“You said what?” Tasha...screeched instead of asked.

Mia shoved a pile of shirts onto another pile of shirts from her bed onto her bedroom floor. Her friend's reaction is why she hadn't said anything for at least three days. The only reason she was being confronted now is that Tasha used her key, forgoing sleep before her shift decked out in a scarf and PJ's. She sat crossed-legged on the floor and tackled the pile of socks. Her duty was ferreting out pairless ones.

Mia said, “I told him to wait, which is just damn cruel and selfish and impulsive.”

“But do you want him to?”

She debated mentioning that she cried for an hour straight after reading Kincaid's email. So, yeah, Mia was pretty sure the glimmer of hope that she hadn't forever fucked up with Kincaid was exactly what she wanted. “I had regrets. I haven't had regrets since I decided to travel. I kept rewriting our goodbye in my head.”

Tasha sucked her teeth. “Wanting a do-over to say goodbye is one thing. Wanting him to wait until you're ready to love him back is a totally different thing.”

She had hoped her friend wouldn't notice that. Mia rolled from the bed and began folding the pile of shirts.

“And,” Tasha added, “we are in your room going through everything you own to downsize. Like you're planning to move and need only the essentials.”

Mia had prayed Tasha wouldn't notice that either. “It's time. I've bought things on a whim and never culled. I'm home for a few weeks.”

“Or more, because you haven't mentioned anything about another destination.”

“Goddammit, Tasha. Can I live in my denial for a little while?”

Her friend laughed. “No. What colors do you want your wedding to have?”

Mia's heart skipped. She couldn't be sure if it was from fear or excitement, and that's why she hadn't booked a ticket to Glasgow. “You know what I'm actually imagining? That I pack up everything I own, I live with him. It's fantastic for six months and...I get sick. Really sick this time.” A dark, helpless emotion coiled up in her stomach and clenched it tight. “He leaves. What then? I'm sick and alone. And so heartbroken. What then, Tasha?”

Mia closed her eyes to fight back the tears. She wanted to cry just at the thought of things not working out between her and Kincaid.

Tasha let out a long sigh. “If that happens, which I doubt, because everything you told me about Kincaid says to me he sticks. He's loyal. His word is the hill he'll die on. But it things go tits up, you'll call me, and I'll be right there to fuck up his car, his house, his life.”

Mia choked on her laugh. “Tasha.”

“I'm for real. I'll channel Left Eye from TLC and burn all his shit to the ground for breaking your heart.”

“I'm being serious.”

“So. Am. I.” Tasha threw a sock at Mia she easily dodged. “Let's just pause for a moment. For the first time in a year, you slowed down. A man caught you off guard. You loved it. You're still talking about him. I don't think you've mentioned Hank to me since you left the hotel months ago.” Tasha pressed her hands together and pressed them against her lips for a moment. When she glanced up, her gaze was serious. “You're scared of heartbreak, but you've already broken your own heart by leaving Kincaid.”

Tasha was right.

Mia hadn't been ready to leave Kincaid.

She wanted to wake up to Kincaid in the morning. She wanted to try out his next batch of homebrews. She wanted to go off to some exotic place, come back to him. Come back home, because he was home now.

Tasha spread her hands. “So what now?”

“I—”

Her phone rang, cutting her sentence short. She dug her cell out of the pile, quickly scanning the number. Her heart literally stopped. A number with a Scotland area code lit up the screen. She could count on her fingers the people she knew in Scotland. Only one mattered. She held up a hand to Tasha, a signal to hold on.

“Hey,” she answered, her breath still caught in her lungs.

“Lassie.”

“Oh.” The disappointment leaked out like air from a punctured tire. “Hey, Baird.”

Tasha waved her hands around and since they’d been friends for eons, Mia could interpret the question. She mouthed, “Old boss. Busybody.”

Her friend’s mouth formed into an ‘O’ as she nodded.

“I don’t have much time to work up to a good lather with you.”

“Lather?”

“Buttering you up as they say. I need you.”

“You need me? I thought your nephew and his wife were back.”

“They are. Victoria’s pregnant again. Far enough along I won’t feel right putting her to work in the pub when she has free time. And Davina quit.”

Mia could only blink for a minute. “Davina?” her disbelief made her voice go up an octave. She'd worked many shifts back to back with the woman. She knew the pub inside and out and loved it. “She’s worked for you I don’t know how many years.”

“She walked. With Victoria benched, I’m short two barmaids.”

Mia glanced at her friend who once again flailed her arms for an update. “And you’re calling me?”

“I assume you’re still in London.”

She should have been. Her schedule had included two weeks in London. She'd planned to hit all the towns nearby. The podcast she had in mind would have been epic, but she couldn’t take another moment being in the UK without Kincaid at her side. She’d come home, and home didn’t feel that way anymore. Not this time. “I—”

Tasha threw a pillow at her.

“Hold on,” Mia said into the phone. She hit the mute button. “What?”

“Is it him?”

“No. It’s a job. Remember the man I worked for? The Baird? He needs a waitress. He thinks I’m still in the UK.”

“You’re not ‘cause you’re a chicken.”

She turned off mute and said into the mouthpiece, “I’m so sorry. Can you hold? Or do you want me to call you back?”

“I can hold,” the Baird said like he had all the time in the world.

“What?” Tasha asked. “This is it, Mia. What is holding you back?”

Go back and stay. Go back home.

Mia dug around to see if the fears were still there. Yeah. They were legion.

But…

She could see Kincaid again. She could take his face into her hands, rest her forehead against hers and just breathe. She could get hit with a punch of joy from making him laugh when he was being grumpy. Or an invite into a shower if he’d been imbibing.

He…

He could be ‘Caid.

Mia turned mute off. “When do you need me?”

“Right now, but I’ll take within the next twenty-four hours as a concession.”

Her brain came roaring in and jumped out of her mouth. “Can I get back to you?”

The Baird's sigh cloyed with disappointment. “I guess I have no other choice.”

She quickly debated giving the man the scoop. “I'm not in London. I’m in California.”

“Well then, I'll extend the deadline to forty-eight hours.”

Her heart piped up. “Is he okay?”

“Would I be calling you with this farce of an offer if I thought he was? His brother's here, taken leave from work to be here. Grant's giving his brother to the end of the week and then he's calling all the siblings for reinforcement. Kincaid loves you, lassie. When someone you love leaves you behind it takes a while to heal. If you ever do.”

She knew enough of Baird's story to feel about an inch tall recognizing the similarities. “What if—”

He huffed. “What is the only thing that has scared the life right out of you?”

“Dying,” she answered honestly with a whisper. “Not even Kincaid can glare that fear away.”

“He’s not supposed to, but I’d put money on him making life worth living. He has a wild streak when you’re around.”

She closed her eyes. He did keep up. No matter how many times she threw him off balance. She swallowed, opening her gaze. “When you put it like that, I’ll see you in two days?”

Mia ignored Tasha’s happy squeal, already ending the call with the Baird to phone her favorite airline. She was going to end up paying twice as much, if not more, for the last-minute flight.

It was okay though. She was running toward Kincaid.