Page 112 of A Matter of Time

“You have questions already.”

“No, no, no.” I waved my hand dismissively. “Go on.”

He nodded. “Well, I get to the door, ring the bell, and Caleb Reid answers and he invites me in. I dump everything in the foyer and—what?” he grumbled at me.

“What?” I looked at him hard.

“You smiled.”

“I smiled?”

“Yes. You smiled. Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes. Why are you smiling?”

“I can’t smile?”

“I will murder you.”

He got another smile over that comment. “Sorry. You said foyer. You’re the only person I know who would use the word foyer when they’re telling a story.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” he groaned. “Try and focus for once.”

“Yeah…sorry. Go on, go on.”

Quick breath. “All right, so I drop my stuff, and then I walk into the living room and she’s right there, sitting on the couch. There’s no adjustment time or announcement—I’m just suddenly face-to-face with my birth mother.”

“Oh shit.”

“Well said.”

“What did she say?”

“She said hello.”

“And? Go on, you’re killing me here.”

“She wanted me to sit by her on the couch, and I did. I didn’t want to hold her hand, but I could tell she did, so I did. I actually thought, what would Jory do if he were here?” He smiled suddenly, and his eyes were soft.

And at that moment, with the weight of his gaze on me, I got it. In my life he was the constant. Everything else changed, but Dane Harcourt remained. When I had been glib the night at the police station, wished them good luck finding anyone I loved, they’d needed to look no further than my boss. I admired the man, I was devoted to him and his welfare, and I just plain old loved him. Not lust—I didn’t want to sleep with him—but he was like the big brother I’d never had and had always wanted. He was my family.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I shook my head.

“So should I keep going?”

“Yes, yes, go, go.”

“All right.” He sighed deeply. “Well, I held her hand, and she starts telling me how much she didn’t want to give me up and blah, blah, blah⁠—”

“Boss!”

“What? It’s the truth. I sort of tuned out. I mean, I didn’t do it intentionally, but I stopped listening because I realized that I really, truly don’t care.”

“How d’ya mean?”