Currant Creek Valley - By RaeAnne Thayne Page 0,93

new start somewhere else. Easier than it would be for you.”

She felt cold, suddenly, as if all the heat in the world had been sucked away, and then it rushed back, scorching through her like a brush fire. He would do that, for her? Pick up his son and walk away from the life he had spent these past months building so carefully?

She didn’t know what to say, what to do. Suddenly she was angry at him, furious that he would even make such an offer.

“You...you can’t just leave. You have a business here. A house.”

“You have a restaurant. And also a house,” he pointed out. “That’s not stopping you from running away.”

“It’s not the same. I don’t need you to be some kind of martyr for me. How pathetic do you think I am?”

He stared at her. “Where the hell did that come from? I don’t think you’re pathetic at all, but I do think you’re running from me, from what we could have together.”

How could he know that? She closed her eyes, gripping Leo’s leash to keep from bursting into tears. “We don’t have anything together, Sam. We kissed a handful of times. That’s it. For heaven’s sake! You really think I would pack up and change my whole life because of a few kisses?”

“Maybe not. Maybe I’m crazy.”

He was silent and she thought for one blessed moment he was going to give up and return to his house and his son and his life, but he shoved his hands in his back pockets, a funny little smile playing around that expressive mouth.

“No maybe about it. I’m definitely crazy. By the way,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “I’m in love with you. Does that make any kind of a difference?”

All her bluster and bluff seeped away and she could do nothing but stare at him, feeling as if the street beneath her feet had just sunk into Currant Creek. “You are not.”

He laughed roughly. “I’m pretty sure I know my own mind, after thirty-eight years on the planet. I’ve known I loved you for some time now. I’m sorry if it comes as a shock to you.”

Just for a moment, joy bloomed through her like Caroline’s flowers, bright and sunny and glowing with color and life, but harsh reality was a chilling wind that shriveled it like frost-kill.

“You’re not in love with me,” she said through lips that felt as frozen as the rest of her and didn’t seem to want to cooperate. “You might think you are but it’s all part of this fantasy you’ve built up in your head, that once you move to this perfect little town, you’ll have everything you ever wanted.”

“Oh. Is that what it is?”

“Yes! But you’re wrong. Hope’s Crossing isn’t perfect. People leave. They cheat on each other, they lie, they drink and steal and walk out on their families. They die.”

To her horror, her voice broke on the last word and the tears she had been fighting forever threatened to burst free.

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry.” He looked so wonderful there in the streetlight, big and strong and steady, and she wanted to sink into his arms and never leave. Instead, she forced herself to straighten shoulders that ached with strain.

“It’s not real. You’re not in love with me, Sam.”

“Will you stop saying that? I love you, and I’m not about to stand here in the street and argue about it with you! If I were going to daydream about the perfect woman to fit into this Hope’s Crossing fantasy you think I have, you really think I’d pick a smart-ass chef who fights me at every step and who’s too damn stubborn to see what’s right in front of her?”

He was angry. Heat flared in his eyes, and his jaw had hardened. He looked every inch a soldier—big, tough, scary.

“I love you,” he said once more, and she could see he was fighting to tamp down his temper. “Maybe if I say it enough times you’ll finally believe me.”

She had no choice, she realized, gripping Leo’s leash so tightly she could feel the imprint of it on her palm. She had to tell him. Everything. Every terrible detail. Then he would finally see she wasn’t the kind of woman who deserved him.

“You can’t love me, Sam. You don’t even know me.”

“I think I know you better than anybody.”

“Not this.”

She drew in a ragged breath that seemed to slice her lungs and blurted out the words she had never spoken