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Of course he’d find some ridiculous sheriff logic to justify putting her on the spot. She stared through the windshield again, trying to decide where to begin. She’d rehearsed versions of this conversation on the plane and during the hours since, but none of them seemed right anymore. Not with him beside her and the possibility of everything she wanted suddenly within reach.
“Fen and I talked a few days ago. He made me realize I’d spent a lot of time thinking about all the reasons a relationship between us would be difficult without giving nearly enough thought to how we could make it work.”
“That sounds like Fen.”
“It was. Annoyingly perceptive and accompanied by enough attitude to make sure I couldn’t ignore him.” She shifted in her seat, facing him a little more. “But he was right. I’ve been treating L.A. like it’s the only place I can have the career I’ve built when it isn’t.”
“He reminded me that most of my work doesn't require me to live in California. I can write my blog and work with my social media team from anywhere. Madeline can handle contracts, and even the production company can work around where I'm based, at least for now.”
“For now?”
“If Life, Restyled gets picked up by a major network someday, everything could change. They might want me in Los Angeles. They might want New York. They could want something none of us have thought of yet. But even then, filming would only take about two months if we pushed the schedule. I could fly back on the weekends.” Amanda turned her hand beneath his and linked their fingers. “I realized I was making decisions about right now based on things that might never happen. And even if they do, it doesn’t mean I have to build my entire life around them.”
He was silent for several seconds. “Are you saying you want to move here?”
Her heart gave a hard thump. “I’m saying I’m considering it.”
His hand closed around hers more firmly.
“But that’s where I got stuck,” she continued. “Because Fen could tell me I can work from Wyoming. He couldn’t tell me whether you wanted me here.”
Grady turned his head toward her for a second before his attention returned to the road. “You thought I wouldn’t?”
“I didn’t know. We never talked about any of this. We knew from the beginning that I was leaving, and sometimes I wondered if that was part of why things worked between us. There was never any pressure to figure out what came afterward.”
“Amanda—”
“So before I started making plans to sell my house and move my life to Wyoming for a man who might be perfectly happy with phone calls and occasional visits, I thought maybe I should ask the man.”
“Uh, yeah. That would probably be a good place to start.”
She squeezed his hand. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“Only because you apparently spent five weeks worrying about whether I wanted you here, while I spent the same amount of time trying to figure out how the hell to ask you to be here without making it sound like I expected you to give up your entire life for me.”
Amanda stared at him.
“That’s why I went to California,” he added.
The words sank in slowly, easing several of her fears. “You were going to ask me to move here?”
“I was going to ask what you wanted. Then tell you what I wanted.”
“And what do you want?”
His fingers flexed around hers. “You.”
One word, and her eyes suddenly burned.
Grady muttered something under his breath and flipped on his turn signal.
“What are you doing?”
“Something I should’ve done before now.”
He guided the SUV into the next rest area and pulled into a parking space away from the handful of other vehicles. The moment he shifted into park, he released her hand and unbuckled his seat belt.
She barely had time to do the same before he turned toward her. His hand plunged into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he drew her closer. The look in his eyes stole every thought from her mind.
