Pretend You're Mine(116)
Lola sighed and Max put his front paws on her leg and yipped.
Harper did her best to swallow the lump in her throat.
He watched her with the dogs from the doorway and his stomach twisted. He was throwing her out, ending things. While he was taking back his life, she was still worried about taking care of him.
He wasn’t good for her and she had to learn that.
Harper Wilde had to learn to take care of herself. He swiped a hand over his face. God, who was going to be there to keep her safe, to remind her to charge her phone or get gas or lock the doors at night?
She was a smart, sweet, beautiful girl. She wouldn’t be alone for long.
For just a second, he let himself think about her with another man. His hands fisted at his sides. She would be loved. She would be taken care of. It was what she deserved.
Harper glanced up from her packing, and noticing him in the doorway, she swiped away the tears. She didn’t make eye contact, just zipped her bag closed and slung it over her shoulder.
She gave the dogs a last scratch. He saw the tremble in her jaw and watched with admiration as she pulled it back in, tamped it down. His free-spirited girl had a spine of steel.
“Here,” he said, holding out her phone. “I didn’t want you to forget it.”
Wordlessly, she took it and slid it in her back pocket. She still hadn’t raised her gaze to meet his. He was almost grateful. Looking into those storm cloud gray eyes might undo him.
“I want you to take this, too.” He held out a roll of cash.
She ignored him and pushed past him into the hallway. He followed her down the stairs. “Harper, take the money. I don’t want to worry about you sleeping in your car or —”
She rounded on him at the foot of the stairs. Their eyes met, and in that second, he realized for the first time that he had no idea what was going on in her head. She had shut it down, cut him off.
It cut him to the quick.
But this was the right thing to do. He chanted it in his head. Just get through it. Like ripping off a bandage. A little pain now instead of the years of suffering he would cause her by not being the man she deserved.
“Please. Take it.” He tried to tuck it into her hand, but she let the bills fall to the floor.
“I’m no longer your concern,” she said flatly. She looked him in the eye, into his very heart, and turned and walked out the front door, closing it softly behind her.
Luke watched her toss her bag in her backseat and climb behind the wheel. She never looked back at the house. Just backed out and drove away.
He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, expecting to feel relief. But there was only a gnawing emptiness.
Where was she going to go?
Why hadn’t he waited until morning? He could have helped her find a place, taken her somewhere. Now, thanks to him she was roaming around at night.
He stood up and started pacing.
Everything that his gaze rested on was connected to her. The furniture. The glossy magazines and paperbacks under the coffee table. The raspberry pink fleece hanging next to the front door. Had she even taken a coat with her?
He pulled the fleece off the hook and brought it to his face. It smelled like her. Sunshine and lemons.
He didn’t feel relief. He felt sick.
Maybe he should pack her things for her. So every damn thing in his house didn’t remind him of her.
***
Luke woke up on the couch to the early gray dawn. Both dogs were snuggled against him. He was still clutching Harper’s fleece to his chest.
He had finally dozed off barely two hours earlier after carefully packing her things into the boxes neatly stacked in the dining room. Each one labeled “Harper” and a description of the contents in permanent marker.
After months here, she still hadn’t managed to accumulate more than a dozen boxes of things. He would give her the furniture when she settled wherever she was going, and most of the kitchen stuff that had appeared in drawers and cabinets while she was here.
He glanced down at the coffee table and saw the picture. Harper and her parents. She had left it behind, tucked in a box in the closet. He’d keep it safe for her until she was somewhere she could call home.
Luke rubbed a hand across his chest. The hollow was still there. His life was once again his own. He was free to focus on his plan. His goal. Didn’t have to worry about anyone else.
So why did he feel like he was suffocating?
He went into the kitchen to grab some coffee, but the pot was empty.
The quiet was too much. He whistled for the dogs and let them out the back door.
The ache would go away, he told himself as he watched Max chase Lola around the garden that hadn’t been there when he left.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
He arrived at the office early enough that no one else was there. His gaze immediately scanned to Harper’s desk. When had that happened? How was that the first place he looked every time he came up the stairs?