The thought of her disappearing, especially after that kiss, when every breath I take still smells like eucalyptus was enough to make me rush through my conversation with Tony as quickly as possible. To get out of the shop. To stop her before she bolts.
My hands tighten on the wheel as I barrel down Main Street, away from Willow’s shop and toward Elaine’s house.
The few short blocks feel like thousands of miles, though. Each second that ticks by might as well be hours as far as my anxiety is concerned. It’s all time Lucky has to gather her things and find a ride out of town.
By the time Elaine’s finally comes into view, I’m vibrating. Every muscle in my body is tensed, ready for the argument I can see coming—if I get there in time.
Please, God, let me catch her…
I pull into the driveway, throw the truck into park, turn off the ignition, and launch myself out of the cab, racing toward the steps that lead up to her apartment.
My boots thud heavily as I take them two at a time, and the door opens as I reach the top. Lucky steps out with Gizmo in her arms, a backpack on her shoulders, and her purse strapped across her.
Ready to leave.
“I knew it.”
Her gaze meets mine, filled with so much fear it makes my heart clench.
I grip the banisters on either side of the stairs, channeling my frustration into the wood instead of directing it at her. “You’re running.”
Lucky’s mouth opens and closes a few times, as if she isn’t sure what to say. She swallows thickly and locks the door behind her. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to stop you.”
She turns to face me fully. “Stop me from what?”
I release my death grip and throw my hands out. “From this! From leaving!”
Fuck.
That came out all wrong.
I hadn’t meant to yell, to sound so…unhinged like that did.
But she can’t seriously be asking me that after what just happened in the candle shop—both the kiss and the very obvious way she avoided the sheriff.
Lucky gulps in air, as if she’s gathering up the nerve to say whatever she’s about to. “I told you the day we met that I wasn’t going to stay, Liam.”
She did.
I didn’t like it then, and I certainly don’t like it now.
“Yeah, that was then, and things are different now, Lucky.”
“Are they?”
Her attempt at deflection stings, but it isn’t going to work on me. I am not going to turn around, march down these steps, and walk away from her after everything that has happened.
I am not going to walk away from how this woman makes me feel simply because she’s afraid of it.
“You know they are.” I level my gaze on her and watch her shift in her worn Chucks as if she can physically feel it. “Open the door, Lucky.”
“Why?”
“So we can go in there and talk.”
She shakes her head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
