Say You're Mine (The Gallaghers Book 1) by Layla Hagen (digital ebook reader .txt) 📗

not to just jot things down, but imagine yourself already doing them. It will put you in a good mood.”

“Okay. I hope I don’t forget.”

The concern etched on her face prompted me to ask, “Would you like me to send you a message each morning, reminding you?”

“Oh, you can do that? I hate to ask that of you, but maybe for a few days until it becomes second nature. Thank you!”

“No problem. It’s on my calendar.”

“I’m so happy I found you, Isabelle. You help me focus on myself, you know? Most of the time, I worry about how this impacts the kids, and I don’t pay attention to my feelings. I bottle everything up, and whenever I see my ex, I explode in a rant.”

“All this is normal, Lilly. Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s painful, and you’re doing the best you can. Give yourself time. Be kind to yourself.”

By the end of the session, Lilly was in a slightly more optimistic mindset. I knew she still had a long way to go until she would feel happy more often than desperately sad. Each client was different. Some didn’t need my help after only a few sessions, though many continued their therapy for years. I had three online sessions a week with clients I’d started seeing years ago in Philadelphia. Nothing gave me more satisfaction than when one of them said they didn’t need any more sessions. It meant I’d done my job and they were in a happier place now than when they’d sought me out.

Glancing at the clock, I realized Lilly and I had gone over time and my next session was about to begin. I quickly glanced out the window. There were still no reporters outside. I messaged the clients I had in the afternoon, asking them if they preferred to come to the office for their appointment. Four out of five said they wanted to come in.

This was going to be a long day, one that would be difficult to emotionally unwind from. I used to have tours on Monday evenings; they were the easiest way I could put everything my clients shared out of my mind. They were fun, and I loved meeting new people. I already missed them.

But as I always told my clients, it was all a matter of perspective. I just needed to find something else that gave me that rush and captivated me completely.

Brayden.

In the few minutes I had between sessions, I checked my phone. The new message from Josie made me laugh.

Josie: TELL ME. I can’t take the suspense any longer.

I also had one from Brayden.

Brayden: How is your day going? Still tired from the flight?

I loved that he checked in on me.

A third message popped up. My next client said she was going to be a few minutes late. I replied to Josie first.

Isabelle: It was amazing in Oregon. And it made me like Brayden even more.

Brayden: I like what I’m reading. Tell me more.

I frowned, wondering what he meant.

Oh no. I accidentally sent the last message to Brayden instead of Josie.

Isabelle: That was meant for my sister.

Brayden: I want to know too.

Smiling, I tapped my fingers on the phone, deciding on the best way to tease him.

Isabelle: And you think I’ll just volunteer the information? No, sir. You have to work for it.

Brayden: Oh, I will.

Yum... In my mind, I read it in his delicious voice.

Licking my lips, I shook my head. This was work time. I couldn’t let thoughts of this sexy man distract me.

I replied to my sister, giving her a rundown of the weekend, making sure I actually sent it to her this time.

Brayden: When are your sessions over today?

Isabelle: Probably not until nine.

Brayden: You can always come to my place and do the last ones there.

Isabelle: I moved the ones in the afternoon to the office : - (

I smiled, imagining myself on that huge couch of his. He’d give me foot rubs or neck massages between sessions. Some smoking-hot kisses too, for sure. My shoulders instantly relaxed.

Now that he was mentioning it, I was kind of sorry I’d moved the sessions, but doing so did give me a sense of normal again too. Once Brayden started the tour, my life was going to go back to the way it was.

My chest tightened a bit, and for the first time I admitted to myself that I didn’t want this to end when he left. Could we make it work somehow?

Did he even want to?

Isabelle: Putting my phone away. My next session is starting.

***

Over the next three hours, I had back-to-back sessions with only a short break for a trip to the bathroom. Usually no one texted me during work hours... but that was before I started dating Brayden, who seemed intent on distracting me. But his flirty messages were a welcome change from the problems my clients were unloading, so I didn’t discourage him. Quite the contrary.

Brayden: When do you take a longer break? I want to call you.

Isabelle: Why? Want to take your flirting to the next level?

Brayden: I love talking to you. Always makes my day.

Isabelle: I didn’t schedule a session during my lunchbreak from 12 to 1. You can call me then.  

At fifteen past eleven, I ordered a Caesar salad through a delivery app. As twelve o’clock approached, excitement bubbled up inside me, anticipating my conversation with Brayden. Not just excitement though; I was pretty sure I was feeling butterflies in my stomach, and all because I was going to hear his voice!

This morning I’d thought about having my lunch break outside, because I could swear the air was a little less humid, but I preferred to be inside when I spoke with him. Besides, I was probably imagining the good weather. It was September 1, but that didn’t mean the humidity suddenly dropped.

This weekend had brought us closer in ways I couldn’t have imagined, and I was positively giddy at