A smile curves my lips when he shudders dramatically. “Why not let her? She’s pretty, if you don’t mind that plastic Barbie doll look. And according to Auntie June, she’s recently come into loads of money. You could be her kept man to begin with. Then who knows? It might blossom into love.”
He makes a rude noise. “You’re a romantic.”
I pull back to look at him. His beard stubble is less obvious tonight, although it’s still there. More of a two o’clock shadow than a five o’clock shadow.
I try to see him through the eyes of the women who bid on him. But to me, he’ll always be that shy, gangly teenager with the quiet smile and a heart as soft and wet as a summer rain.
“And that makes you what?” I ask. “A cynic?”
“Maybe.” He hitches one shoulder. “It’s easier being a cynic. You can’t be disappointed by things when you think those things are already disappointing.”
“You think falling in love is disappointing?”
Again, he shrugs one shoulder.
“And how would you know? Have you ever been in love?”
He shakes his head ruefully. “Nope. Never. But I reckon that’s ’cause I was always holding a candle for you.”
“Please.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t forget you told me about all the casual sex you’ve been having.”
His dimples flash. “I never claimed to be a monk. I only said I never fell in love ’cause I was holding a candle.” His words are starting to make me uneasy. “People hold candles, Maggie May.”
Oh dear Lord in heaven. He’s serious.
Is the floor falling out from under my feet? I look down, astonished to discover it’s still there.
“Luc, I—”
“Shhh,” he interrupts. “I know you love Cash. I know you’ll always love Cash. And I don’t want things to get weird between us, but I thought it was time to shed some light on the things I’ve kept in the dark for too long. Now it’s done. Now we can move on with open hearts and clear heads.”
My throat feels full. There’s heat behind my eyes.
“Luc…” That’s all I can get out. Maybe there’s a part of me that’s occasionally wondered. There was the time before Cash arrived, and then there was the night in the swamp. But if so, it was a part I chose to ignore because ithurtsto think I could ever cause him pain or make him feel—
“Don’t make me regret telling you, Maggie May,” he cuts into my thoughts. “After all these years, and after everything we’ve been through together, we’re supposed be able to shoot each other straight.”
I nod and pull him close, trying to think of the right words to tell him what’s in my heart.
“I’ve loved you since I was fourteen years old, Luc,” I eventually whisper. “I willalwayslove you.”
But I’m notinlove with him. I don’t add that, of course. There’s no need. We both know it’s true.
He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll always love you too, Maggie May, ’cause that’s what friends do. And no matter what, wearefriends.”
