He drums his fingers on the arm of the chair. “In a couple of weeks.”

“So you’ll be moving back to the city?” Just saying it out loud makes my stomach twist uncomfortably. From the moment Van moved into Bee’s cottage, I knew it was temporary, that eventually he would go back to the city, because that’s where all the great architecture jobs are. But I didn’t expect the news to hurt as much as it does. And that’s just the idea of it, not his actually moving.

“Come with me,” he says. “I know maybe you can’t do that right away because of your dad and working for his company, but once things are under control here, you can move back to the city with me. I’m sure I can pull some strings and get you an interview at my company. You’d be a fantastic fit. You’re already staying with me most of the time now, so moving in together wouldn’t even be much of a transition. And we could work in different departments so we’re not in the same space, if you don’t want to make it weird or anything.”

His excitement makes me giddy, and my immediate gut reaction is to say yes, because I don’t want to lose this man. Over the past few months, I’ve fallen undeniably, hopelessly in love with him. As much as I want to be with him, I worry that following him back to the city will be trading one kind of happiness for another.

“I love you,” I say gently.

“I love you too.” He swallows thickly, his smile uncertain.

“I came back to Pearl Lake because I felt an obligation to help my family.” I look around the office, at the space I’ve made my own over the past several months.

“I know. And you’ve been amazing. Footprint Renovations has never done better.”

I nod, although I’m not the reason for the success; I’m just part of the package. “Now that I’ve had a chance to spend some time here and rebuild all the relationships I let languish when I moved to the city, I’ve realized that it wasn’t the town that was the problem. It was me and the situation I put myself in. I wanted out because I didn’t know how to fix the mess I’d made, and now things are different. I’m different.”

“You don’t want to leave anymore.” His voice is laced with sadness and understanding.

I shake my head. “I understand that you need to do what’s best for you, and if that’s taking your old job back, then that’s what you should do. I want to be with you, Van. I love what we have, but this is my home. My heart is yours, but it belongs here.”

CHAPTER 29

I MISS YOU ALREADY

Dillion

The first month is a rough transition. Midweek visits are basically impossible as Van dives headfirst into his new job.

I end up going to Chicago for the first weekend instead of him coming home to Pearl Lake, but it wasn’t at all what we expected. He worked most of the weekend, leaving me to entertain myself and solidifying my resolve that I’m done with living in the city. But I’m determined to make our relationship work, because I love him more than I thought possible.

Tawny and Allie turn Wednesdays into a girls’ night to break up the week. We hang out like old times, and I tell them all about the hockey players on the other side of the lake while they share the town gossip. I find out that Tucker and Sue finally broke things off, only after a paternity test proved that the baby wasn’t his. Sue ended up moving to the next town over, incidentally where Sterling happens to live. As bad as I feel for Tucker, he made his bed, and now he has to lie in it.

Even with the girls’ nights and all the dinners with my family, I’ve gotten used to having Van around all the time, so scaling back to two days a week is an adjustment, and not a great one. Especially when he has to cut the next weekend short because of a project he needs to finish. One night with him out of fourteen isn’t sustainable.

We talk every night on the phone, but he’s always tired by the end of the day, and it isn’t the same as having him next to me. He’s offered to let me stay at Bee’s, but it feels weird without him. Far lonelier than my trailer.

Finally, six weeks after he takes the job in the city, I get him for a three-day weekend. He’s due home in a couple of hours, so I shower, shave, do my hair, and even put on makeup before I head over to Van’s and start preparing dinner, wanting to be there when he finally arrives home.

At six thirty I give in and message, asking about an ETA. It takes half an hour for him to message me back, and when he does, it’s with a “Sorry, had an impromptu dinner meeting,” and he’s just leaving now.

I stand in the kitchen, staring at the chopped veggies and the dressed chicken while fighting tears. I’m not a crier—I never have been—but the past several weeks have been hard without Van, and instead of things getting easier with time, everything’s grown increasingly more difficult. Long-distance relationships are tough, and I’ve always been a proximity person.

I put all the food away, saving it for tomorrow night, and make myself a grilled cheese instead. By the time Van gets home, it’s nearly eight thirty. He drops his duffel bag at the door, and I don’t even have a chance to pull my depressed ass off the couch before he’s straddling my lap, one knee sinking into the cushions on either side of me, hands in my hair, thumbs under my chin, tipping my head back.

“I missed you so much.” His eyes search mine for a moment, hot and needy and desperate, before he slants his mouth over mine.

We don’t make it to the bedroom, instead frantically stripping in the middle of the living room. The coffee table gets shoved out of the way. We nearly break a lamp, and the couch creaks ominously beneath us, but we both seem to need the connection in a way that defies logic and reason. Also, the couch is seven million years old and probably needs to be replaced.

Half an hour and two orgasms later, I’m wearing Van’s dress shirt and nothing else, and he’s in boxers and a pair of sweats. It’s too cold to go shirtless, so eventually he pulls on a Henley, and we snuggle on the couch.

“I’m sorry I was so late getting home.” He kisses my temple.

“It’s okay, I know it’s been busy.”

“Mmm.” He plays with my fingers. “It has been. Busier than I anticipated, really. I actually had a meeting with my boss this evening about my contract.”

“Oh?” I tip my head up to meet his gaze.

He seems nervous. “I showed him some of the designs I was working on while I was here this summer. They wanted to shift me into lead architect for one of our big clients.”

My stomach twists uncomfortably. “That sounds amazing. What exactly does that entail?”

“I’d be the lead for an entire project. So if a client wants a new green space designed, I’d oversee everything from an architectural standpoint. I’d have a team working under me and everything.”

“That’s incredible.” I know from my time doing project management that managing a team is a huge job, especially in a big company. He’ll have to work longer hours and be in the city probably more than he already is. I want to be happy for him, but I don’t know what that means for us.

“It is, but I said I couldn’t take it unless they gave me flex hours.”

“Flex hours? Why?”