Jericho ~ Present
THE PAIN THAT HIT MY gut was as instantaneous as the rapid beating of my heart at the sight of her.
It happened every time.
Every. Single. Time.
I did my best to ignore it, to ignore her, but I’d been trying that since I’d arrived over a year ago, and it was just as impossible now as it had been then.
Not when I could hear the sexy timbre of her voice, see her gray-blue eyes widen with fear every time they landed on me, or feel the weight of her longing. Because whether she wanted to admit it or not, it was there.
Just as I still longed for her.
I stood a moment longer, watching the three sisters walk down Main Street, Natasha’s bright-red bob swaying with each step, then forced myself to turn away and walk inside.
I strolled through Prime Beef, glancing around at my staff and making sure the dining room was ready to open for lunch. I didn’t bother going into the kitchen, I knew my head chef, Hector, would have everything under control. That was why I’d hired him, after all, so that I wouldn’t have to worry about what was going on in the kitchen.
I was a business major with a hospitality minor, and Hector was a graduate of Le Cordon Bleu with ten years of experience. We made a great team, and although I ultimately owned Prime Beef, I considered him my partner.
Prime Beef wouldn’t be what it was without both of us, and I was extremely proud of what we’d accomplished in such a short time.
Still feeling the effects of my Natasha sighting, I headed for my office, pulled open my mini fridge, and grabbed a cold water. I sat at my desk, uncapping the water, and took a long drink, then I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.
Out of all the places in the world I could have opened my restaurant, a small town may not seem like the obvious choice. In fact, Hector had tried to talk me out of it a couple times, arguing that we’d fare better in the big city, but I wouldn’t budge.
Natasha had talked about this place a few times while we were together, but she’d either downplayed the quaintness of the town, or hadn’t been able to see it for what it was at the time. She had been hell bent on getting away from her hometown and becoming independent, so maybe she hadn’t realized what she had here until she’d gotten older.
Not me. The second I’d walked down Main Street, I’d known there was no place else I’d rather live and work.
Coming from the streets of Philly, I’d known hard, cold, and hungry, but what I hadn’t known was beauty, warmth, and community.
It was true, I’d originally come here to find Natasha. To confront her about her cowardice. To rage at her for leaving me without so much as a goodbye. To find out why . . . But, I hadn’t done any of those things.
Instead, I’d bought a prime piece of real estate on Main Street, informed Hector that I’d found our location, and hired a moving van.
It was a stroke of luck that three months into development, Natasha and her sisters had set up their own business and moved in right across the street. At that time, I’d already been living there for four months, and I still hadn’t run into Natasha.
To say she was shocked would be an understatement, and to say seeing her had rocked me to my very core would be completely accurate.
She’d cut and died her hair, and had obviously gotten a few years older, but she still looked exactly the same. My first instinct had been to go to her, to take her into my arms, and tell her how much I’d missed her, but the look of utter horror on her face had stopped me cold.
Yes, she’d left me without looking back, and yes, I’d come here to rail at her for breaking my heart, but never in a million years had I expected to see that look on her face.
My confidence had fled and I’d become uncertain of how to proceed, so I decided to wait. To give her time to come to terms with my being here, and to let her come to me when she was ready.
That had been over a year ago, and she’d never come.
No, instead, she scurried away like a frightened mouse any time she laid eyes on me.
Hell, the one time we’d actually been in the same room together, at a bar with her sisters and our mutual friends, she’d looked at me like I was the offender, and had fled the bar almost in tears.
Her sisters had also looked at me like I was the leaver instead of the leavee, which was totally baffling.
I was the injured party here, not her, so why had they all acted like I was the asshole? And, why did Natasha’s eyes widen in fear whenever she saw me. She had to know that no matter how angry with her I was, I’d never harm her in any way.
I opened my eyes and let out a heavy sigh.
I’d been fucking around for over a year, confused, and yes, scared of what finally confronting Natasha would mean. Would she regret leaving me, or was she happy with her decision? Did she still feel anything for me, or had she moved on?
These were the thoughts that kept me up and night, and no matter what the answers, it was time to stop torturing myself.
I was going to finally man up and confront Natasha.