Chapter 2
2
LUKE
A lly Landis was lying. I’d figured that out within seconds of popping her hood. The battery cable was disconnected—something that didn’t just happen while you were driving around.
So I’d done some snooping. The paperwork in her glove compartment gave me her last name. It also told me her car was registered in Nashville.
One thing was clear. This was no coincidence. Someone from Nashville had tracked me down. My cover was about to be blown.
Larry wasn’t at the back door to greet me when I entered the kitchen. Great. He’d abandoned me to hang out with the beautiful woman. I couldn’t blame him, but he was still a traitor.
Sure enough, as I entered the living room, Larry was at my guest’s feet. She sat on my sofa, holding the bottled water and trying not to get too comfortable. That was how it looked to me, anyway.
“Did you fix it?” she asked.
She was the enemy. Maybe she was an overzealous fan, but I doubted it. My money was on the record label having sent her. Or maybe she worked for one of those online “news” sites. Hell, she could be a podcaster. These days, anyone with a microphone could become a private eye.
“Couldn’t get it to start.” I shook my head. “But I’m no mechanic. There’s a shop in town, but I’m guessing it’s closed until morning.”
I watched carefully for her reaction. What was her plan, exactly? Gather information? Take it back to... whomever? And why couldn’t I see her as the enemy?
“You’re staying at the retreat center alone?” I asked as I crossed the room and plopped down in my recliner.
“Yes.” She nodded. “I needed a getaway.”
Bullshit. I should call out the lie, maybe demand to know why she was really here. Better yet, I could just offer to drive her to the retreat center. Or I could tell her I knew nothing was wrong with her car.
But I didn’t do that. Why? Because this stunning woman had stirred something inside me. Something I hadn’t felt since my first single took off and women started throwing themselves at me. When was the last time I’d wanted a woman— really wanted one?
I couldn’t remember ever feeling this. The pull toward her was disturbing, it was so strong.
“And you chose Rosewood Ridge because…” I let my voice trail off there, waiting for her to fill in the blank.
Part of me wanted to be furious that she was deceiving me, but the other part wanted to cross the room, plop down next to her on the couch, and give her the kiss of her life. Those two parts of me were currently at war.
“It’s the mountains,” Ally said. “I can’t think of a more beautiful place to get away. I heard the retreat center was offering discounts to new guests to help get the word out, and here I am.” She uncapped her water and took a sip, looking around the room. “This is a nice place you have.”
It was a rental, but I was thinking about buying it. What started out as a temporary hideout for me and Larry had become home.
“Thanks,” I said. “We like it.” I glanced down at the dog I’d rescued from the shelter a few months before the shit hit the fan. “We have everything we need.”
“So, do you work on one of the construction crews around here?” she asked.
This was where she’d start digging. She was trying to get information on what my cover story was.
The truth was, I didn’t have a cover story. Aside from my weekly trips to town for supplies, groceries, and other items, I spoke to no one. I stayed up here—a true recluse. I spoke as little as possible, even rejecting employees’ attempts to be polite, staying quiet and hidden behind this beard.
“Retired,” I said.
I should add something to that. Maybe I was former military or one of those people who got great stock options while working at a tech company and retired at a young age.
But I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her, and that was even more disturbing. Lying was exactly what I was supposed to do. That was part of being in hiding.
“I got tired of the rat race,” was all I said.
That couldn’t be truer. I had a great career, but it was exhausting, and I hadn’t even realized how miserable I was until I moved up here and shut down all the noise.
I guess I had my ex-girlfriend to thank for that. She lied about me to the press, making up a bunch of crap after I dumped her, and then women started coming out of the woodwork to add to her claims.
I was guilty of being an asshole who couldn’t commit to spending the rest of my life with one woman. But that didn’t make me emotionally abusive. Apparently, these days everything counted as abuse, including not returning somebody’s phone call for a few days because you simply couldn’t bring yourself to let her down easily.
And now I’d been officially canceled. My career was over. My agent dropped me, and the record label wanted me to sign some document releasing me from their contract.
They could all go fuck themselves.
“So, what is it you do for a living?” I asked.
Anything to take my mind off my troubles. If I thought long enough, she’d start to see my expression change to one of sadness at losing everything I’d worked so hard to build. All of it had been gone in just one news cycle.
“Candles,” she said.
As she said the word, she was looking off to the right. That was where two fake taper candles sat on my fireplace mantel.
I frowned. “What about them?”
“I make candles.”
She shifted on the couch, and I wondered if she was uncomfortable with her lie. Or maybe she was too comfortable with it, and she felt guilty.
“Is there a lot of money in that?” I asked.
She shrugged. “It pays the bills.”
She had no problem lying to me, and that hurt. It was like a stab in the gut.
I wasn’t used to being on this side of things. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time an attractive woman who didn’t know who I was hurt me.
But this woman knew who I was, and I couldn’t let myself forget that. She didn’t seem to be the least bit starstruck. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d heard my music, and if so, what did she think?
Why did her approval mean more than it should have? Especially since she was very clearly deceiving me.
“I could drive you back to the retreat center right now,” I said. “If you want to go, that is.”
My mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. I never intended to invite her into my house. I wasn’t even sure why she was sitting here on my sofa, sipping from a bottle of water from my fridge.
All I knew was that I didn’t want her to walk out of my life. I wanted to spend time with her until I understood how she’d somehow penetrated the steel wall I’d built around my heart.
I wanted to see what might happen next.
“Or I could just spend the night here,” she said, tilting her head slightly and giving me a seductive smile. “In your bed.”