My phone vibrated on the nightstand beside my bed. I ignored it, intuition telling me it was him.

I rubbed the back of my hand under my nose and then used the palm to wipe more tears from my face.

The little bastards had been ruining my makeup since the moment I left Tucker standing in front of my family’s home. Abandoning the chance of a future with him, once again.

I showed up to the airport looking like a complete wreck with no guarantee I’d get a flight back to Seattle. Hannah had found me at the check-in counter. She took one good look at me and took charge—no questions asked—getting me on the same flight home as her.

She shared a cab with me all the way to my apartment, staying with me until I insisted she leave.

Sitting in my room exhausted and alone with only a bottle of wine to keep me company, I wished I hadn’t insisted. The effects of the alcohol were only making things worse. Diluting my control. Enhancing my desire to drunk dial. Making me question every decision I’d ever made.

Should I have left Billingsley the way I had? Definitely. Probably. Crap. I wasn’t sure anymore.

I took another swig from the bottle.

It was empty. Damn it. I was going to need a second bottle. I let the empty one roll from my hand and fall to the floor. I’d pass out soon. Maybe. Hopefully.

A second notice vibrated my phone. As if I needed that courtesy reminder that I had an unread text waiting for me.

“I’m well aware, thank you very much. I don’t need you rubbing it in my face. Can’t you see I’m having a hard enough time ignoring you?” I narrowed my eyes, wiping more snot from my nose.

Great. Now I was berating my phone as if it were a living thing.

Rolling to my side, I turned my back on the offending device. I closed my eyes, then opened them, peering over my shoulder. I huffed, flipping the phone upside down before laying my head back on the pillow, facing away from the stupid thing once again.

I tossed and turned, the bed strangely less comfortable than I remembered. The air stuffy. My pajamas itchy. Sleep refusing to come. I flung myself to my back, staring at the ceiling with an exaggerated sigh. It had to have been at least thirty minutes that passed. I picked up my phone to check the time. It’d been five. Five damn minutes.

I let my eyes skim over the text. The one my thumb had taken upon itself to open.

T: I meant every word. You’re my home, Lottie. Wherever that is.

I was definitely going to need that second bottle.

* * *

I slipped off my heels as soon as we entered the suite. Hannah followed right behind me. She ordered room service. I popped open our first bottle of wine we’d bought on the walk back to the hotel.

I poured us each a glass before taking a seat on the small sofa in the room. Hannah joined me, sitting in the wingback chair across from me. She crossed her legs at her knees, one foot bouncing like a junkie as she took that first satisfying sip.

“Any word from the realtor?” she asked, trying to hide her casual question behind what she really wanted to know.

“Yes…” I sighed heavily, tired of evading the inevitable. She’d been patient, not forcing me to talk about what had happened that morning I abruptly left Billingsley. “There’s an offer. A very generous one he thinks I’d be foolish to turn down.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what? Foolish?” I asked dryly.

She narrowed her eyes, her lips pressed in a thin line, unamused by my sarcasm. “Are you going to turn it down? I already know you’re a fool.”

I shrugged, focused on the view of the Eiffel Tower through the window. It was lit up against the black background. A beacon in the sky.

Paris had been perfect. Paris was just what I needed. A distraction. Perspective. A busy few days that kept me focused on the job I loved and not on a certain person I couldn’t allow myself to love.

Hannah’s critical eyes remained on me, searing into my profile. Examining. Judging. I shifted to my side, tucking my legs under me, my fingers still fidgeting with the stem of my glass.

“What are you doing here, Lottie?”

“What do you mean? I’m here for work, same as you.”

Her head fell to the side, a huff of breath escaping from her lips. “No. You’re avoiding. How long are you going to hold up this charade that you’re happy to be back?”

“I am happy. Who wouldn’t be happy being paid to travel the world for their dream job?”

“A person whose heart isn’t in it anymore. Admit it. Something changed for you while you were there.”

Relenting, I lowered my gaze to my glass as I deliberately swirled the wine around and up the sides. “He’s engaged. To Abby Taylor.” I struggled to vocalize the words, a bitter taste on my tongue, a sharp knife in my chest that refused to be ignored. Of all the people he could have chosen to marry.

“Was engaged. He isn’t any longer. It ended before they even married. And so what? You were gone for twelve years. You can’t expect a man like that to be celibate all that time. Lord knows, you weren’t.”

