Chapter 11

 

 

 

Afton

 

 

I watch as Luke slides a puzzle piece across the table toward several others. His hands are large. I remember how it felt to hold onto one as I raced out of the church and away from Warren.

I felt alive in a way I never had before, even though I was running into the unknown with a stranger.

“So your best friend and your brother live upstairs?” Luke glances at me. “I rang the bell there before I tried your door.”

I smile, thinking about what Nelson’s reaction would have been if he had opened the door to find Luke on his stoop.

I’m sure he would have invited him in and made him a coffee.

He did that when a woman knocked on his door asking about a pot of flowers that sits atop the steps. They spent more than an hour together talking about gardening. She still pops by from time to time to say hi to him and Joel.

My brother has a big heart.

“It’s been great living so close to them,” I confess. “We spend a lot of time together.”

He snaps two puzzle pieces together. “I live alone.”

That feels like an invitation to ask about Brooklyn, but I don’t do it. I can’t push him to talk about his ex if I’m uncomfortable talking about mine.

“I’m renting an apartment that belongs to my oldest brother,” he goes on, “Brooklyn and I lived there together for awhile before things ended.”

Since he stepped into the conversation, I follow. “When did things end?”

He studies my face. “The last time was two months ago.”

The last time.

“You broke up more than once?” I rest my hands on the table.

He nods. “I lost track of how many times. We met in high school. Things were good some of the time; not so good the rest of the time.”

I considered breaking up with Warren a couple of different times, but I always convinced myself that he was good for me.

Looking back, I wish I had paid more attention to all the doubts I had.

“She married one of my friends.” He sighs. “It came out of nowhere.”

That has to sting.

“I’m sorry,” I offer because I don’t have anything else.

A smile tugs on the corners of his lips. “I’m sorry that I ran into the wrong church, Afton.”

“I’m not,” I say honestly.

His dark brows pinch together. “You’re not?”

I shrug. “No.”

“Did something happen the day of your wedding?” He leans back in his chair. “I mean something other than me ruining it?”

“You didn’t ruin it, Luke,” I reassure him. “I was questioning whether I was doing the right thing before you showed up. When you objected, I took that as fate stepping in to tell me to get out of there.”

“Your ex-fiancé probably wants to wring my neck.”

I try to conjure up an image of Warren with his hands wrapped around Luke’s neck, but I can’t. Warren is a gentle soul. If he finds a spider in his apartment, he carries it outside to safety. 

“I need to sit down and explain to him what happened,” I say softly.

“How long were you two together?”

I take a sip of water. “We’ve known each other for ten years but didn’t get together until a couple of years ago.”

“Ten years?” He eyes me. “Did you meet in high school too? Like Brooklyn and I did?”

My gaze follows the path of his hands as he slides another puzzle piece into place. “Yes. I was sixteen. He was eighteen. He left for college shortly after we met.”

“You’re twenty-six?” Surprise edges his tone.

I glance at his face. “I am.”

He nods sagely. “I’m thirty. Marriage wasn’t on my radar when I was twenty-six.”

“Is it now?”

I cringe when I realize I asked that. The answer is blatantly obvious since he tried to stop his ex from marrying someone else. A man wouldn’t be that determined to stop a wedding if he wasn’t ready to take the plunge himself.

“I thought it was.” He exhales in a rush. “I thought if I got to the church in time to stop Brooklyn from marrying Dennis that she’d accept my proposal.”

“You believe she still loves you?”

His hand drops to his side. “We’ve been through a lot together. Our bond is strong.”

That’s not a direct answer to my question, but I sense it’s all he’s willing to share.

I glance at the empty glass in front of him. “Do you want more water?”

He taps his palm on the table. “I should get going.”

I push back to stand. “I’ll see you out.”

“If you need more help with the puzzle, my schedule is wide open for the next three days.”

I’m not the best at reading between the lines, but I’ll take the bait I think he’s offering. “Why don’t you come by tomorrow night around eight? I’ll have some food ready.”

“I can bring something to eat.”

If Joel has his way, we’ll spend much of tomorrow at Nova photographing food that the owner and chef, Tyler Monroe, wants featured in his new cookbook. If that doesn’t happen, there are always a few clients looking to us to prepare and photograph something they can feature on their social media profiles.

“There’s an excellent chance that I’ll be cooking something for someone tomorrow so I can take a picture of it.” I let out a light laugh. “I can’t say for certain what will be on the menu, but I promise it’ll be delicious.”

“In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow night, Afton.”