Page 51 of Love Songs

Rustling sounds in the background echoed down the line and I pictured him at home, stretching out on a couch. Or maybe he’d stripped down to nothing and had crawled into bed. He’d be sitting up and leaning against the headboard, his chest bare and glowing like gold in the low lamplight.

“I didn’t know that,” I said, distracted by the mental images of a naked Conor in bed playing in my mind.

“Yeah. Couldn’t tell you if that’s true or not, but anyway,” Conor began, his voice gaining steam as he spoke. “We show up to find this massive horse. Like a Clydesdale or something. One of those big draft horses that pull the Budweiser beer wagons, you know?”

“Yep, a Clydesdale.”

“Yeah.” I could hear the smile in Conor’s voice as he continued. “He was apparently scratching his neck on a tree trunk, only the trunk he’d found was growing off in two directions like a Y. Turns out he was smart enough to figure out he could scratch both sides at the same time if he lowered his head, but not smart enough to realize he could get stuck.”

“So, he got stuck,” I said with a snicker, knowing where this was going.

“Stuck real good,” Conor said, his voice so earnest I could picture the serious expression on his face and the glint in his eyes as he retold the tale.

“How did you get him out?” I asked, fully invested in the story now.

“Finally had to cut one of the branches off,” Conor said like it was no big deal. “That damn horse stood there calm as could be while we took a chainsaw to the tree. Then stepped back and right onto Jackson’s foot. Rookie’s got a bruise as black as night over half his foot now. So, while Jackson is hopping around howling like a wounded cat, this big ole horse walks right back up to that tree and starts scratching his neck again.”

Conor started laughing. The sound unguarded and free and infectious. I couldn’t help but join in with a full belly laugh that might very well have been the freest sound to come from my lungs in a long while.

“No,” I gasped while catching my breath as our laughter died down.

“True story,” he said with conviction.

“Your job is full of adventure,” I marveled.

“It’s never the same twice,” he said and yawned so loud that I once again followed his lead with my own jaw-cracking yawn.

“I should let you get some sleep then,” I said reluctantly.

“Wait,” he said, suddenly sounding more awake. “What did you call for?”

“Oh. I, uh . . . Wanted to let you know that I’ll be coming to town this weekend and I was hoping we could get together.” I quickly added, “I’ll have Jaylin with me, too.”

There was a long pause, and I swear my heart stopped. Had I been imagining that he might feel the same as me? Or was it because I’d mentioned my daughter?

“I would love that,” he said, his honeyed voice low and soft.

I exhaled long and slow.

“Great,” I said, as my heart resumed its normal rhythm. “We’re staying at the Lakeside Inn again. I’ll text you when we get in.”

“See you, Dallas,” Conor said.

“See you, Conor.”

I dropped back in my chair with a satisfied sigh, and the conviction that I was on the right path.

Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

“I’M PRETTY SUREit’s only been ten seconds since the last time you checked your watch,” Sam said, motioning toward said watch with his beer bottle.

We were sitting at our usual table in the back of Lucy’s Pub for our regular Friday night beers. Just my besties and me tonight. Adam was under deadline working on a new book, Ben was still at the library, and Phillip was back in Germany for a couple of weeks. But I was having a hell of a time sitting still. My phone felt like the business end of a branding iron in my back jeans pocket, drawing near all my attention while I anxiously waited for it to vibrate with an incoming text.

“Yeah.” Haider rocked forward on his chair, the sheen of his pink collared shirt catching the light like a beacon. “What’s going on?”

I glanced around the table and shrugged. “Nothing?”

Ugh. I’d been going for nonchalant, but that pesky inflection ruined my whole playing it cool vibe. I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping they didn’t pick up on that.

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