‘That’s the one.’ She had no idea how she managed to keep her voice so determinedly cheerful. She waited for him to ask about her travels. They’d meant to travel together after art school—to marry and to travel. They’d planned to paint the world.
He didn’t ask. She reminded herself that he’d given all that up. Just like he’d given up on her.
Travel? With his responsibilities?
He’d made his choices.
It didn’t stop her heart from aching for him.
She gripped her hands behind her so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge their shaking. ‘When would it be convenient for me to call around and collect it?’
His eyes gave nothing away. ‘Have you booked into Gwen’s B&B?’
She nodded.
‘Then I’ll have it sent around.’
She read the subtext. He didn’t need to say the words out loud. It would never be convenient for her to call around. She swallowed. ‘Thank you.’
With a nod, he turned and stalked to the door. He reached out, seized the door handle…
‘Connor, one final thing…’
He swung back, impatience etched in every line of his body. A different person might’ve found it funny. ‘You and your men are welcome to use the bookshop’s kitchenette and bathroom.’ She gestured to the back of the shop. The facilities upstairs sounded basic at best at the moment—as in nonexistent. ‘I’ll leave the back door unlocked.’
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