Nick stepped out of the car chauffeured by Mr. Harleson onto the high street with a hope and a prayer and not much else, but it would be enough. It had to be. He passed the shops that closed promptly at five o’clock and headed toward the Fox. She’d be there. If she wasn’t, he’d find her.
The door to the Fox opened easily, but walking through it proved harder. The place was jam-packed full of people here to celebrate another movie coming to town. The earl had told him about it during the drive into Bowhaven from the airport. Seemed Dallinger Park was going to be the next Downton Abbey. One of the crew on the zombie movie had a friend scouting for the perfect location for a prestige historical drama slated for a six-season run, and they wanted to shoot the entire thing on location in Bowhaven.
He finally spotted Brooke at the other end of the bar, Daisy and Riley standing on either side of her like bookends. Neither of them gave him friendly looks as he approached. That was okay. He wasn’t here for them.
Brooke barely glanced up at him before focusing her attention back on the pint glass of ale in front of her, and off to the side a stack of papers with election application written across the top. “I thought you were back in America.”
Okay, not the greeting he was hoping for but definitely the one he deserved. “I was supposed to, but I couldn’t leave.”
The pint glass stopped halfway to her mouth, and she set it back down without looking at him. “Why not?” Now she did turn and give him an arctic blast from those blue eyes of hers. “There’s nothing here for you.”
Ouch. That hit like a sledgehammer to the pinkie toe. But he wasn’t going down without a fight. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out the dog collar that had been squashed in there for the entire drive back to Bowhaven and slammed it down on the bar in front of Brooke. It wasn’t just the woman he loved looking at the length of red and white nylon outfitted with a mini sensor and mini speakers. Everyone crowded into the pub was watching like this was the reality show they hadn’t realized they’d been waiting their whole lives to see. If being the center of the village’s attention bothered Brooke, she didn’t show it. That was his girl. Gutsy and determined right down to the end.
She crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze to a fine glare. “What is that?”
“The voice-activated dog collar.”
Both blond eyebrows went up in question. “Is someone in this pub a dog?”
He nodded. “I am.”
“Finally,” she said, her lips curling into a less-than-friendly smile. “We agree on something.”
Ouch again, except this time the sledgehammer had moved north and grazed his balls. The woman had a helluva game when it came to aiming a verbal punch. Still, he hadn’t come this far to tuck tail and run now—never again.
“Do you know how long I’ve been working on this collar?” He fingered the material, knowing without looking where every twist and turn was. “I’ve spent years trying to figure out how to make it so that if Fido got anxious or sad because his owner was gone, he would be reassured by the sound of the owner’s voice that it was going to be okay. That they’d be home.”
“And of course your clever mind finally figured out the solution,” she interrupted, her voice not as steady as it had been before. The tremble was faint, but it was there. “That’s brilliant. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
“No, I didn’t figure it out.” He released the collar and took another step closer to her until he could feel the heat from her body and smell the flowery scent of her shampoo. All at once, his heartbeat steadied and the world came into focus. And at the center? Brooke. Always Brooke. “I tried everything I could think of, but I couldn’t get it to work. Every time the dog heard the owner’s voice, it just made the whole thing worse because the dog knew the person it loved most of all wasn’t there.”
“And the fact that a creature would feel like that was a revelation to you?” She let out an angry, hurt chuckle but didn’t move out of his reach.
Unable to stop himself, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting his fingertips linger. Her answering shiver of anticipation gave him the strength to continue.
“It was once I realized just how it felt to know that the one person I loved most in the world was out there—somewhere—but I couldn’t see her smile or feel the silk of her hair as it slid through my fingertips.”
She blinked once, twice, three times, flexing her jaw the whole time, before saying in a soft voice, “Well, congratulations on cracking the case. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
But she didn’t make a move to go.
“I’m staying.”
“How fabulous for you,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I’m sure the earl will be relieved.”
“I don’t give two shits about how he feels about the situation,” he said, the words coming out in a rush. “Wait. That’s not true. I do care, but he’s not why I’m staying, and neither is Bowhaven or the title. I’m staying because of you.” He paused at her quick intake of breath and the flicker of hope in her eyes. This was it. This was when it counted. He could turn and run now and never look back or he could stay, pledge himself to this woman and stop running, forever. As if he had a choice. His fate had been decided the day Lady Lemons had demanded he make an appearance at Dallinger Park. “I don’t want to be that dog constantly searching for the person it loves most when I know exactly where you are. So I’m staying. I’m putting it all on the line in front of God and everyone to tell you that I need you. I love you. I can’t imagine spending the next moment, let alone the rest of my life, away from you. The six-month split I agreed to, it won’t work because six minutes away from you is too long. I’ll be here even if you don’t love me back just so I can be near you, because there’s no place in the world I’d rather be than anywhere you are.”
“And what if I leave?” she asked, her voice so soft, he could barely hear it over the breath everyone in the pub was holding.
God, he didn’t want to do this. All those self-preserving reflexes told him to cut and run. But he couldn’t. Being with Brooke was more important than his ego, or his zip code, or anything short of breathing—and even that was up for debate.
He didn’t have to think about it. “I’d follow.”
“And driving on the wrong side of the road?” Her voice shook ever so slightly, but that stubborn Lady Lemons chin tilt of hers was in full effect.
“I’ll learn.” How hard could roundabouts be?