Now, in the fading light, with the crackle of the fire, she told him about getting that first job in event management and how it had changed her life. Once back on her feet financially, she’d worked to exchange the hectic life of a Boston-based event planner for the one she had now, on her own in Knights Bridge. She’d done big conferences and corporate board meetings and all the rest and would continue to do so from time to time, but she liked planning small-town events best.
“Some people think I’ve given up on my ambitions,” she said, tucking her feet under her. “I haven’t. This is what I want to do, where I want to be.”
“No guy out here?”
“Where did that question come from? Never mind. Don’t answer. I can say for certain I didn’t come back to Knights Bridge because of a man—one I left in Boston or one here.”
“What about one of the Sloan brothers? I could see you and Adam Sloan together. Quiet guy. Stonemason. You two wouldn’t clash.”
She smiled. “Ha. Adam’s a great guy. All the Sloans are.”
“Brandon and Justin are married, and Eric’s engaged to a paramedic. Mark isn’t sure the paramedic is going to last if Eric doesn’t get his act together and set a wedding date. I don’t see you and Eric together, though. He’s the eldest of six. He likes order. You’d rebel. It wouldn’t be pretty.”
“Think so, huh?”
He grinned at her. “Uh-huh. What about Christopher? He’s a firefighter—he’s a bit younger but not by much.”
“He’s getting over Ruby O’Dunn.”
“Ah. Ruby. I understand Hollywood called to her.”
“She’s happy out there but homesick. Maggie wants to get out to California before Ruby comes home.”
Gabe got up and tossed another log on the fire. “I’m staying out of it.”
“This from a man who just suggested I should go out with one of the Sloan brothers.”
“You’re different,” he said without missing a beat. “We have a history.”
“So that’s your excuse.”
He heard amusement in her tone and turned to her, the light from the fire catching her smile. He sat back down, one knee up as he eased close to her. “I have never tried to run your life.”
“Are you kidding? Gabriel Flanagan, you can’t be serious. You told me I was a lousy financial analyst and I needed to change careers.”
He shrugged. “I stated the obvious. You already knew. You got mad at me for telling you what you didn’t want to admit to yourself.”
“You commented on my debt,” she said.
“You were sleeping on my couch.”
“That makes it okay?”
“Not my point. If you’d been solvent, you wouldn’t have needed my couch. Your financial situation was the elephant in the room. And I made it clear it was up to you to figure out what to do with your life. It wasn’t my decision.”
He was being straight with her, as he’d been then—if not diplomatic. He’d been mystified at how she could have taken offense to his comments. Everything he’d said that day at his apartment had seemed straightforward and obvious to him.
“Felicity...” He hesitated. “In my world, it’s a gift to figure out you’re on the wrong course. Then you can figure out how to make the corrections you need to get on the right course.”
“I can see that. I guess sometimes we all need a bucket of cold water dumped on our heads to figure out we’re on the wrong course.”
“I was your bucket of cold water?”
She grinned. “You added ice just to make sure I got the message.”
“I missed that.”
“Mmm. You thought you were just being a friend.”
He said nothing, and they watched the fire die to red coals. The night had turned dark. He saw bright stars above them. He’d never been good with stars. The protected reservoir and small size of its surrounding towns curtailed ambient light and often brought star-gazers to the area.
“You could get into stars now that you live out here,” he said absently.
“What? Yes—yes I could.” She turned to him. “Thanks for asking me to tell my story, and for listening.”
“Would you have become an event manager if I’d kept my mouth shut?”
“I don’t know. I probably would have slept on your couch and watched television for a few more days.”
“And made brownies?”
“That stuck in your craw, didn’t it?”
“That was the idea, wasn’t it? My mouth was watering, and there were no brownies to be found.”
“Should have made some yourself.”
“Not the point.”
“Have you ever made brownies?”
He shook his head. “Never. Easier to buy them.”
Her eyes glowed in the firelight, her cheeks pink with the warm night—or something else. Gabe didn’t want to think about that right now. How attracted to her he was, how much he wanted to kiss her. “It’s your turn, then,” she said abruptly, as if reading his mind. “Tell me about your life the past three years. I’d like to know what you’ve been up to.”
“Making money. Working. Traveling. That’s it.” He slapped at a mosquito that landed on his knee. “Missed. Looks as if the mosquitoes have found us.”
Felicity gave him a skeptical look. “All right. We’ll talk about you another time.”
“You have a big day tomorrow. Why don’t you go on in? I’ll put out the fire and bring in the matches and the quilt.”
“You’re the one speaking.”
“It’s a panel. I’ll speak for maybe ten minutes. You’ll be on all day. Anyway, I’m on California time. Go on.” He blew her a kiss. “See you in the morning.”
She got to her feet, stepping on the hem of her dress, adjusting it quickly. “I sometimes wonder how many times you sat out here as a kid.”
“A lot,” he said. “And later, with you.”
“I remember.” She blew
