Chapter 3 #2
And that massive engagement ring was tough to ignore.
He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as they pulled onto the highway, then stole another glance at her.
She was trying too hard to look unbothered, staring out the window as if this was just another trip from the airport.
As if Redemption wasn’t the place that had built her.
“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “What have you been up to?”
Oy. That sounded pathetic.
Emma shifted in her seat, then smoothed her palms over her dark-wash jeans.
“After I left here, Mom and I lived with an elderly aunt in Connecticut. Then my mom’s new husband paid for me to go to college.
I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I majored in communications, then got a personal-trainer certification, and now I work at a club in Boston. ”
“A club? Like a gym?”
She gave a laugh, but it didn’t quite sound like the Emma he remembered. “Not just any gym. It’s a high-end fitness club, members only, lots of CEOs and Boston socialites.”
“Wow, sounds fancy.”
A pause stretched between them, just long enough for discomfort to creep in.
“I came back once, you know,” she said softly. “Ten years ago. For Abbie’s wedding.”
His chest pinched. “I didn’t know that.”
“You weren’t there.”
“No.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I didn’t move back until after the fire at the resort. My dad got hurt. We needed someone to run the place.”
She turned toward him, concern flickering in her expression. “Wait—hurt? Is he okay?”
He hesitated. “He’s…partially paralyzed. Uses a wheelchair now.”
Emma gasped. “Oh, Luke. I—I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
He nodded, staring straight ahead. “Yeah. It was rough. Changed everything.”
“And you’ve been here ever since?”
“Yep. This is home.”
For now.
Thoughts of the fire burning down the cabin and the wheelbarrows full of mud they’d shoveled out of every nook and cranny since the tidal wave hit spooled through his head. He wasn’t about to mention the job opportunity in Petersburg. Not to her, and not to anyone.
A few minutes later, he drove up the hill and parked in front of an elegant Queen Anne–style two-story home.
“You’ve picked an awesome place to stay. Lainey’s done a fantastic job turning this historical home into a bed and breakfast. Thankfully the damage from the tidal wave didn’t impact the property up here.”
“Looks beautiful,” Emma said, then got out.
Luke climbed out of the vehicle, then pulled her suitcase out and set it on the ground. “I’ll carry this up to the porch for you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m—”
Before she could reach the top, the front door creaked open and an older woman stepped out, holding a spray bottle and a rag.
“Well, well,” the woman said. “Look who decided to show her face.”
Emma froze. “Mrs. O’Brien?”
“Thought Redemption had standards about who we let back in.” Mrs. O’Brien’s piercing gray eyes narrowed. “Guess I was wrong.”
Luke gave a small, strained laugh. “Easy, Mrs. O. Long day.”
Mrs. O’Brien sniffed and stepped aside, jerking her thumb toward the door. “Lainey’s not here, so she asked me to show you to your room. First door on the left at the top of the stairs. Evidently she thinks you’re worthy of the turret.”
Wow. Alrighty then.
As Mrs. O’Brien marched back inside, Luke leaned toward Emma. “She’s…a little rough around the edges. Things are hard right now. A lot of folks are still reeling from the tidal wave.”
Emma’s gaze lingered on the open door. “Guess I’m not the only one carrying baggage.”
“Nope,” he said, managing a soft smile. “But Mrs. O’s got a kind heart under all that bark. Somewhere.”
She nodded, shoulders tight, lips pressed into a thin line.
Luke took the suitcase up the last step and set it beside the door. “You’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
He hesitated, then turned to go, but paused again. “Emma.”
She looked up, eyes guarded.
“If you need anything…you know where to find me.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Luke waited until she disappeared inside, the door shutting quietly behind her, before heading back to his Suburban. He exhaled hard and stared at the empty passenger seat.
The drive back to the resort was short, but his thoughts raced the whole way. By the time he pulled in, his head was a mess of old memories and what-ifs.
He parked, then tipped his head back and closed his eyes. A flash of curly hair burnished a coppery red by the sun, that yellow T-shirt, her laughter on the deck of her dad’s boat. It all came back too fast, too vivid. She’d caught his attention, and he’d been a goner.
A knock on the window jolted him back to reality. He opened his eyes.
Ethan stood there, his gray knit beanie pulled low. “You alive in there?”
Luke pushed open the door and climbed out. “Yeah.”
“Did you take those guys to the airport or just toss ’em off the end of the dock?”
“Dropped them at the airport.” Luke’s tone was flat. “Then ran into Emma Carlisle.”
Ethan rubbed his fingertips along his jaw. “Emma Carlisle? Isn’t she Caroline’s friend? The one who—”
Shaking his head, Luke pocketed his keys and headed for the door. “Let’s not go there.”
Ethan followed him. “I thought she was getting married in Massachusetts or something.”
Luke’s steps faltered on the porch. “She is. Caroline’s a bridesmaid.”
“I’m guessing you’re not thrilled about this?”
Luke refused to turn around. “Not even a little bit.”
“Ouch. Sorry to hear that, man.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Luke ground out the words, then went inside. He’d help Emma if she asked. But he wasn’t the kind of guy who flirted with someone else’s fiancée, and he certainly wasn’t a cheater.
He scanned the empty leather couches in front of the stone hearth.
Since he’d booted all of their guests, he’d have to figure out a plan B to pay the bills.
On top of taking care of the ongoing repairs.
He dragged his hand down his face. Maybe he’d overreacted.
About the skiers’ behavior and Emma’s arrival.
She’d said she was only here to put the house on the market. It wasn’t like they’d spend a ton of time together. Then she’d go back to Boston and her fiancé, and he’d find a way to forget her. Again.