Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(46)

“Britt, I have to get rid of stuff. I can’t take that into Isaac’s house.”

“Fine, fine. Don’t keep a memento of the game that launched our friendship.” She fake cries.

I laugh. “OK. Put it in the save pile.”

She pumps her arm and smacks herself a high five, shouting “Right next to the breast pump I rescued.” She runs back into the house just as Isaac pulls up.

“Cordova moving service, here to help you,” he says loudly from his open window, then grabs the bill of his baseball cap and tips his head. He gets out and comes around the front of his truck.

“I didn’t know I hired a professional,” I yell back before picking up a box from the patio where Britt has been setting them down. We have an assembly line going. My dad’s keeping Claire occupied in the back yard.

Isaac strides across the yard and takes the box from my arms. “The pro can take it from here.”

I frown. I don’t need that much help.

He’s already at the bed of his truck, sliding my box across. I pick up another box and hurry to my car, placing it in the trunk. When I turn around he’s shaking his head at me.

“Well, well, well. We meet again.”

We both turn to find Britt on the porch, setting down another box. She wipes her hands on her jeans and walks down the steps. Isaac meets her halfway, his hand extended, but Britt hugs him.

She steps back and surveys him, one eye closed from the sun’s glare. “Five years ago I gave you the green light, but I didn’t know you had super swimmers.”

“Britt!” I smack the top of her arm.

Isaac laughs. Like always.

“What can I say? I eat a lot of protein.” He shrugs, and now Britt’s the one laughing.

I huff. “I’m glad you both find this so amusing.”

Britt curls a hand around my shoulder. “Aw, we can joke now Aubrey. It’s all over.” She leans into me. “Or it’s just getting started.” Her whisper tickles my ear. I reach up to rub away the sensation.

She steps away. “Just a couple more boxes to go. Aubrey, come help me carry them out. I’m sure Isaac can load all that”—she tosses a thumb back at the stacks on the porch—“into his truck.”

“On it.” Isaac goes for the first box on the stack. I don’t miss the pull in the arms of his T-shirt when he lifts the box. And neither does Britt.

Once we're in the house and safely out of earshot, she grabs my arm and pretends to swoon. “Oh, my. Dr. Cordova just added about ten degrees to the outside temperature. And it’s already almost sweltering.”

“I know,” I say under my breath, even though there's no way he can hear me. Through the open door I watch him cross the yard again, coming back to the porch for another box. I pull her down the hall to my room and say in my normal voice, “He’s not lacking in the attractive department.”

“No, he’s not.” She shakes her head. “Or in the personality department. Or the career department. Or the family one.” She slides me a pointed look. “He’s a dream come true. Literally. He’s your dream of having a perfect family, come true.” She goes to my closet and pulls open the door. “So why are you holding back?” She doesn’t look at what’s inside the closet, just at me. Obviously she already knows what I’ve left in there.

My sigh is deep, with a little groan thrown in. I don’t know how to explain why I’m keeping extra clothes and shoes for me and Claire in there. Safeguards, maybe. My just in case pile. When you’ve spent your whole life protecting yourself, you don’t just turn it off like a light switch. The night doesn’t automatically give way to the day. It goes in stages. And I can’t jump all-in with Isaac. I just…can’t.

“We’re becoming roommates for the sake of our daughter, Britt. We’re not involved romantically. There is no ‘holding back.’”

But there is, and she knows it.

And how could there not be? The instinct to defend is primal, fundamental. And when you’ve been burned, the instinct only gets stronger.

Britt closes the closet and doesn’t say another word about it.



“Got it all, Aubs?” My dad stands at the end of the driveway, arms crossed.

“Yes.” I feel Britt’s look, but I keep my gaze on my dad.

“I’m gonna get going,” Dad says. “Someone spotted that lion from last weekend.” He looks unsure of what to do next. He’s ready to go on his short trip to whatever mountain range he’s been called to, but he’s hesitating. He won’t be coming home to me and Claire, and I think we’ve both realized this is an effect of the move we hadn’t considered.

“Be safe.” I pull him in for a hug, blinking back tears. “Call me when you get in.”

His neck moves with his gulp. He steps back. “Will do.” He turns to Isaac. “You take care of my girls.”

Isaac sticks out his hand. “Always, John.”

They shake, and my dad moves to my car, tapping on Claire’s partially rolled down window. He’s already said goodbye to her, so he only waves.

He gets in his truck and backs out, throwing up a hand to the three of us in the driveway. I see him swipe the back of his palm across his eyes before putting it in drive.