I glared at her, my lips tightening, irritation surmounting. “You don’t understand, Hannah. The woman was my nemesis. She was the worst of the worst when it came to mean girls.”

The betrayal. The hurt. Both were more pungent than I could have imagined. Abby Fucking Taylor. The girl who made it her mission to make my life a living hell. The girl who got everything she ever wanted—except Tucker. Pfft. Looks like she got him after all.

Their marriage made sense. The Taylor family ran the largest ranch in the county. They were Billingsley royalty. Same as the Monroes. Abby was the type of woman who’d be happy to stay at home, playing the part of a trophy wife. Being a good mother? That I wasn’t so sure about. The thought bothered me more than it should, my heart breaking for Lily. The burning sensation returned in my chest, the air around me closing in. I tugged at the buttons on my silk blouse, undoing a few.

Hannah set her glass aside, her body straightening with authority, her arms crossing, preparing herself to deliver one of her customary lectures for the day.

I refilled my glass, needing its powers to numb. I slouched back against the couch with an annoyed sigh, preparing myself for the onslaught of Hannah’s words.

“I’m not going to sit here and pretend to understand this small town rivalry the two of you had. What I’m going to do is tell you to get over it. The man obviously had slim pickings when you left town. Which I can confirm after seeing what Billingsley has to offer.”

I blinked away the tears welling in my eyes. Her posture and tone softened as she stared at me.

“You can’t hold that against him, Lottie. I’d be willing to bet he would’ve never given her a second glance had you been around. Billy seems to think the two of you were meant to be together. And after seeing the way you two are, I have to agree.”

“Billy, huh? Have you talked to him since we left?” I diverted.

“Stop changing the subject. This is about you and Tucker. Not Billy and me.”

“It could be. I’d much rather talk about the two of you.”

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Fine. Let’s just agree to not talk about either. It’s obvious you’ve doomed yourself to a life of being a miserable old hag.”

I chunked a throw pillow at her. She deflected it with her arm, laughing, then picked up her wine glass again.

“May I just say one more thing?”

“Would it stop you if I said no?”

“Nope.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“You don’t have to choose, Lottie. You can have it all. The career, the man, the family. The only decision you need to make is whether or not you’re willing to entrust your heart with him. And from what I saw, that man will guard your heart like his own.”

* * *

I bit the tip of my pen, my eyes glazing over as I stared at my computer screen. The quiet chatter of my associates around me provided a faint background noise as my finger spun the wheel of my mouse. I’d reread the same email at least four times now, my brain not seeming to register anything but the flowers sitting on my desk.

He would send me roses. I hated roses. How could he have claimed to love me, wanting to marry me, and not know I hated roses?

David’s card was a peace offering. A plea for forgiveness. A request to try again and keep things simple. No strings. No complications. No promises for a future. Just sex. An opportunity for companionship when it suited us both.

It was what I preferred. It was the type of relationship I’d thrived at for years. Felt comfortable with. The only type of relationship I could allow myself to have. Expectations were understood by both parties upfront. It was controlled. It kept my heart safe and intact. Not ripped to shreds and scattered on the floor.

“Nice roses.” Hannah’s hip leaned against the side of my desk, distracting me from…well, nothing. It was obvious I wasn’t getting any work done today.

My eyes darted from the screen to the flowers and then back to my screen. “Sure,” I responded with zero enthusiasm.

“I thought you hated roses.”

“I do.”

She picked up the card and read it, her eyebrows rising as her eyes roamed across it. “David. Huh.” She set the card back on my desk. “So, are you going to call him?”

“I don’t know yet,” I answered honestly. The man was incessant when he wanted something. I knew the texts, the emails, the flowers would all never stop coming until I did.

She bobbed her head up and down slowly, her lips repressing a comment I likely wouldn’t appreciate. “All right. How about lunch? You want to join me?”

“I can’t. I’m too far behind.”

I’d been back in Seattle for three weeks now and was still struggling to catch up on my work. My extended stay in Billingsley had disrupted every part of my very carefully planned life.

“You need to eat, Lottie.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m fine,” she mocked childishly. “Stop saying that. We both know you aren’t. Come on,” she demanded, pulling me from my chair. “You’re eating. Then you’re going home to get some sleep. You look terrible. It’s making it hard on me to be seen with you.”

“I have work to do.”

“The work will still be here when you wake. You’ve been pulling way too many long nights. You need rest. You’re useless right now, anyway.”

