty Python song ringing in my ears.

I click save on my file, then look up from my computer to see Hugh smiling at me.

“Hey, Beth. Any chance you could squeeze in a coffee break this morning?”

For Hugh? Always. “Sure, just let me arrange for someone to cover for me.”

He walks over to the security team’s desk and sits in what I think of as Lachlan’s chair while I make the call. By the time the intern arrives a few minutes later, I’m ready to go.

“It’s a beautiful day, so I thought we’d grab coffee from the cafeteria, and take a short walk,” Hugh says as we head down the corridor.

“Sounds good to me.”

After we get our coffee, we walk out the front doors. The grounds are a little crowded—people likely looking to get themselves a selfie with the prime minister. They’re all out of luck. Sometimes I think there should be a flag flying when he’s around—kind of like the queen has on her palaces to say she’s in residence.

I’m really not in the mood to deal with all these people.

“Let’s walk around to the river,” I suggest as I point to the left.

“Great idea.” Hugh places his hand at the small of my back and guides me through the crowd.

Once we settle on a quiet bench, I ask how his morning is going. Normal small talk.

He’s having none of it. “My morning’s going just fine. Talk to me about the play party you went to.”

It takes my brain a second to catch up. Whoa.

“What’s with the jump-shift?” Apparently, his idea of appropriate coffee break conversation and mine are different.

Hugh just grins.

“What exactly are you looking for me to say?”

“Pretend you’re telling a friend about it. Make me feel like I was there with you.”

There is no way he’s getting a bedtime story and I tell him that.

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