Make It Sweet

Now, he simply let his gaze skim over me, impersonal, withdrawn. “Emma.”

“Lucian.” It came out so stilted that I cringed inside. But I kept my expression neutral. Polite, even. And it sucked.

We exchanged the most awkward of nods, and he left, taking all the life out of the room. This was why I had to go. And this was why he had been right; it would have been worse if we’d gone further. I should thank him for that.

But I still couldn’t bring myself to. Not yet.

Amalie waited a minute, perhaps to be sure Lucian was well out of hearing, before turning my way. I braced for her questions, but she simply sipped her coffee. “So then, what are your plans for the day?”

I sagged into the corner of the couch. “I’ve rented a car to drive into LA.”

Her perfectly penciled black brows arched. “All the way to LA?”

“Yes. I need to start house hunting. I thought I’d take a look at some of the properties. Maybe spend the weekend there.” I would rather check into a hotel for a few nights than know Lucian was nearby.

“Hmm.” She sipped her coffee.

Oh, she was onto me. I refused to fidget.

“The sooner I’m settled into a new place, the sooner I can get out of your hair.”

Amalie set her cup down with a gentle click. “My dear, you are not ‘in my hair,’ but one should never hide away from the important things in life. Getting your house in order is a wonderful idea.”

It was a clear sign that I was a mess that I found myself oddly disappointed by her quick agreement. Disappointed and uncomfortable. She hadn’t missed how awkward Lucian and I were in each other’s presence. It was awful to think she might have thought I hurt him and wanted me to get as far away from her grandson as possible.

I stood on legs that weren’t as steady as I’d like. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

On impulse, I leaned down and kissed her soft cheek, which smelled of Chanel N°5. “Thank you for everything, Amalie.”

She petted my arm. “Ah, my dear girl, thank you for coming here. Do what you must. And we’ll see you soon.”

I made it all the way to the doors that led to the terrace, when her next words stopped me. “Just remember, it doesn’t matter how far you go; you’ll always be where your heart is.”

The words hit like darts, and I closed my eyes briefly, my back to her. My heart was in my chest. Right where it belonged, damn it. I would repeat that until I believed it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Lucian

“You’ve stopped blinking,” Brommy said, cutting into my thoughts. “And it’s creepy.”

We sat on loungers, drinking beers by the pool as the sun set. At some point, I’d stopped listening to Brommy’s rambling conversation and, apparently, stopped blinking.

I turned my gaze from the water and cut him a glare. “Yeah, well, it’s creepy that you’ve been looking at me long enough to tell.”

He snorted, then took a pull of his beer. “Dude, I’ve been talking for ten minutes without a real response from you. At one point, I even asked if you preferred waxing to shaving.”

I paused in the act of taking a drink. “Did I answer?”

“You grunted.” He huffed and set his beer down on the flagstones. “What’s up, Ozzy? You’re in a worse mood than ever. No, scratch that. You’re in a void. A weird-ass void, and it’s freaking me out.”

It was the real worry he tried and failed to hide that had me answering instead of grunting again. “I’m just off today.”

Off. That was a nice way of putting it. Off. Not decimated.

Seeing Emma this morning had cut me to the quick. I’d thought I could handle it. That I’d be able to face her with the same detachment with which I faced most of my life now. What a joke.

I’d taken one look at her, and all the breath had left my lungs. I’d gone totally blank, not knowing what to say or do. She’d sat on that couch, every inch of her so unearthly beautiful it hurt to look at her, every inch of her remote and blocked off. Gone was the cheeky smile in those dark-blue eyes. Gone was any sense of familiarity. It felt like I’d lost a limb.

And I knew that I’d miscalculated. Badly.

I hadn’t saved myself from potential heartbreak. I was already gone on this woman.

“She didn’t eat my breakfast.”

“What?” Brommy wrinkled his brow in confusion.

Shit. I’d said that out loud. I rubbed the aching spot in the center of my chest. I knew my heart was there. I could feel each pained beat. But it still felt cold and empty.

“Emma,” I ground out. Hell, even saying her name hurt. “She refused breakfast.”

Brommy sat a little straighter. “You’re making the breakfasts here?”