Chapter Sixteen

Charlotte

A couple of hours later, Luke and I splashed hand in hand through an unexpected rain shower and made it inside the bar just in time to see that when Molly said “party,” she was so not kidding.

A buffet was set up in the corner of the room, and the honky-tonk’s normal fluorescent lights had been dimmed to make way for the flashing Technicolor disco ball now hanging from the ceiling. She and Duke were sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for us, it seemed.

Everyone I’d seen or met in Shady Grove was crowded around the bar, and even a few people I hadn’t met yet were dancing or clustered around the tables, talking to one another.

Luke and I laughed as Duke pretended to be affronted at our late arrival, and then I let out a low whistle as I took in the room again.

“How did you manage it? This must be the whole town,” I said in amazement.

Molly laughed. “Just about. People around these parts love a party. Even Dana French is here,” she said with a wink.

“Don’t I know it.” Duke grimaced at his brother. “Mrs. French thought I was you and tried to get me to dance with her.”

I followed his gaze until I caught sight of the girl who had to be Dana. She was pretty and petite, with a sprinkle of freckles over her long, thin nose. Down her back, she wore a thick brown plait that was tied with a bright red ponytail holder.

“Classy,” I said. “Her ponytail matches her dress.” I knew I sounded bitchy, but damned if I could help it. She was adorable, and I hated her on sight.

That’s a lie. I’d hated her from the second they’d mentioned her at the chicken place. It was petty and small and silly, but there it was.

Molly smirked. “Someone’s jealous.”

“As if.” I rolled my eyes, but I turned so Molly couldn’t see the nausea on my face. This party was super nice of her to do for me, and I wasn’t about to be an ungrateful brat for any reason.

I made my way onto the dance floor and giggled with Molly until Luke appeared at my side, a drink in hand.

I raised my eyebrows. “What’s up, cowboy?”

“I thought we should toast. I followed your advice.”

I stopped dancing and looked up at him as Molly wandered away when a friend called her over. Luke’s green eyes blazed with a proud light I’d never seen there before.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I followed your advice and struck a deal with Amos, the owner of the bar. Wilder is now their craft whiskey, and we worked together to come up with a signature cocktail. I want you to taste it.”

When he held the glass out to me again, I took it and sipped slowly, then held my hand to my lips. It was beyond delicious—sweet and mild in all the best ways, but also dark and smoky without being too heavy. There was a hint of fruit and a splash of something that coated the back of my throat with a slow, silky burn, which made me want more.

“Oh my God,” I murmured. “Did you come up with this?”

He nodded.

“What’s in it?”

“If I tell you, I’d have to kill you,” he said with a wink, and I rolled my eyes. “But it’s sort of like a blackberry old-fashioned. A mix of something new and slick, and something classic and traditional.”

When he gave me a meaningful look, I took another sip, savoring the sweet burn of the whiskey. “I’ve never had anything better.”

For once, I wasn’t sure if I was still talking about the whiskey or if it was something more, if it was all about this week here with him and these people who surrounded me. The people who cared so deeply about the Wilders that they’d gathered for a person they barely knew, just because it meant something to their neighbor.

There was a lot to be said about small towns, and that was one of them. Maybe Luke was constantly being set up with women. Maybe everyone knew everyone else’s business. But they were there for each other. If something happened or someone did something special, there was never a lack of people there who wanted to help or to celebrate.

I thought of my phone that had only rung once more in the past couple of days, and even that call had been from a doctor I didn’t know. Melancholy swept through me at that depressing thought.

Luke nodded toward my glass. “We’re calling the drink a Little Wilder.”

I smiled at him, pushing aside my sadness. This was an amazing day for him, and I couldn’t be happier to be part of it. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

I took another swig and then passed the glass for him to share, but he downed it in one swallow and held out his hand for me. When I took it, he dragged me onto the dance floor just as the music slowed and began a deep, slow lullaby.

Being in Luke’s arms, I let myself melt into him. When Wayne had stopped by the restaurant earlier, I’d been filled with such a sense of dread that I had to force my attention on my plate so Luke wouldn’t see how wrecked I was. He didn’t say a thing.

He spun me once, twice, then pulled me close, whispering against my hair. “It’s been one hell of a week, duchess. I’ll be sorry to see you go.”

“Then don’t.”

I wasn’t sure what made me say it, but Luke stilled and pulled back, his hand cupped under my chin.

“Ask me to stay,” I whispered.

I’d never meant anything more in my life, but Luke looked at me like I’d just called him a filthy word.

“I thought you didn’t need a man telling you what to do.”

Confused, I stared at him, not sure what he was talking about. It took a moment for the memory to resurface, and when it did, it stung me as keenly as if he’d slapped me across the face.

“What? You’re too proud to ask me?” I asked.

“I shouldn’t have to. Come on, duchess, be reasonable.”

“Be reasonable?” I blinked, suddenly aware that the burn in the back of my throat wasn’t whiskey anymore, but the first sign of a wave of tears.

“I’m not asking you to stay. You should stay only if you want to.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that I blinked again, waiting for the rest of his explanation, but it didn’t come. Instead, he just stared at me.

Stunned, I nodded slowly. “Roger that.”

I stepped away from him and slipped away through the crowd, glancing briefly toward Duke and Molly to make sure they were too preoccupied to notice when I slipped out the door and into the evening air.

So Luke didn’t want me to stay? Fine. That was perfect. Or maybe he was just too stubborn to ask me. Either way, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to uproot my whole life for a man who couldn’t mutter a few simple words. I deserved more than that.

Lightning cracked, followed by a slow rumble of thunder, and I lifted my face to the rain in hopes that it would hide my tears.

I’d stupidly put myself on the line and been shot down. Swallowing a sob, I glanced back at the bar before I broke into a jog, thankful I’d worn my flats.

Come tomorrow afternoon, I’d be long, long gone.

And apparently? That was the way Luke wanted it.