Page 90 of Four Dates and A Forever
“I didn’t let her go, she left.” Left him standing there in the alley with his heart on the ground.
“Then go after her,” Clay said, as if fixing this mess was as easy as that.
“And say what? That I screwed up and I’m sorry, but hey, I leave in a few days and I’ll be gone, well, most of the next year.”
Jesus, when he put it like that it was no wonder that she’d put a cap on their time together. Elsie was still finding her footing after a brutal divorce, that he’d had a hand in, and he was asking her to jump into his crazy world headfirst.
“You’d be surprised what you can do in a few days,” Owen said, and Rhett shot him a look. “How far you can advance a relationship. Talk it out and find a solution.”
“I don’t think there’s a solution to this.”
Jesus, it was just hitting him. She’d actually walked away. He’d been afraid of this moment since that first kiss, but he never imagined that when she went, she’d take his freaking heart. And he never imagined that she’d walk away forever.
She’d warned him that it was hard to come back from friends with benefits, but he’d never doubted for a second that they’d pull through. Hell, until this moment he’d never doubted that he could talk her into more. Instead, he’d talked himself right out of a lifetime with love.
“There’s always a solution,” Gage said. “You have to be willing to fight for it.”
“I don’t want to hurt her anymore,” he said.
“I don’t think you could hurt her worse than she hurts now,” Owen so helpfully pointed out.
“Thanks for that observation, asshole.”
“All he means is that she’s already taken the hit and when the shock of it wears off and you’re not there, then you’ll really lose her,” Josh said.
“I’ve already lost her,” he murmured to himself. “I just thought I’d have more time to convince her that this could work.”
“You still have time,” Gage said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “But it’s what you do with that time that will determine just how deep you’ve stepped in it.”
Oh, Rhett was in deep. So deeply in love with her he couldn’t even think straight, which was why he was probably standing there like an idiot while his person was out there, hurting.
He hadn’t planned on falling in love. Didn’t have the time or inclination, yet it had happened anyway. But watching Elsie carve out her dream from nothing, tackle life with so much heart and determination, it made him realize something—he was missing the life part of living.
These last few weeks with her had been some of the best weeks of his life. And if he didn’t figure his shit out, and quick, he was going to end up spending his life lonely and alone. He’d come home for peace and space, but what he’d really been craving was connection. And he’d never felt connected to another human being the way he was with Elsie.
He looked at his brothers and knew they were right. He needed to go after her. But before he could do that, he needed to have something to offer her besides empty promises and lonely nights.
He pulled his cell from his pocket and dialed her. It went to voice mail. “Els,” he began, not surprised when his voice cracked with emotion, “I have a few things I need to do but don’t give up. Just promise me you won’t give up on us.”
Want more Eastons?
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Chapter One
Darcy Kincaid had dreamed about this day since she was six and uncovered her mother’s stash of Southern Wedding magazines in the basement. After a lifetime of planning, handpicking two thousand of the palest of pink peonies, and her entire life savings, she was about to pull off, what she believed to be, the most romantic I Do in history. The sun was high, the sky was crystal blue, and a gentle June breeze carried the scent of the nearby primrose blooms and ever after.
Today was the perfect day to be married, and the rose garden at Belle Mont House was the ideal backdrop. And Darcy wasn’t about to let a tail-chasing wedding crasher ruin her moment. No matter how charming.
Not this time.
“Nuzzling the bride’s pillows before the wedding will only get you escorted out,” Darcy said to the four-legged powderpuff in matching pink booties and hair bow.
The dog, who was more runway than runaway, dropped down low in the grass, eyes big black circles of excitement, tail wagging with delight—her jewel-encrusted collar winking in the sunlight.
Darcy squinted, but could only make out the first word. “Fancy.” The little dog’s ears perked up and her tail went wild.
“Such a pretty name,” Darcy cooed, taking a cautious step forward. “I’m Darcy; it’s nice to meet you. I’m going to come a little closer so I can get a better look at your collar and find your mamma’s number. Is that okay?”
