Mark splashed cool water over his face and looked up into the mirror, hating the man he saw staring back. He gripped the counter tighter, putting his weight into it, and then grabbed a towel from the rack.
Scout began to whine and paw at his leg. Mark looked down into his big brown eyes and grinned. He needed to get out of this house, take a walk and clear his head. As soon as he grabbed the leash from the hook, Scout began to jump, his big, bushy tail waving with excitement. If only he could please everyone so easily, he thought wryly.
Mark opened the door, and Scout released a loud bark at the sight of Luke, standing on the porch. His grin faded as the dog jumped up on its hind legs and set his paws on his chest. “Someone’s happy to see me,” he remarked, gently coaxing Scout down.
Mark frowned and let Scout off his lead, guiding him down the porch steps and around the side of the house to the fence gate. “Go on, have a good run.” He picked up a ball from the ground and chucked it far. Scout bounded across the lawn for it, and then became distracted by the trail of a scent. Deciding he was good on his own for a while, Mark circled back to the front of the house, where Luke was sitting in an Adirondack chair.
“Beer?”
Luke shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. I’m meeting Grace in an hour. I was passing by on my way home from work; just thought I’d drop in.”
“Long day?” Mark lifted an eyebrow as he settled into the next chair. Across the gravel driveway, the forest was deep and lush. A branch rustled, and a squirrel zipped up a trunk. High above, birds circled and swooped, chirping loudly. It was peaceful here, and remote. He’d chosen this house for those reasons precisely, but more and more, it made him lonely, reminding him of his place in the world—the position he’d so carefully chosen. It was fun to banter with the locals and chat with a date, but at the end of the day, he was alone. He was tired of being alone.
“I had two kids in my office today,” Luke said. “Recess fight. I gave them detention for a week and called their parents.”
Mark stared at him in wonder. “I still can’t picture it. You. School principal.” He chuckled under his breath.
Luke gave a quizzical smile. “What’s so funny about it?”
“I mean, it’s just… so serious. So adult of you.”
Luke tipped his chin. “I’m thirty-one years old, Mark. Hell, I’m old enough to be the father of most of the kids at the school. We both are.”
Mark’s gut knotted and he grew silent, choosing to focus on the forest again. “Think you and Grace will have kids soon?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.
“Hopefully,” Luke said. “I’m counting on you to be the fun uncle, so to speak. Between my sisters and Grace’s sisters, any child of ours will most likely be spoiled rotten.” He pretended to be annoyed by this, but Mark could see it pleased him to no end.
“You can count on me,” Mark said. He frowned, considering the implications of his words. He’d never said that to the one person who needed to hear it the most. When she needed to hear it.
Luke would make a great father, a loyal, invested father. The kind of father a kid deserved. He gritted his teeth, wondering if the same could be true of himself. If he would have been the man that Anna needed him to be in the end—if he would have been the man their child deserved.
Anna had worried he’d run, just as he had with her. It was his father who ran—not him. Not anymore.
“Did Grace decide on her maid of honor yet?” Mark asked, shifting the conversation.
Luke shot him a glance, his mouth twitching. “Anna.”
Arm in arm down the aisle with Anna. Wasn’t there some kind of formal dance required of them, too? “She’s not going to be happy about putting up with me all night,” Mark grunted.
Luke arched a brow in interest. “What did you do?”
Mark shrugged. “I blew it.”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “Then or now?”
“Both,” Mark said grimly.
Luke leaned in. “You love her?”
“What?” Mark pulled back in his chair. “You know I don’t believe in that crap.”
Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Then why’d you push me to get back together with Grace?”
“Well, that’s different. That’s you.” Mark let out a long breath, wishing Luke would drop it.
“You knew I’d be happier once I gave my relationship a second chance.”
Mark drummed his fingers against the arm of his deck chair. “Are you telling me I’ll be happier if I do the same?” His gut knew the answer, but he needed confirmation.
Luke shrugged. “Unless living in this house all by yourself is more fun.”
“Hey, I have Scout,” Mark pointed out, only half serious.
“The day you got that dog, I gave you one year.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mark demanded.
His cousin looked at him squarely. “Face it, Mark. You don’t want to be alone.”
Mark felt his lips thin. No. He didn’t.
