“You just had a longer path. A harder path. You’ll come out better for it. You’ll do them proud, Austin, if you haven’t already.”
He looked at me for a long time before giving me a slight nod and looking away. I could tell he didn’t really believe it, and my heart broke a little for him. He’d prove himself, though, of that I had no doubt. He might not trust himself because of his past, but I knew him as well as anyone, maybe better. I’d seen him lose control, I’d seen him do battle, and I’d watched him work with townspeople every day, with my people, showing them the patience of a saint. Giving them a helping hand and a place to belong. Protecting them. Protecting me. He’d walked a hard road, but he hadn’t allowed it to turn him brittle. To break him. I hadn’t seen the start of the journey, but I knew the end, and he was the best man I’d ever known.
I said as much.
He took a deep breath. “When you say things like that, I wonder what guy you’re seeing.”
“The one sitting in front of me.”
“Hard to believe.”
“Only if you’re thick, like Niamh would say.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“Yeah, but those were probably true.”
His lips curled at the ends.
“So you really did leave everything behind when you left, including your name,” I said.
“Well, not everything. I kept the money.”
I spat out laughter, his comment surprising me. “Right.”
“I wasn’t totally desolate.”
“Nothing wrong with a little nest egg. If you got stuck, you could just buy a winery.” I wiped my mouth, feeling a lot lighter than when I’d come in earlier. “We’re similar, in a way. I left everything behind, too. I’m not the girl who married Matt. He gave me a nametag when I signed into his life. It’s a nametag for a different person. I’m not an Evans anymore. When I walked away from that life, I left parts of myself behind. I shed my old skin. But I’m not a McMillian anymore either. I’ve developed—or maybe devolved—into a completely new person. Maybe I should come up with a new name, too.”
“Or maybe just stick to one name, like Adele or Cher. Or, I know, create a title for yourself. Jacinta the Merciful, Decider of Fates, Ruiner of All Things Tedious.”
I laughed. “That’s a little long. What would the sign say in front of my placemat at weddings?”
“Oh…” He waved his finger around at the house at large. “No one you know around here is ever going to get married. They’ve missed that bus.”
I frowned at him. “There is someone for everyone. Somewhere out there, there’s a grumpy woman who is impossible to please, waiting for her knight in shining armor to sweep her off her feet.” I tapped my chin. “I better give Mr. Tom some days off so he can go find her.”
Austin shook with laughter. “You just described Niamh.” He started to sing, his voice smooth and incredibly pleasing. “Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a dream…”
I widened my eyes. “Wow. You have a really good voice. Like…really good.”
His cheeks colored and he looked away, adorably embarrassed.
“Do you dance, too?” I asked, leaning forward and bracing my elbow on my knee before resting my chin on my fist.
“Maybe.”
“Oh my goodness, and the hot guy gets hotter.” I sat back and fanned my face. “What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?”
“I have a horrible temper.”
“Nah, no you don’t. A rage problem when something sets you off, sure, but you’re slow to anger. Do you play an instrument?”
“Guitar.”
I rolled my eyes. “A guitar? Jesus, Austin, you’re a cliché. What else? Fast car?”
“The Jeep isn’t very fast.”
“Yes, true. Strike against you.”
“The Bugatti isn’t so bad, though.”
“That’s a shame… Wait. A Bugatti?” I cocked my head. “Do you really have a Bugatti?”
He laughed and wiped his hand across his face. “I did. Left it behind. I came here on four paws. I got the Jeep here in town. I do miss going recklessly fast, though.”
“Damarion bought a Lexus when he was here,” I said. “He went recklessly fast. I didn’t love it.”
“First, recklessly fast in the right hands isn’t scary, it is exhilarating. I would make you squeal in delight. Second, do not mention that man’s name when it relates to you and dating or intimacy.”
I froze, my mouth open to speak, but a rush of excitement flooded my body, and the words drifted away. He’d said the first in a playful, teasing way. His tone had changed at the end, shifting into something rough and intense and possessive, as though the aforementioned rage was bubbling to the surface, beyond his control.
Something dangerous kindled within his stare, trapping me to my seat, holding me there. I could barely breathe as fire moved through my veins, coiling within me, aching down low. My heart raced as the memory of his touch, of his lips whispering across my skin.