She nodded and fought back a flood of fresh tears. It was the weirdest feeling. She was wildly happy and impossibly sad at the same time. Why did this feel like hello and goodbye at the same time? And why the hell had she called Ava to take her home? She could’ve ridden back with him and had a few more hours before they went back to their separate lives.

“I—I haven’t given you my number.” She stepped back and opened her purse, sifting through with a shaky hand for a pen and a piece of scrap paper.

“I’ll just put it in my phone.”

“That makes sense.” She waited as he pulled up his contacts and typed in her name.

“G-r-a-h-a-m?”

She nodded. “I forgot I told you my last name.”

“I didn’t.”

She shook her head, laughing and fighting away the tears that were still pressing in. She recited her number, waiting as he typed it in and showed her for confirmation, then nodded.

She bent down and wrapped Samson in a whole-arm hug. “Bye, buddy.” He licked her ear, and that was all it took for Olivia’s tears to rush forth unchecked. “Dammit. I hate goodbyes,” she said, standing back up.

Gabe pulled her in to his chest again. “If I have anything to say about it, it’s not goodbye, just good night.”

Somehow Olivia made it through another kiss without falling into full, blubbery oblivion—What the heck was wrong with her anyway?—and over to her sister’s car. She plopped into the passenger seat and shut the door, wiping the stream of tears from her cheeks.

“Don’t ask, just drive, okay?”

Ava squeezed her knee before flipping on the ignition. “Yeah, okay, Sis. But I’m pretty sure I don’t have to ask a thing. I know the real thing when I see it.”

Chapter 10

Gabe was still a half hour from home when he determined he couldn’t drive another mile without a pick-me-up of some sort. Spotting a gas station, he pulled off the highway and filled his less-than-half-empty tank simply to stand in the chilly night air for a few minutes. As it filled, he let Samson stretch his legs and take a leak on the grass at the far end of the parking lot. Afterward, Gabe headed inside for a king-size Snickers and a 16-ounce coffee that he suspected couldn’t have been accurately described as fresh for half a day at least. Normally, he liked his coffee black, but after a cautious sip, he decided he wouldn’t be able to choke it down without a spoonful or two of sugar.

Welcome company that Samson was, the tuckered-out dog proved to be no help in the final stretch of the drive. The methodic, heavy snore that lulled Gabe to sleep most nights filled the cab and counteracted the soft buzz he got from chugging the coffee.