EIGHTEEN
CLAIRE REARRANGED THE FLOWERS ONE more time before grabbing a paper towel to polish an invisible smudge from the soapstone counter top. She couldn’t believe the house was finally finished, and it was beautiful. And if the open house went well she might have some offers by the end of the day. She was so proud of it. It was the one bright thing in the two weeks that had passed since Luke walked out her door.
He hadn’t contacted her and he’d stayed away from the jobsite, at least while she was there. Not seeing him didn’t make the ache any less. She went through her days, doing what was required of her, but she did everything with a gaping hole in her chest where her heart used to be. She missed him with a need that could suddenly take her to her knees. But it didn’t matter, she couldn’t let it matter. He couldn’t give her what she needed and staying with him would end up costing her more in the long run. A clean break was better. At least that’s what she’d tried to convince herself.
She heard the front door open. She couldn’t count on Jackson’s cameras anymore. She’d asked him to remove them the day Luke walked away but he hadn’t gotten around to it – she suspected on purpose – until the house was finished and she wasn’t staying there until all hours of the night anymore. Plastering a smile on her face to hide her mood, she turned around to charm her first potential house buyers. Eric stood in the doorway holding a clear glass vase full of lilies of the valley. Her heart pounded in her ears. She hadn’t seen him since the night of the aborted threesome and she wasn’t sure what to expect.
“It’s beautiful, cher,” he said, offering her the flowers. “As beautiful as I knew it would be.”
She took the flowers from his hand, also accepting a chaste kiss on her cheek.
“Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot to me, and thanks for the flowers.” She buried her nose in the tiny white cup shaped blooms, inhaling the uniquely sweet floral scent.
“I mean it; you’ve done a wonderful job. Show me the rest?”
“Of course,” she said.
If she was worried there would be any residual strangeness from their night together, she needn’t have. Eric was as charming as ever, putting her at ease as he asked questions about finishes and made observations that showed he was paying attention to everything. His approval added to her growing sense of ease.
“I was right,” he said when they were back in the kitchen. “You’ll be flooded with offers.”
“I hope so,” she said, smiling at him.
“It’s good to see you smile, cher, even though I don’t think you are happy.”
She blinked furiously at the tears flooding her eyes at his words. She was not going to let herself cry. Not today when she had something to celebrate.
“I’m so sorry, Claire. I never meant to cause a problem for you.”
“It wasn’t you.” She’d grown very fond of the sexy, quirky chef, and she didn’t want to lose him too even if they drifted to more casual acquaintances.
“We’re okay, you and I?” he asked, his eager expression making his face look young.
“We’re okay.” She reached out to hug him, and he wrapped her in his arms, holding her against his strong masculine chest, and for just a moment she let herself take the comfort he offered.
“I know I shouldn’t say anything,” he said, and she knew she didn’t want to hear what came next, but she froze in his arms and listened. “I’ve never seen him like this. He’s suffering, cher. He loves you, you know.”
His words ripped at the tissue paper thin wall she’d built around her heart and the ache started all over again.
“I know that, Eric, and you know it. But I don’t think he’ll ever admit it to himself. I can’t wait for him to figure it out,” she said, leaning back in his arms. “It hurts too much.”
IT HAD BEEN weeks since Luke had seen Claire and it didn’t hurt any less. He was afraid he was doomed to carry the pain around with him the rest of his life, just like his father had. He still couldn’t believe he’d made such a colossal mess of things.
The only bright spot in the whole fucked up situation was that she seemed to be doing okay. He hadn’t wanted to hear anything about it, but he knew Eric had gone to the open house for the Chestnut Street property and declared it a success. Luke knew it would be. Claire would never do anything halfway. She gave her all to everything she tried, including loving him. Things only got screwed up when he tried to force her to hold herself back.
When the Chestnut Street house sold a week later, she sent him a check for the money he’d paid for her father’s care with a single word thank you note he kept tucked away in his breast pocket the way his father had squirreled away pictures of his mother. Luke may have been a fucking mess, but it seemed at least to him like Claire had managed to bounce.
According to Sparks’s updates, her part of the Ashton Court project was ticking along the way it should and if Jackson was right the only specter hanging over it – the ATF investigation – should disappear after his head of security shared the information he’d found with the police. If Luke couldn’t be with her, he’d do everything he could to smooth the way for her.
“Jackson’s here,” said Luke’s PA Colin over the intercom.
“Send him in.”
Luke’s head of security walked through the door pausing to give him the once over before he sat. Luke had barely slept since he walked away from Claire. Work and looking out for her was the only thing that kept him going. He knew he looked like hell. He didn’t need confirmation from his security guy.
“Tell me you have good news,” he said, leaning against the edge of his desk.
“It’s not exactly good but it’s not bad,” said Jackson, crossing one black clad leg over the other.
