Chapter 22

Whatever Jordan’s boss had said to her on the phone call had gotten under her skin. Luke had known it the second she came downstairs, tension written all over her usually smiling features.

At first he thought to let her work it out. He hadn’t said a word when she chugged her coffee instead of sipping it like she usually did while cuddling the cat and petting Winston.

And when she started out their run with a sprint instead of their usual warm-up jog, he’d simply met her grueling pace. He was a runner too. He knew that sometimes a good run could banish a bad thought. Knew that sometimes you needed to feel like you were outrunning your demons, even if they were ultimately still waiting for you at the finish line.

But when Jordan eventually slowed to a jog, then to a walk, he knew it hadn’t worked for her. Not this time.

Her mouth was pinched, her eyes guarded. Everything about her said, Leave me alone, but he couldn’t.

She let out an agitated huff, and when he saw her body coil as though about to burst into another sprint, he gently wrapped his hand around her elbow, pulled her toward him.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Talk to me.”

She was panting, although he wasn’t sure if it was from her run or from whatever was racing through her mind.

“I can’t,” she said hoarsely. “I don’t know how.”

His hands moved over her arms. “How do I help?”

She pulled away and turned toward the lake, hands locked behind her head as she took in several deep breaths.

She faced him again. “What happened with you and Eva?”

Luke’s head snapped back. He’d suspected that whatever had happened on the phone call had to do with him—with his refusal to do the dumb television show.

He’d thought they were past that, though, thought maybe she was just recovering from her boss’s scolding.

What the hell did his ex have to do with anything?

“We didn’t work out,” he said curtly. “It happens.”

“I think it was more than that. Everyone I’ve talked to says you were a wreck after she left, but you said you were the one who walked away from the wedding. Either you were the brokenhearted or the heartbreaker. Which was it?”

He clenched his jaw and stayed silent.

“Were you destroyed because she left? Because Gil died? Talk to me here, Luke. Help me understand.”

The mention of Gil and Eva in the same sentence tore at Luke with a gnawing ache he didn’t know what to do with.

“It’s not open for discussion,” he growled.

“But—”

“That’s not how these things work,” he interrupted, running one hand over his hair, the other on his hip. “You don’t get to roll into town, turn my life upside down, screw me, and then expect me to spill my guts right before you prance back out of town again.”

“Spare me the manly lash-out routine,” she snapped back. “I’m trying to protect you, but I need you to work with me.”

He stepped closer. “You want me to work with you? Fine. Tell me what your boss said. Tell me what’s gotten you upset.”

She stayed stubbornly silent, arms crossed over her chest, defensive and angry.

Their gazes clashed in an angry battle of wills for several seconds before Luke broke eye contact with a harsh laugh. “Screw this. I’m done.”

Jordan knew she should let him walk away.

But she couldn’t.

“Eva’s coming here,” she called to his retreating back.

Luke went very still, his entire body tensing in dread.

He turned toward her. “What?”

Jordan swallowed and let her arms fall to her side. “That’s what my boss told me. Eva’s coming here. To Lucky Hollow.”

He looked shell-shocked. “Why?”

Jordan sighed, suddenly exhausted. “Eva somehow heard you were a possible candidate for the show. She got in touch with some people at CBC, said she’d tell her side of the story. The network execs think she’s the perfect option for a spin-off.”

He ran his hands through his hair again. “I don’t give a shit whether she whores herself out on television. What’s it got to do with me? With Lucky Hollow?”

Jordan swallowed nervously, knowing that her job would be on the line if her boss found out she was about to say this, but she couldn’t not warn him. She couldn’t not prepare him. “They want to see her confront you. The heartbroken bride confronting the man who left her at the altar.”

His face revealed nothing, but instinctively she knew he was reeling on the inside. How could he not be?

To have Eva come back after all this time, to know that some TV scavengers wanted to record the moment…

But apparently Luke didn’t want to talk about Eva. He wanted to talk about her.

“And what did you say, Jordan?” he asked quietly.

“I told Raven I thought the story wasn’t quite what Eva might have led them to believe.”

“Did you tell them not to come?”

Jordan flinched and crossed her arms once more, answering his question silently.

“Got it,” he snapped.

“Look, Luke, I will tell them. I just need something to work with. I need to pacify them, to keep my job and to protect you too, and I can do both if you’ll tell me what went on with you and Eva. Then I can tell them why it’s not a good idea that she come here—”

He scoffed. “Right. Exchange one juicy story for another, right? Maybe if I give them a good enough version of my side, they’ll sweeten the deal. Offer more money to coax me into being part of their show, right?”

Jordan’s heart quickened in panic at the way he was twisting this.

“Stop. That’s not what this is. Luke, you have to know by now that this isn’t just about the show, it’s not about my boss.”

“No? What’s it about then, Jordan?”

She swallowed, made herself say it out loud, even though it came out as a whisper. “You make me want things I haven’t let myself want in a long time.”

He studied her, then shook his head. “That’s it? That’s all I get? You tell me you’re dredging up the worst part of my life, and I get some vague crap about your self-discovery?”

His rejection of her admission hurt, even as she knew he had a point. He deserved more, but didn’t he get that she wasn’t ready? This was all new to her. She’d spent her entire adult life avoiding feeling anything important for anyone, too terrified that she’d lose them, and he wanted her to change overnight.

Her fear made her speak without thinking. “Well, gosh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Elliott. Not all of us have had three fiancées to practice our pretty talk on.”

His expression registered hurt a split second before anger took over again. “You know what, City?” Luke stepped closer. “Go ahead and tell them to bring Eva on in. Roll out the red carpet and bring in the paparazzi.”

She stared at him. “You don’t really want that.”

“To see Eva again? No, not really. To put all that shit behind me, I do want that. You know why?”

They were nearly toe to toe, and she tilted her face up to his, shook her head.

“Because,” he said softly, raking his gaze over her features. “The sooner I get this over with, the sooner you’ll go back to New York and your precious job, and you and I can get on with our lives.”

She recoiled in pain. “Luke—”

He turned and jogged away before he could hear the rest of what she had to say. It was just as well. She was pretty sure the words on the tip of her tongue could destroy both of them.

I love you.