Page 65 of His Southern Temptation

“Stay.” He pulled back far to see her face, look into her eyes, and let her see that he believed enough for both of them. “I love you. Stay.”

The time between his plea and her answer was not more than a heartbeat, but it felt like everything stood still. As if the universe knew his world was about to collapse and it wanted to spare him the inevitable.

She smoothed a trembling hand along his face, burying her fingers in his hair as a tear spilled over and rolled down her cheek. She was really sorry, he read it in her eyes, but it didn’t stop her from saying the words he would have given a million lifetimes never to hear.

“Lucky, I can’t stay.”

“So, you’re gonna do this? You’re afraid, so you push me away before I can walk away from you? You expect people to let you down, so you hide behind your job when it gets too scary to risk your heart.” Her eyes were wide with pain, but he couldn’t stop. “You’re convinced that being with you will never be enough to make anyone want to stay. I can’t change that if you won’t give me the time to prove you wrong.”

He stared at her, willing her take that leap with him. This wouldn’t work with just one of them believing. Taylor only stared at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand. She was leaving. She didn’t believe. He wasn’t worth the risk. With that one look, he knew it was over.

He’d lost her. She was already gone; whatever she felt for him was not strong enough to overcome her fear. He’d bet his life that she loved him, but if Taylor didn’t believe that it was enough, he had nothing. He couldn’t make it work when he was the only one trying.

Lucky withdrew from her body and uncoiled from her embrace. With shaky hands, he pulled up his pants and proceeded to methodically fasten each button and buckle his belt. The routine movement helped him gain his center, his balance. Heat stung his throat as he attempted to speak. It took two tries before he was able to get anything out that remotely resembled his own voice.

“When will you leave?”

“The day after tomorrow. There is a morning flight out of Roanoke,” she said in a flat, small voice.

She sat on the stairs, looking a little dazed and shell-shocked. He knew what that felt like.

“I know I promised to drive you the airport, but I can’t do it. I can’t keep my promise,” he said.

As his words sunk in, Taylor met his eyes, and he started backing up to make his escape before this scene got any worse. He drank in the sight of her and imprinted it on his mind, because if he was to have any chance of moving on, this had to be the last time he ever laid eyes on her.

When he heard her call out his name he broke into a run and never looked back.

A good soldier knows when to make a tactical retreat in order to fight another day.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Mother, thank you.”

Taylor glanced across the kitchen island at the woman she realized she didn’t know at all. She didn’t know how long she’d sat on those cold steps after Lucky had left the house with a violent slam of the front door. She’d called his name, although there was no point since nothing had changed in the few seconds since she’d told him she couldn’t stay. The hurt and pain on his face was imprinted on her heart, her head—hell, her whole body hurt like it had suffered direct impact.

“What are you thanking me for, Mary-Taylor?” Marian asked.

“For putting me back together. For kicking my ass.” Taylor almost laughed at the displeasure her mother unsuccessfully tried to hide. She’d been a trouper when she’d found Taylor crying at the bottom of the stairs. She’d forced her to eat, shower, and move forward with her plans. “Thanks for not saying ‘I told you so.’”

“I might not approve of your choice, but I’m your mother first. I never wanted to see you hurting like that. All I did was comfort my child, and I was very sorry I had reason to.” She sipped her coffee. “I am sorry you’re leaving so soon. It would have been nice to have you around a little while longer.”

“I have to get back.” I have to get away before I change my mind. “I need to do some things before I can open, and I can’t do them from here.”

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