Love In Secrets (Love Distilled #3) - Scarlett Cole Page 0,75

wrong place, because no amount of wishful thinking would fill the gap around the edges of her heart.

And, damn, she was about to cry in the middle of the Denver airport drop-off area. Burying her head against his chest, savoring the scent of him, the warmth of him, the feel of his skin against hers one last time, she breathed deeply, attempting to calm herself.

“I love you, Cass. But you need to go now. You can’t stand here, like there’s a chance you’re going to change your mind. Because we both know you aren’t.”

Cass stepped back from him. “That’s unfair.”

“No, love. I’m being honest. Every second I stand here, I’m trying to think of the right combination of words to say to get you to come back home with me. And you know you’re not going to, no matter what I say. I could get in the truck and drive away, but I can’t until you’re safely in the terminal. And, I know you think that’s old-fashioned of me, but in the same breath, I know you love the chivalry of it. A contradiction of yours I love and will miss. So, help me out. Unless you’re honestly standing here because you have a reason to stay, you need to go.”

Tears slipped onto her cheek and she brushed them away with the back of her hand. She nodded and stepped up on her toes, kissing his cheek chastely.

Jake thrust his hand around the back of her neck, taking hold of a handful of her hair for the last time, and pulled her to him. When his lips met hers, she could feel everything he was feeling. Every ounce of love, and anger, and hurt filtered from his mouth to hers. Words unspoken; emotions felt.

Yet, as quickly as he grabbed her, he released her.

Cassie let out a small gasp and pressed her fingers to her lips. Without another word, she grabbed her luggage from the sidewalk and hurried into the terminal without looking back.

Because one more glance of him, and she’d have stayed.

Stricken.

It was a word Jake never had much of an opportunity to consider.

But he felt it down to his bones.

He couldn’t face the distillery. And fuck if he could find it in himself to care that the production would get farther and farther behind if he didn’t go and get the runs started.

Instead, he climbed into the truck and headed to the one person who might have a fleeting chance of understanding what he was going through. Forty minutes later, thanks to gnarly traffic he had neither the time nor patience to deal with, he stepped out of the truck.

“You got single malt?” he asked Anders as he brushed past him into the home he shared with Liv.

Without waiting for Anders to respond, he wandered over to the bar area. Perfect. A Macallan. Twenty-five years old, and age was golden when it came to single malt.

Anders’s footsteps followed him into the formal living room. “You know it’s only ten in the morning, right?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” He held the bottle toward Anders, waiting for his okay. He might be in a mood fouler than a sewage drain, but he wasn’t a dick.

Anders nodded. “My house is your house.”

Jake poured a solid two fingers of whiskey into one of the cut crystal glasses, then swallowed fifty percent of it in one gulp. It burned deliciously down his gut. Yeah, a few more of those and some of the unholy pain in his body might dissipate. Or at least he’d kill any nerves that might tell him he was still hurting.

He topped up the glass again, then carried the bottle and his glass to the sofa and fell into it.

“I take it you dropped Cassie off?”

Anders took the chair opposite. Jake hadn’t really paid him any notice when he arrived, but Anders was sweating and wearing sports gear. There was a towel draped around his neck, and he sipped on a bottle of water.

“If you need to go carry on with your workout, don’t let me stop you,” he replied, ignoring the question about Cassie.

Anders flopped back in the chair. “I’d finished my workout and was wrapping up my stretches.” He eyed Jake carefully as Jake poured himself more whiskey. “You heading over to the distillery? You might want to go easy on that. Heavy machinery, et cetera.”

Jake huffed. “Fuck it. I’m not going in today. For once in my fucking life, I’m doing what I want to on