“It is,” I agreed.
“Do you think you’ll stay in Church Heights or go back to your . . . home?”
I wondered if he meant the place, or Tom, or both? The unease of my temporary situation raised its ugly head again. After all these years, you’d think I’d have gotten used to it, but I never have. I drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t know what I’m going to do long term. But there’s nothing back home for me now.”
He nodded.
“Have you ever been in love?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them; it was a personal question to ask. I’d always had a habit of putting my foot in my mouth, speaking first and thinking later. It was a trait that’d gotten me into many awkward situations, and this was no exception. I stared at him, hoping I hadn’t overstepped the mark, but when he answered, his voice held no trace of annoyance; it held such a wispy ring of sadness to it, I almost missed it.
“Yes, I have.”
I should have left it there, but because I’d already started the conversation and I wanted to know more about him, I pressed on. “What happened?”
His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead. “Like every love story, Amelia, it ended in pain.”
He was probably right—with the exception of slowly growing apart and mutual separation, every love story ended in painone way or the other. Still, it seemed a diabolically pessimistic thought.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now.”
“When you’re not here, where do you go?” I asked, keen to move the conversation away from the heaviness to something a little lighter.
“Everywhere. I travel a lot. I’ve been all around America, and to places like Paris, London, Egypt. You name it, I’ve been there.”
“Sounds amazing. Where’s your favorite spot?”
“I’m not sure... Italy is interesting. Paris is very romantic. Have you traveled?”
“No, not yet, but I will one day. I can’t wait to see the world.”
“Perhaps one day I will take you to Paris.”
I was left a little speechless at that comment, although he couldn’t be serious. Who asked someone they’d just met to go to Paris? He turned onto the gravel road to Serenity Lake. I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that we’d arrived all too quickly. I could’ve spent hours talking to him. Iwantedto spend hours talking to him.
We pulled up outside my cabin. I put my hand on the door handle and turned to thank him.
“Please, wait,” he said, jumping out and coming around to open the door. Tom opened the door for me sometimes when we got in the car, but never when we pulled up. It seemed ludicrous to sit there and wait for him to open it.
“I’ve got it.” I opened the door and stepped out, surprised to already see him standing in front of me. “Thank you for the lift home.”
The moon gilded his face, his devastatingly powerful eyes, strong jaw, and those lips. His beauty took my breath away and spiraled my heart into nervous knocks.
“It’s my pleasure, Amelia. If you give me your keys, I’ll get your car home to you.”
I didn’t want to be any more hassle than I already had been, and my car was a 2018 Ford Fiesta, a shoebox, and a bomb compared to what he drove. I not only couldn’t imagine him driving it, I was mortified to think he would.
“Oh no.” I shook my head. “That’s fine. I’ll run in tomorrow.”
He scowled. “Run in? It would take you at least three hours.”
“I know, but I like to run. It’s fine.”
He turned his gaze across to the mountains, his frown remaining firmly in place. “Don’t run that long up into the mountains on the other side—it’s not safe up there.”
“I won’t. Matt warned me already.”
He held out his hand. “Keys, or I’ll pick you up tomorrow. The choice is yours.”
