When I arrived, I sat in my vehicle for several seconds, my hands gripping the steering wheel. Then I saw Snapper come out the door. I got out, and when we came face-to-face in the driveway, I braced myself for him to tell me to leave.
Instead, he gathered me in an embrace that nearly broke me.
“Get your ass inside,” he said when we stepped apart. “Ma’s frantic.”
The kitchen was crowded with my brothers, sister, and their families. There was an overall sense of giddiness in the room that I knew had nothing to do with my arrival. Then Saffron’s left hand caught the light, and I went still.
“Holy shit. You’re engaged,” I blurted.
Snapper’s grin said it all, but so did the forgiveness in his eyes. I’d been so wrapped up in my own mess that I’d nearly missed one of the most important moments of my brother’s life.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of congratulations and family and trying not to think of the woman I desperately wanted to talk to. Trying not to wonder if her distance on Christmas Eve was all I’d ever get from her again.
By the time I got home, it was late. As much as I wanted to reach her, give it one more try, I went to bed instead.
But the following morning, I gave in.
I pressed call. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. I was ready to hang up when?—
“Hello?”
She caught me off guard. I’d expected to hear the same recorded greeting I always did. “Hey. I, uh—I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.”
“I know.”
“I hope I’m not catching you in the middle of something.” I rolled my eyes. Why had I given her the perfect out to end the call, just when she’d finally picked up?
I heard rustling in the background, footsteps maybe. “I’m trying to arrange for a car service to take me to the airport.”
What she said took a moment to sink in. “You’re leaving?”
“I’m going to Italy.”
My chest tightened. Italy, where the Van Orrs owned a villa she’d mentioned once or twice over the past year. “When?”
“My flight’s at noon.”
“I can drive you,” I offered.
The silence on the other end went on for so long that I thought she’d hung up. I waited for the refusal, for her to tell me she didn’t need anything from me, that she’d already made arrangements.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
“What time do you need to leave?” I asked.
“About an hour? That should give me enough time.”
“I’ll be there.”
The line went dead. No goodbye, no thanks for offering. Just disconnection.
I arrivedat the Van Orr estate fifteen minutes early because I couldn’t make myself wait any longer. Mytruck idled at the gate while I tried to figure out what I was going to say to her.
A year ago, we’d hated each other. I’d thought she was a spoiled princess who enjoyed making a spectacle of herself at the bachelor auction every year, chasing after Snapper as if he were some prize to be won. She’d thought I was a judgmental ass who looked down on her from my moral high ground.
We’d both been right and completely wrong.
My heart raced when the gate opened with a mechanical groan, and I drove through.
