Page 122 of Lost Love on 6th Street

Luke nods. “I understand.”

“I didn’t think I could hack it here. Not just because I don’t have a job anymore or a boyfriend, but because all the things I love about Austin have to do with you. I saw you wherever I went. So, I thought the only choice I could make was to leave. But I don’t know anymore.”

He pinches his eyes shut and shakes his head. “Eleanor, I’m sorry. I’ve acted like such an asshole.”

“At least you know it,” I grin.

Luke laughs, chest rumbling against mine. He releases me, keeping a hand on my arm as if I might float away if he lets go. “I didn’t know what to do with myself after I found out about my dad and—”

“I get it.”

“I thought you might be better off without me. I mean, I lied and then I have a philanderer for a father. I feel like you could do better.”

I focus on Shortbread for a moment, scratching his head. “Let’s sit, hm?”

Luke and I sit on the top step. Shortbread too, plopping down next to me until he’s lying on his belly.

I start. I’m the one who showed up out of the blue. “Look, I think you made a mistake with the picture. I can forgive you for that because life is a whole lot better with you than without.”

Luke drops his head and laughs a little at himself.

“As far as what happened with your dad . . . if that’s how you always respond to something bad happening, pushing me away, then I have to walk away, Luke.”

Luke grabs my hand. “I promise, I won’t. Never again. It was—I’d say it wasn’t like me, but the truth is, I don’t know myself in a relationship like this. Not with someone who—” He stops. “Goddammit, Eleanor, I think you’re the love of my life.”

“And you couldn’t even bother to call and tell me?” I ask with a stupid smile.

He brings my hand to his mouth, his lips ghosting across my knuckles. “Is it too little too late to tell you I need you? That I don’t want you to go?”

“Not too late,” I say.

Luke leans closer to my ear. “I need you. I don’t want you to go to Chicago.”

Before he can pull away, I turn my face into his and let my lips press against his. I’ve needed this. Badly.

Luke cups my cheek and when the kiss breaks, he leans his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough.”

“It’s okay. We’re here now. We’ll try again.”

“You’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay.”

He kisses my forehead.

“I like your house,” I say.

“It’s . . . intense, isn’t it?”

“Intense?”

Luke glances up at it. “I don’t know. I bought it because I knew I wanted to have a home and a family someday. But then I realized when women learn you have a house, they start thinking you’re trying to rush things and—”

“I love it,” I interrupt. “Perfect for a man and his dog.”

“Speaking of . . .” Luke reaches around me and pats Shortbread. “Claire mentioned I could rename him.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “You don’t like the name Shortbread?”

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