“Well, you don’t need to worry about it now because I’m here so if he shows up, he and I can have a little conversation. And talking of conversations, it’s your turn to tell me what you’re doing here.” He leaned against the counter, his broad shoulders dominating the narrow kitchen area. “What are you doing back in Paris when I know how much you love Snow Crystal? I know how much you love your job.”
“I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago. I was a coward. I avoided coming back here because the place was full of bad memories.”
“So put the apartment up for sale and then get yourself back to Snow Crystal. Winter is coming. Everyone is planning how to make the best of this season. You’re an essential part of the team.”
Something twisted inside her but she shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Fine. So don’t sell it. Rent it.”
“It isn’t this place. I will sell it. I have someone coming around tomorrow to do a valuation. But I won’t be coming back to Snow Crystal. I’ll find somewhere else. Maybe not Paris. Maybe Bordeaux.”
“Why? Because I told you I loved you and scared the hell out of you? That was a mistake.” His voice was soft. “If I promise never to say it again, will you come back?”
“You think it was a mistake?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Big mistake.”
It was ridiculous to feel disappointed about something that she didn’t want, anyway. It made no sense.
None of her feelings made any sense.
“You’re right. We should go out.” She grabbed her purse and her keys and ushered Sean out the door. “Tell me how everyone is. How is Walter? Is he using his new machine to cut logs? And Alice? How’s her knitting coming along? Are Elizabeth and Poppy coping well in the kitchen?”
“I have no idea. You know I leave the running of Snow Crystal to my brother. You’ll have to ask him when you see him.”
She ignored that. “How did you know I had left?”
“Jackson came to the hospital ready to punch me. For the record, that’s the first time I’ve seen my brother spoiling for a fight. Normally he’s the one breaking them up.” They reached the street and Sean caught her arm as a moped sped past, almost mowing her down.
She felt the strength of his fingers on her skin, breathed in the male scent and the desire to kiss him was almost overwhelming. Almost.
She pulled away. “He punched you? Jackson would never do that.”
“No. But it was a close thing. That’s how much he cares about you. He creased my shirt.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “I told him it wasn’t your fault.”
“He didn’t believe you. If I come back without you my life won’t be worth living.”
It was a perfect late-summer evening and they ate in the little brasserie, sitting elbow to elbow with tourists and locals and drinking house wine and simple food. Then they walked along the river, watching the sun set over the Louvre.
Sean told her about his work at the hospital, about his research and then made her laugh with stories of Tyler’s neck-breaking exploits growing up.
The only thing they didn’t talk about was the fact he’d told her he loved her.
“Where are you staying tonight?”
“I’ve booked a hotel down the street. I wasn’t sure you’d feel like company.” He took the key from her and let them both into her apartment, watching her face as she paused by the door. “Bad memories?”
“Mostly guilt. I hate that my last words to my mother were angry and that she died without knowing how much I loved her. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Shaking it off, she walked to the little kitchen area. “Coffee?”
“Thanks.” He sprawled on the sofa, next to the boxes of photos she’d stacked earlier. “I know you don’t want to look at the photos, but do you mind if I look?”
“Go ahead.” Maybe she should have thrown them away. What was the point in keeping something that just made her feel worse?
She made coffee and placed a mug on the little table in front of him. “I miss my coffee machine.”
“We all miss you making coffee with your coffee machine. Élise, you should look at these.”