Sweet Hill Temptation(16)

“You told the truth. There’s nothing wrong with that. And you didn’t wreck a thing. If Luke Jacobs can’t handle the fact that he’s lucky enough for a woman like you to love him, then he’s dumber than that grandfather of his.”

Annie hung her head. Luke had gotten to her a long time ago, but it wasn’t until yesterday that she had admitted just how much.

She was in love with him.

There was no getting around it.

“You want an answer, Annie? Go get one. You’ve never waited for things to be handed to you. If you want him, go get him. At least to know where he stands.”

She nodded, knowing her grandmother was right. Only problem was, a new feeling was creeping up that she didn’t have a lot of experience with. Fear. Whatever answer she sought from Luke would change things, in one way or another. And that scared the shit out of her.

“Can you handle the cleanup?” she asked her grandmother.

“Of course, dear. You go on.”

“Thanks.” Grabbing her things, Annie hustled to her car and drove to Luke’s. As she suspected, he wasn’t home yet. So she let herself in like she had a hundred times over the past several weeks. Maybe a nice dinner would be good. To take the edge off her racing pulse.

While boiling water for pasta and cutting veggies for the sauce, she prepared for what she had to say to Luke. Because good or bad, he’d give her an answer. And then she’d know.

A low hum, then paper rustling sounded from the bedroom. She walked over to the small desk in Luke’s room and saw a bunch of papers pop up in the fax machine.

Not one to pry, she turned to go back to the kitchen, but two words caught her eye: Contract and New York.





With harvest drawing to a close, Luke skipped going to his grandfather’s tonight for his regular check-in. He was ready to get home. After a shower, he’d call Annie. When he pulled up, he realized she’d beat him to it. She was already at his place.

Entering through the kitchen, he saw veggies cut up on the counter and a pot of water on the stove, but the water wasn’t boiling.

“Annie?”

She walked out from his room. A mix of anger, shock, and sadness played on her face.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Luke?”

He looked her over. Was she upset because he hadn’t responded to her admission yesterday? All day he had been thinking about her and what the hell his feelings were. They were strong, he knew that. And he wanted to spend that time with her. Figuring out what to do about the new job offer, which he had to make a decision about in several days.

“About last night—”

“I’m not talking about that.”

“Well, I’d like to,” he said, trying to figure out why she was being this way.

“Tell me the truth, Luke. For once, tell me something to my face before I’m hit with it later.”

“I have told you the truth.”

“Really? So this contract to go to New York isn’t real?”

“What?” Shock settled in his gut. “That wasn’t supposed to come in until next week.”

The way her face fell when he said that did horrible things to his chest. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant,” she said so softly he had to strain to hear her. “You had another opportunity you couldn’t pass up, right?”

Hearing her say the words he’d said to her before was tough to swallow.

“Annabelle, let’s talk about this.”

“Are you going to New York, Luke?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Whatever was warring within him, he didn’t recognize. It was an emotion—something painful and achy—that rendered him speechless.

“I guess I have my answer,” she whispered.

She walked past him out the door.

“Baby, wait.”

Water lined her eyes when she looked over her shoulder and said, “I can’t.”





Chapter Eight

It had been three hours since Annie left. And it was the longest three hours of Luke’s life. He’d spent it pacing in his cabin and trying to figure out what to do.

Luke knew she needed space. And he was trying to give her that. Mostly because he didn’t know what to say. How the hell could he explain something he didn’t understand himself?

He should want to go east. To take this opportunity and make good for himself and his family.

A knock on his front door sounded, and Luke put down the scotch he was drinking and rushed to answer.

“Anna—”

Nope, not Annabelle. His grandfather.

“Hey, Pop, come in.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said as he sat down, glancing at the drink on the table.