Sexy Stranger(56)
I shook my head, remembering the bone-chilling calm I'd felt that day.
"If I could have called it off before that moment-if I could have realized what kind of mistake I was making-I would never have left him that way. It was an awful thing to do. But I didn't realize until then, and I can't feel bad for not waltzing into a marriage that I didn't want. I couldn't bear to think of living my whole life without ever feeling . . . well, without ever feeling the way I feel about you."
Silence hung between us and I waited for Luke to say something, anything. But he didn't. He just stared at me, studying me with an inscrutable expression.
"I didn't want to love you, you know," I told him. "It doesn't make any sense to spend one week with someone and fall so deeply in love that you can't go on with your life the way you'd planned, but when I got to the city, all I could think about was you. I didn't want to go to parties with strangers. I wanted to sit around a picnic table with your family and drink whiskey and just . . . live. Have family dinners. Lie in your bed all night just talking to you."
I chewed hard on my bottom lip. "I came here to tell you that. It felt like something you should know, but I don't need you to ask me to stay. Because no matter what you do, I'm staying here. I wasn't going to. If you didn't want me, I was going to turn tail and leave. But you know what? I love it here. And I love you. If you want me to leave, you're going to have to call the sheriff to get me out, you understand?"
Those cool green eyes of his drifted over me again, and he tipped his head in a single nod. "What if you change your mind like you did about Prescott? What if you wake up one day and realize that this wasn't what you really wanted?"
It was a fair question, but damn, did it cut deep.
I took his hand in mine and held it tightly, trying my best not to burst into tears. "Because this is the first time in my life I ever knew anything for sure. I know it down to the bottom of my soul, and that's not going to change. There are no guarantees in life; you know that. You could decide tomorrow that I'm not the one for you too. But guess what? I know that this . . . what we have? It's worth the risk. Take the leap with me, Luke. I won't let you down."
He was quiet for so long, I thought it was over. I'd lost. But then his hand tightened on mine and he pulled me onto his lap with a groan.
"Every day since you left," he said, "I've felt like an idiot. I think about you all the time-I'm surrounded by your ideas and your brilliance. You saved my family and the distillery, and . . . me. I need you to stay with me. I'm begging you to stay, because I love you. I was wrong to react the way I did, and I'm sorry, baby. If you ever need to run again, just promise this time that you'll take me with you."
I blinked hard, and he kissed the tear now sliding down my cheek. His mouth moved lower as he took my bottom lip between his, sucking on the tender skin. My tongue swept out to meet his as I trembled with joy and relief.
It was okay. We were going to be okay.
It might have been an instant or an hour before he broke our kiss, but when he did, I cleared my throat and grinned.
"I have some more good news for you too," I said.
"I've already got the best news in the world." He kissed my forehead. "You're here."
"Fine, then I won't tell you," I teased, and he gave me a little shake. "Okay, okay. You have two new investors for the distillery."
"I do?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Prescott wants in."
Luke looked conflicted about that for a moment. "And the other?"
"I sold my car. It's not much, but I do have a little money to play with. I was hoping I could come on as part of the team?"
"You want to invest in the distillery," he said slowly, as if he couldn't believe it.
"Of course I do. I believe in you."
Luke swept me up into another heart-stopping kiss. "Dammit, I love you," he whispered as he cupped my cheek. "Don't ever leave me again, duchess."
"I never, ever will."
Epilogue
Charlotte
Six months later
It didn't take me long to get my big fancy car back.
It wasn't a brand-new model, hadn't even been made in the last five years, but it was mine. And even better?
This time, I had earned it.
Today, it was dolled up with Just Married in white paint on the back window, and streamers and cans tied to the bumper.
From a window in the back room of the barn we'd been dressing in, I looked out at it as I smiled to myself, knowing what my parents would think when they finally arrived. But then again, I was getting better about not caring when my mom did her best to wrinkle her Botoxed face, or when my father tried to slide me a credit card I didn't need.