He shifted in his chair, not knowing how to answer that. Of course he had feelings for Anna. He always had. But it didn’t mean he should act on them. He never should have acted on them. He’d done exactly what he’d hoped to avoid. He’d gone and hurt her again. “I have an opportunity to leave town. Executive chef.”
Luke frowned. “What? Would you really go?”
“A week ago I would have said no.” Mark shrugged, but hearing the words from his cousin’s mouth sent a sharp pang through his chest. “Even yesterday I would have said no,” he said, recalling Anna’s reaction, the hurt in her eyes. No restaurant was worth that. He just hadn’t been able to prove that to her. She hadn’t given him the chance.
He scratched at the stubble on his chin, thinking of the way she’d recoiled last night, cringing at his touch, looking every bit as confused and betrayed as she had that day he’d broken up with her. “There doesn’t seem much reason to stay.”
“Maybe you haven’t given yourself one,” Luke said.
“Maybe I don’t know what I want anymore,” Mark said, but he knew that wasn’t true. He wanted picture frames and memories, and even floral throw pillows, damn it. He wanted a wreath on a door, welcoming him home every night. He wanted laughter and companionship. He wanted to be the father he never had.
He wanted a restaurant of his own. But more than anything, he wanted Anna. He wanted it all. And with nothing left to lose, it was time to go for it.
“Is your mom still playing matchmaker?” he asked, and Luke groaned.
“Yes. Why?” His eyes widened. “No, Mark. Don’t tell me you’re looking for her to set you up—”
“As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I’m hoping she’ll do.”
Luke’s expression turned wary. “All this bouncing from one casual date to the next. Is this really what you want?”
“No,” Mark said, standing. “It’s not.”
Before Luke could reply, he let himself into the house and quickly dialed his aunt’s number. She answered on the second ring, her tone uncertain. No doubt worried he’d mention those rose petals, Mark thought, grinning.
He leaned against the doorjamb. “Aunt Rosemary, do you have a minute?”
“For my favorite nephew?” she purred. “Of course.”
“I was wondering… Are you still matching Anna up on dates?”
Her heard the smile in her voice when she said, “I certainly am.”
His pulse skipped. “Good. Do you think you could arrange something for tomorrow night, say eight o’clock?”
A squeal pealed down the line. “My boy, I thought you’d never ask.”
When his aunt Rosemary set her mind to something, she found a way of making it happen. Mark sucked in a breath and pulled the handle of Piccolino’s, hoping this was a family trait, even if Rosemary wasn’t technically a blood relative.
He checked his watch; he’d purposefully arrived ten minutes late to make sure Anna was already seated. A quick scan of the dining room caused his heart to drum. She was in the corner, her chin cupped in her palm, her long blond hair falling around her shoulders.
He stepped out from behind the plant that blocked her view of the lobby and began walking toward her, his stride in beat with the pounding in his chest. Her eyes narrowed as they met his, and her pretty pink mouth fell open. Quickly, she reached for her menu, but it was too late.
“Hello,” he said lightly, stopping at her table.
She lowered the menu and lifted her chin. Without looking up, she reached for her water, lips pinched.
Mark inhaled sharply. This was going to be more difficult than he’d expected. He set a hand on the back of the chair opposite her, forcing her attention from the paper in her hands.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He gave a small shrug. “Joining you.”
A mirthless chuckle escaped from her lips, and her icy smile lingered. “I’m actually meeting someone, Mark. A date.”
“Ah, but you see,” he said, slipping into the chair. “I am your date.”
Her carefully arranged smile slipped. “Excuse me?”
“I’m your date for this evening,” he replied evenly. Ignoring her wide-eyed stare, he unfolded his napkin and set it in his lap.
“No,” Anna said, giving a low, nervous laugh. “I’m sorry, Mark, but you’re not. I’m waiting for someone, so please, just go.”
His chest tightened at the plea in her tone, at her insistence that he leave, that he was unwanted. Refusing to back down now, he took a sip from his water glass. Anna’s face flared.
“I’m fully aware that you’re waiting for someone. Brown hair, six feet tall, loves fine dining?”
Now her face blanched. “I don’t understand.”
“I asked Aunt Rosemary to arrange this, Anna.” He held her gaze, watching as awareness took hold.
Her lips pinched on a huff. “You shouldn’t have bothered. I have nothing to say to you.”
