“That’s it?”
Luke winced at the incredulity in her voice. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. If he did, she would see it. She’d see the lies, the pain, the truth that could put her life in danger.
Stopping an inch short of taking a long pull straight from the bottle, he grabbed a glass and filled it to the rim.
“That’s it.” He took several numbing gulps.
“She flew to Houston. You weren’t there. You didn’t call. You didn’t answer your phone. Jesus, Luke! She was worried about you. Have you even looked at your phone? We’ve all been worried about you since you stood Charlie up and then sent out the I’m-sick-stay-away texts.”
He turned. “We?”
“Yes. Mom and Dad—”
“Wait. Mom and Dad know about the Charlie incident?”
Lake rolled her eyes. “Yes. I called them after Charlie called me about the ‘incident.’”
He swirled the wine in his glass, giving it his full attention as if the answer would appear on the surface. “I would have called Charlie but my phone died.”
“And you didn’t have a charger?”
“I lost it.”
“You could have replaced it.”
“I told you I wasn’t feeling well. I just wanted to get home to hug my own toilet. I’m fine. Charlie’s fine. You’re fine. Just … I’m sorry.” He looked up again. That much was true. “I really am sorry, and I’ll call Mom and Dad then I promise I’ll call Charlie.”
“Flowers, buddy.” Lake pointed her finger at him as she narrowed her eyes. “Lots of flowers. Chocolate too. She loves chocolate and sex.”
“Lake!”
“I’m serious. I’m not a kid anymore. Girls talk about this stuff. She told me you two haven’t had sex yet. Okay … I asked, but whatever. She thinks it has something to do with Jessica. I told her that’s not it. You’re a psychiatrist for God’s sake, you’ve worked that out.”
Luke denied her eye contact again.
“You have worked that out. Right?”
He had. After keeping Charlie at a safe distance for months, he decided it was time to move on. She wasn’t Jessica, and it didn’t take a doctorate degree to figure that out, but he couldn’t stop his heart from missing its sole purpose. Luke thought if he let his mind and body move on, eventually his heart would catch up. Houston presented the perfect opportunity, someplace that felt detached from Jessica, their bed, their life. What were the chances of finding her in the very place he went to escape her?
“Jones!” Lake greeted the small horse as he plodded into the kitchen, carrying his usual security blanket. “You and that crazy sweatshirt. Why are you always carrying that thing around?”
Jones dropped the red sweatshirt at Luke’s feet.
“When I came over to let him out and feed him, he nearly bit my hand off when I tried to take it from him.”
“It was Jessica’s. Well, it was mine, but she laid claim to it.” She’d slipped it on every morning over her naked body. Luke could still see her sitting at the table with her knees tucked up in it, using the extra six inches of sleeves as hot pads to hold her mug of coffee. There were never enough stars in the sky to count how many times a day he fell in love with her.
“Aw, Jones, poor baby.” Lake stuck out her bottom lip. “Mommy’s not coming home.”
Reality gashed Luke’s heart. He wanted to bleed out right there on the floor. Anything to take away the pain of knowing the truth.
Chapter Four
Knight
The day after Thanksgiving Ryn received a call from Jackson stating that AJ had died. His voice held no emotion. It felt like a service announcement from a stranger. She cried silent tears, barely able to say goodbye before he ended the call.
Flying to Portland for the funeral would have been financially straining, and Ryn wasn’t ready to see Jackson, even if she did want to be there for Jillian. Something unexplainable steered her car to AJ’s house on Tuesday morning. She wanted to clean his place one last time. She needed to say goodbye and that was her way.
The shambled dining room took her by surprise. Wilted flowers and shards of glass lay scattered on the floor, amidst smudges of what looked like dried blood. Two place settings remained on the table, but not a crumb of food. Depositing the glass, one piece at a time into a trash bag, Ryn tried to imagine what events led to the scene before her. They weren’t going to have Thanksgiving dinner. AJ couldn’t keep food down. So why the formal setting?
“What are you doing?”
“Shit!” She jumped, sending a sliver of glass into her finger. “Dammit,” she seethed while holding her finger.
Jackson hunched down beside her. “Let me see.”
She shook him off as she stood and headed to the bathroom. “You scared me. What are you doing here?”