“Very serious. Polish up that résumé tonight, and I’ll forward it over.”

I set my coffee down and reached over to hug him.

“You know, with your interest in history, I might have something to keep you busy.”

“Mom,” Roman groaned, shaking his head.

“Let her continue. She said my favorite word—history.”

“I thought Roman was your favorite word.” He grinned.

“Second favorite word,” I corrected, playfully elbowing him.

“When I moved to my apartment in the city, I had to go through almost everything in the house to decide what to take and what to leave behind. There are generations of Cavenaugh things here. I have boxes and boxes of pictures, documents, and such in the attic. I haven’t had the chance to go through and catalog it, and to be honest, I don’t even have a clue as to how to begin.”

“Stop right there,” I said, holding my hand up. “Yes, please. I’d be happy to do whatever it is you’re about to ask, as long as it means I get to get my hands on those boxes.”

“Really? Because it sounds like a terrible burden.”

I shook my head. “To me, you basically just said, Hey, here are a dozen boxes of Godiva chocolate. Do you want them?”

We both laughed.

Soon, Roman was hiking up to the drafty attic with me and his mother, and we figured out which boxes could go with us that night and what would be sent by courier since Roman’s car was the size of a go-kart.

“Thank you so much for this, dear. I can’t wait to see what you do with all of it. And take your time.”

“I’m going to dive in as soon as I get home!” I said excitedly.

“Great, Mom. Thanks for killing my sex life,” Roman said behind me, making me instantly blush.

“Oh, hush, you. You’re making the poor girl turn red.” She said, scolding her son. Turning back to me, she winked, “I promise, I really did raise him to be a proper gentleman. It’s in there somewhere.”

I laughed, leaning forward. “He likes to pretend he’s prickly and mean, but he’s everything you raised him to be and more.”

She wrapped her arms around me, giving me a long warm hug. “Thank you, Cara, and please… hold on to him.”

“As tight as I’m able to,” I promised, thinking back to his earlier words regarding kids.

I hoped it would be enough.

Chapter Twenty-One

“You want to what?” Jude’s voice boomed on the other end of the phone line.

“You heard me,” I replied. Leaning back in my comfy leather chair, I quietly looked out toward the crystal-blue sky of the city, feeling light and content—two words that usually did not coincide with work.

“I did. I just never thought I’d actually hear those words springing forth from your mouth.”