I picked up my purse, dragging my feet behind her. Sleep did sound good. If only it were guaranteed I’d get some.

We walked the streets of downtown Seattle toward our favorite sushi bar, the weather unusually warm and sunny. Of course, it couldn’t be cloudy and gloomy like my mood. Karma was back to kick my ass, rubbing the bright happiness of the rest of the world in my face.

We took our seats and placed our orders. The menus unnecessary. Hannah had forced me to eat at the restaurant at least twice a week lately.

“Any word from Tucker?”

“Any word from Billy?”

“Okay”—she raised her hand in surrender—“dropping it.”

I relaxed, picking up my water. “What’s your obsession with this place?” I looked around the overpriced establishment.

“I’m stalking the owner.”

I arched an eyebrow. I’d never known Hannah to put so much effort into hooking up with a guy.

“What?” she shot back, her shoulders shrugging. “Have you seen the man? He’s like the young George Clooney from the ER days. The man has swagger.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you haven’t already closed the deal with him. Why haven’t you?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s a Christian.”

“Okay. Then why are you not praising Jesus while you tap that?”

She scoffed a smile. “Trust me. I’m trying.”

We spent the rest of our lunch chatting and scheming how she could get Mr. Sexy Sushi owner’s attention. She didn’t bring up Tucker again. And I didn’t bring up Billy. Regardless, Tucker still lingered in the back of my mind. And that needed to change.

I picked up my phone, sending off a quick text to David.

* * *

My keys clattered on the console table in the entry of my apartment. My purse slid off my limp arms, falling to the floor as I kicked off my heels, leaving them wherever they landed. I’d gone back to work despite Hannah’s pushiness. I gave in once five o’clock hit and left for the day, deciding she was right. I needed to rest if I was going to be efficient in the morning. I planned to use the weekend to catch up on all my emails.

The steps I took to my couch were a blur, my body moving of its own accord. I plopped onto the couch, searching for the remote to my TV. I found it hiding under the large envelope that sat on the coffee table. The envelope that held the final closing documents for the farm.

I’d turned down the last offer to the dismay of my real estate agent. It wasn’t about the money. The buyers just didn’t seem right for the land. When I told my agent that, I could hear the incredulous tone in his voice as he tried to convince me I wouldn’t get a better offer.

He was wrong. I had gotten a better offer. The new buyer had asked to purchase and keep Apollo and Dolly. And I’d forced myself to accept it. All that was left to do was sign the documents sitting in front of me, making it official. Something I still wasn’t able to do.

I’d asked my agent to keep the buyer’s name anonymous to me. I didn’t want to know who’d be living there. Didn’t want to know who’d be getting their happily ever after in a home I never got one in.

I was still curious about the new buyer. Wondering who they were, if they were married, if they had children. Would they love the land as much as my family had? Would they take pride in their new home? Or would they tear it down like Beau had mentioned? With them keeping Apollo and Dolly, I was hoping Beau was wrong and I’d made the right choice in accepting the offer.

There was a knock on my door. I abandoned my quest to find something to watch and stood to answer it. Looking through the peephole, I grimaced.

Unlatching the chain and turning the deadbolt, I opened the door, only cracking it enough for my body to fit in the opening, blocking his entry.

He smiled the smile that used to melt my panties. Now it seemed to only annoy me.

As he took me in, his eyes scanning over my pencil skirt and sheer blouse, I forced a tight smile of my own. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. His presence at the moment was unwanted.

“David. I didn’t expect to see you so soon. What are you doing here?”

“I was already in the area when I got your text. I thought maybe we could talk. Catch up. Did you get the flowers I sent?”

“I did. Thank you.”

“May I come in? I brought a peace offering.” He held up the bottle of Merlot in his hand. I guess there was one thing he knew I liked.

Sucking in and slowly releasing a deep breath, I stepped aside, holding the door open wider. Agreeing not only because there was a shortage of wine in my apartment lately, but because if I was truly going to try and move on with my life and from Tucker, now was as good a time as any.

He strolled confidently through the doorway, immediately making himself at home on my couch. I stood on the edge of my living room, feeling like I was seeing him for the very first time. Wondering what the hell I ever actually saw in him.

There was no arguing David was a gorgeous man—chiseled in all the right places, refined, well-mannered, impeccably dressed at all times. With his dirty blond hair trimmed and styled, his jaw freshly shaved, and his smile being one any woman would trip over her Louboutins if he flashed it at her, the man was lethal.

