to speak too loud lest she disturb the tranquility.
Alex pointed to a bend in the path. “Up there. I was watching a red squirrel jumping around the branches and caught the toe of my shoe.”
The idea of somber Alex Markoff distracted by a squirrel made Kelsey giggle, earning her a questioning look. “Do you think the squirrel realized he nearly derailed the year’s biggest literary comeback?”
“Is that what Stuart’s calling it?”
“Among other things. A lot of people have been waiting for a follow-up to Chase the Moon.”
“Good old Chase the Moon.” Reaching up with his good arm, he pulled back a pine branch blocking their path. “My prize-winning albatross.”
Kelsey ducked beneath the needles. “I’m sure there are a lot of writers in the world who wouldn’t mind bearing that kind of burden.”
“They can be my guest.” Alex let go of the branch. It whipped into place with a loud thwap. “Sometimes I wish I’d never written the book. Life would be a lot easier, that’s for sure.”
The last sentence wasn’t directed at her, but to the trees. Kelsey thought of the notepads that weren’t appearing on her desk and of the dark, pain-riddled pages that had. “You don’t want to write this book, do you?”
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