* * * *
That night, right before I drifted off, a soft, low, beautiful voice whispered in my ear, “I don’t think I want to be a chief after all. I like being the leader of the chief’s helpers too much.”
Then I felt Vic’s kiss on my neck, and heard his nearly inaudible, “Night, Chief.” 11
The next morning Vic and I got up slowly and had breakfast, and then he went upstairs, where he still had a room, coming down with his luggage and what I thought of as bad news.
“I’ve got to go back to the city for a while.” He cleared his throat and looked away. “I have to close up my condo and put it on the market. Get my stuff together and move here. Be ready to start my new job.”
He peeked up at me, almost shyly. “Miss me?”
I sighed and nodded. Was he kidding, or was he really so clueless?
“When will you be back?”
He laughed.
“Next week sometime.” He ran his finger down my cheek. “You’ve got a little housekeeping to do, right?”
“I do?”