Chapter 17 #2
He hadn’t seen her since, which had set off plenty of alarm bells in his head. He’d hoped the guy had left town already.
Luke jogged up the steps, then pushed through the front door. The place smelled faintly of lemon-scented cleaner and the woodsmoke that lingered from the fire crackling in the hearth. He’d walked in here a million times. But tonight, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
His chest tightened as he spotted Nathan standing at the reception desk, leaning both elbows on the counter, chatting with Megan.
His fancy wool knee-length coat fit like it had been made for him.
The gray slacks and slick dress shoes probably cost more than Luke made in a week.
Sure, with his dark hair styled in a fashionable swoop, he looked cool.
Sort of approachable. But not at all trustworthy.
Megan stood on the other side of the check-in desk, her expression animated as she chatted.
Nathan’s deep voice rumbled, and she leaned in, her lips parted in a little half smile.
No. He couldn’t let this happen.
“Meg,” he called out.
Megan flinched, and her wide eyes darted toward him.
Nathan turned around, offering a tight smile. “Hey. Perfect timing.”
Um, not so much. Luke feigned an empathetic wince. “Sorry, man. We’re full.”
Nathan’s dark brows sailed upward. “Is that so? Because that’s not what your sister just said.”
Luke looked at Megan.
She shrugged. “We have space.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Nathan said, stepping away from the desk and facing Luke. “I don’t need a place to stay.”
“Oh?” Luke didn’t even try to mask his relief. “Heading back? Already?”
“Yeah. If we hurry, we can catch the red-eye out of Anchorage.”
Luke’s stomach plummeted. “We?”
Before Nathan could answer, Emma came in from the kitchen. He surveyed her face—red-rimmed eyes, blotchy cheeks. Had she been crying? Or maybe trying hard not to?
His knees threatened to give way, but he locked them. She stopped when she saw him. Something like panic flashed in her eyes before she glanced at Megan. Then Nathan.
“Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”
She nodded quickly. “I just said goodbye to your parents. They’ve been so kind, and I didn’t want to leave without thanking them. And you too, Luke. Thank you for everything you’ve done to help me.”
“Wait.” Megan’s brows scrunched together. “You’re leaving? Seriously?”
“I’m heading out.” She looked at Nathan. “We’re heading out.”
“Where are you headed to?” Luke barely forced the words through his tight throat.
Emma’s gaze slid to meet his. She blinked quickly, and her lip trembled. “Boston. I’ve made arrangements for Gavin to come and get the gold. Sorry for the inconvenience, but I’m going to need you to hold it a little longer. And then…I’ll find someone online to list the house.”
Her voice cracked on the word house, but she cleared her throat and tipped her chin up.
Luke’s heart slammed against his ribs. Blood roared behind his ears. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket so no one would see him shaking.
She was leaving. No warning. Not a word about that kiss. Just leaving. Like she had all those years ago.
Back then, he hadn’t understood the ramifications of her parents’ choices.
Not until it was too late. Like a fool, he’d charged over to her place—full of accusations, frustration, and anger.
Yeah, he’d thrown a punch at her dad and missed.
Taken a hit to the face on the edge of the dock. Now he had the scar to prove it.
It had sort of healed, but he’d never forget the memory.
And now she was leaving him again.
He forced himself to suck in a breath, air scraping down his throat. Don’t say something you’ll regret. He jammed his fists deeper into his pockets.
“That’s a hasty decision, don’t you think?”
“I have to go,” she said. “I can’t stay here.”
“Why not?”
Nathan stepped closer and slid his hand around her waist, pulling her close. “We’re going to hit the road before another storm blows in. It’s a long drive, and I don’t want to miss that flight.”
Luke glanced out the window. The skies were clear. The sun had dipped low behind the mountain, but there wasn’t a single snowflake in the forecast.
Why argue though? What was the point?
Emma dragged her gaze to meet his one last time. “You’ve been so good to me, Luke. Better than I deserved. And I’ll never forget it.”
He clenched his jaw. Say something, his mind screamed. Tell her to stay. Tell her you love her. That you’ve never stopped.
But he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
His mouth ran dry. Because if he begged her to stay and she still left, he didn’t know what he’d do.
He offered a curt nod. “Safe travels.”
Her lips parted, then she turned toward the door.
Nathan reached back, twined his fingers through hers, and led the way.
Emma hesitated just for a second on the threshold and glanced back over her shoulder, eyes glossy. “Tell your mom and dad thank you again for everything.”
He shrugged. Managed a nod. “Sure.”
And just like that, she was gone. The door clicked shut behind them.
Megan skirted the edge of the desk and came to stand next to him. She clutched his arm, her grip tight.
“Are you seriously gonna let her leave?”
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His lungs felt like they’d forgotten how to function.
She nudged him gently. “Luke, you love her. Come on, anyone with eyes can see that.”
He stared straight ahead, a crevasse of heartache cutting a jagged line through his chest. He swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat refused to budge. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because love doesn’t keep her here. It didn’t before, and it won’t now.”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head, eyes shining. “That is not fair. People change. You’ve changed.”
“Exactly,” he said. “I’ve changed. And I’m not chasing somebody who doesn’t want to choose me.”
“I think she does want to stay,” Megan said. “She’s just scared. And Nathan sweet-talked her into leaving.”
“That’s a choice.”
She shook her head, disappointment hovering in her eyes. “Well, you have a choice to stop her—and you’re not taking it.”
He looked away, out the window.
The silver Land Cruiser disappeared out of sight.
His legs itched to run. Go, go now. But he just stood there, rooted in place.
Megan let out a shaky breath. “You are going to regret this.”
Yeah. Well. He already did.
But regret was safer than hope, wasn’t it?
Safer than laying his heart on the line only to watch her stomp on it with her heel as she walked away. The last time he’d chased her, he’d ended up humiliated with a bleeding face and a shattered heart.
So why bother?
Somehow he’d figure out how to live with the ache of missing her. Again.