Open Your Heart (Kings Grove #4) - Delancey Stewart Page 0,53

happened. He wouldn’t meet my gaze, and I stood before him feeling abandoned. “Sorry,” he said, stepping back. “I told myself I wasn’t going to let that happen again.”

“No, it was… why?” I asked. “Why can’t that happen again?”

He shook his head. “I told you before. It’s just not a good idea. And you’re leaving anyway. It’ll just complicate things.”

It had been several weeks since I’d heard from Theo in Austin, and though I’d initially worried I might be leaving earlier than expected, now I was starting to worry he’d changed his mind altogether. But I didn’t tell Cam any of that. I let emotion drive my words instead.

“You’re being ridiculous. We’re attracted to each other. We’re not good at pretending otherwise, and I don’t see any reason to. It’s hard for me to be around you, pretending there’s nothing going on. It would make more sense to just face the attraction and see where it leads us.”

His eyes glowed in the light of the fire. “It won’t go anywhere good,” he said. “I already told you I don’t have luck in relationships, and it’s better for you if we just ignore this…whatever this is.”

“That’s not really my style,” I told him, beginning to feel more angry than anything else. “And I think your ‘curse’ is complete bunk. You know what I think it actually is?” I was goading him, almost wishing he would get angry. Any emotion would be better than the resigned attitude he had now.

“What?”

“I think you’re scared. I think you’ve been hurt—by people, by life—and I think you’re afraid to try again. Because the truth is, there’s always the chance you’ll get hurt.”

He let out a long breath but didn’t answer.

“It’s a crappy way to live,” I told him.

His eyes dropped, and I wondered if I’d pushed too far. Part of me wanted to step toward him, take him in my arms and tell him it was all right. But I was still angry, and hurt, and so I stepped away instead.

“Good night,” I said, walking away and leaving him there with his denial and fear for company.

Chapter 13

CAMERON

Maddie was beginning to make a habit of dropping by the work site any time she was headed into or out of town for work at the diner. The fact that we’d hit a major glitch with the installation of the retractable ceiling wasn’t helping her stress levels as we headed into the end of July and neared her wedding month. We were at least two weeks behind schedule and had been that way for almost two weeks, and between Maddie’s constant questioning and my own distraction, I didn’t have high hopes it would be done in time.

“We could still do it out here,” Chance was saying to Maddie as I arrived one morning with the wedding just a few weeks out. “But we’d have to run the food up from the Inn.”

“So it’ll be cold by the time anyone eats,” Maddie said, barely containing her irritation. “Why can’t we cook up here, again?”

“We ran into trouble getting the park service to approve the propane tanks, and Anthony refuses to consider electric stoves.”

“You can’t have a high end restaurant without gas stoves,” Maddie agreed, shaking her head. “I don’t blame him.”

“I told him we could set up microwaves back there, reheat stuff when it gets up here,” I told her, which earned me dirty looks from both Chance and my sister. Evidently microwaved wedding reception food was not a thing. I wouldn’t know. I’d eloped.

“The day really isn’t about the food anyway, Mads,” I told her, trying to make her feel better.

Her hands were fisted at her sides and her cheeks were pink. “It’s not just that—it just feels like one thing on top of another, you know?”

“What else?”

“I visited Dad yesterday. He yelled at Connor and kept asking me where Jeremy was. I don’t think he’ll understand what’s going on if we bring him to the wedding.” Her face crumpled and I pulled my sister into my arms. Losing our father slowly was almost more painful than losing loved ones suddenly could be.

“I’m sorry, Mads. I’ll go see him this week, see if maybe that was just a fluke.”

She shook her head into my chest. “They said he’s been declining, that he has fewer lucid days.”

I clutched her a little tighter, thinking about the nearing day when I’d lose one more person I loved. Dad might not have been quite himself for a while, but he was