In fact, that was exactly how we met.

I’d been so awestruck by him that I tripped over the leash of a small poodle that a woman had been walking on the sidewalk ahead of me. Completely unaware the dog had stopped to do its business. Dazzled and confused, David had swept in like a knight in shining armor, helping me to my feet and getting my number.

David was perfect. Too perfect. Not perfect for me. His hands weren’t rough enough. His eyes not green enough. His smile not honest enough. His acts of kindness didn’t pierce my soul and make me want to be a better person.

“Are you going to sit down?” His deep voice broke through my thoughts.

“Huh?”

His head signaled to the cushion beside him.

“Oh. Um. No…we need glasses.” I excused myself.

Walking into the kitchen, I straightened my back, smoothing out my skirt with another deep breath. I needed to pull it together. This was what I wanted. Sex. No strings. I could do this. I selected two wine glasses from the cabinet. David came in behind me, setting the bottle on the counter as he opened the drawer where I kept the corkscrew.

We rotated simultaneously, our fronts colliding in my small kitchen, his hand catching one of my arms to hold me steady. I jolted at his touch, mentally ordering myself to relax, the mounting frustration making it nearly impossible.

I stepped away from him, gaining back some personal space.

David’s smile faded as he proceeded to open the wine. I placed the two glasses down, my arms crossing, leaning my hip against the counter as I watched him deftly work.

“I, uh”—he cleared his throat—“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for quite a while. Seems you’ve been out of town a lot. Work?”

“No.” I lightly shook my head. “I had to go home. My mother passed away.”

His hand stilled, his intrusive eyes flicking to mine.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Lottie. You should have called me. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” I shrugged. I was starting to tire of hearing myself say the words. “And we weren’t exactly on speaking terms, so why would I have called you?”

He popped the cork and poured us each a glass, handing me one. In no rush to respond. Or to leave. Both shortfalls aggravating me further.

“Regardless, I would have been there for you. I know some of the things I said were uncalled for, but I hope you’ll forgive me. I was caught off guard and not expecting you to say no or end things so abruptly...” He brushed his fingers down the side of my face. “You were right, though. There’s no need to get married. Things were great between us before, and I’d like to get back to that.”

Unmoved and unmoving, I stared at him blankly. Everything became clearer as if a fog suddenly lifted.

David didn’t get me. Didn’t understand me. It wasn’t his fault. He never had a chance. I wasn’t even sure I understood me. Everything I once believed I needed or wanted no longer seemed appealing. The things I thought I’d never want seemed like the only things that mattered.

Maybe I did want someone who wanted to share the bed with me for more than one night, but still knew to give me enough space to breathe. Maybe I needed someone who could ground me. Someone who could shed light on the dark thoughts in my head. Someone who was stubborn enough to try. To force me from my comfort zone all while supporting and protecting me.

There was only one man who fit that bill.

Who got me.

Who understood me.

Who knew me inside and out.

He knew how I liked my coffee. He knew I hated mornings. He knew my favorite flowers were peonies. He knew I was stubborn, selfish, and hard to love, but he loved me anyway. He knew me better than anyone. And I’d been too determined to ignore it, letting it all slip away.

I set my glass aside, not even taking a sip, done with entertaining a guest I didn’t want. “I think you should go.”

“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” His posture collapsed as he frowned.

I took the glass from his hand, setting it beside mine. “No. Yes. But no…I just…I need you to go, David.” I shoved his large, rigid frame toward the door, his steps heavy-footed as he searched his mind for answers he’d never understand. “I need to be alone right now.”

I reached around him, opening the door, waiting impatiently for him to leave. He stepped over the threshold, his hand impeding the door’s closure.

“Lottie, I don’t know what I did or said wrong. I wish you’d just tell me, so we could get past this.”

“David, you did nothing wrong. Things with us have just run their course. I’m sorry.”

I kissed his cheek, hoping to soften the blow. His face was blank as I closed the door on it. I sagged against the door, letting out a huge breath, tears once again welling up behind my eyelids.

I walked on wobbly legs back to the kitchen, retrieving the wine. Settling back onto the couch, I picked up the thick envelope, pulling out the closing documents and the complimentary bank pen that were tucked inside.

It was time.

There was only one way I’d ever be able to move forward.