“Maybe not,” he said. “But I have a lot to say to you.”
“Mark. Please. We’ve said everything that needs to be said.” She pressed her mouth tight and set her menu on the table. “Just… go.”
Go. It was what he did best. He could practically hear her thinking the sentiment. “Not until you’ve heard what I’ve come to say.”
Her lashes fluttered, but her gaze remained lowered. Mark clenched the napkin in his lap, hating the slight drop of her shoulders, the rise and fall of her breath. He’d done this to her—not once, but twice now—and he never wanted to see her like this again.
“I told you,” she said through gritted teeth. “There’s nothing left to say, Mark.”
Mark cast a fleeting look around the room, noticing the other diners, who laughed over the table, sipped wine, and chatted happily. He dragged his attention back to Anna, at the frown on her pretty face, and he suddenly felt like the biggest jerk on the planet. She fidgeted with an earring, blinking rapidly at the tablecloth, her cheekbones stained with pink dots.
She’d gotten dressed up in a simple black dress with thin straps—she’d put time into her evening, into the hope of moving on, putting distance between them.
He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought this would be the only way… that you’d be forced to hear me out.” He set the napkin on the table. “I’ll go if that’s what you really want. I won’t bother you again. But just so you know, I don’t regret the past few weeks. Even if you hate me, and even if you go back to ignoring me for the next six years, I’m glad we had a little more time together. I love you, Anna. I always did. Hell, maybe I always will. And if it will make it easier on you for me to walk away right now, that’s what I’ll do. I only want the best for you. That’s all I ever wanted.”
He pushed back his chair and stood, allowing himself one last look at the only girl he’d ever dared to love, and then he closed his eyes, on their past, on any chance of a future, and turned to go.
His breath caught as her fingers laced around his wrist. Her voice was so low; he almost believed he’d imagined it.
“Wait,” she said.
Anna’s heart was doing jumping jacks. The napkin in her lap was twisted and squeezed, and for a fleeting moment she wished they were at the pub, so she could shred and rip the paper in her hands instead of anxiously tugging at the square of cloth.
He was watching her over the table, his eyes dark, his mouth a thin, grim line, and everything she’d told herself these past few days, every emotion she’d tried to banish came tumbling back. After everything they’d been through, he still had a way of looking at her that made her knees go weak and her heart start to flutter.
She took a sip of her water, checking herself. This was Mark. Typical Mark. Mark flitted. Mark flirted. Mark ran.
But Mark never came back. Until today. And Mark never said I love you.
“I’m not leaving town,” he said, and she hated the part of her that perked up at this bit of information. So he wasn’t leaving; it didn’t change a thing. She and Mark were not meant to be.
She nodded slowly. “So you’re going to continue running the diner?” Why did she ask, why did she care? This was awkward at best. People surrounded them, a waitress stopped to offer a bread basket. He’d cornered her, damn it, and Rosemary had allowed it!
She knew she shouldn’t have agreed to this, but then Rosemary had to go and guilt trip her about all the help she’d given Jane, and how nice Brian had turned out to be, and a part of Anna—a small, secret part of her—thought that if she just went out tonight, she would be one step closer to getting over Mark for good.
Instead, she was face-to-face with the one man who had stolen her heart, and who unfortunately still had it.
“My mom’s going to come back to Hastings,” Mark volunteered. “I’m still working on my next plan.”
Of course. Typical.
Mark slid a piece of paper across the table. Anna frowned. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Reluctantly, she took the letter, telling herself she should just hand it back, not feed into this a second longer. Curiosity got the better of her, though, and she slid her finger under the seal and removed the single sheet of paper tucked inside. She scanned it quickly, her brow furrowing. “What is this?”
“It’s the lease to the old stationery store. It’s yours.”
Anna’s pulse skipped, and she did a miserable job of hiding her shock. Mark stared at her hopefully from across the table, but Anna just shook her head. It didn’t change a damn thing.
She handed the letter back to him, but he didn’t reach for it. “Take it. Please.”
“No. I want you to have it.”
She set the envelope on the table between them. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do.” She sighed, feeling weary. “Let’s just… be civil, Mark. I can’t bear to live like we have for the past few years.”
“Neither can I.” Mark reached across the table and grabbed her hand, holding it tighter in his grip when she tried to pull away. “I don’t want to walk by you and pretend I don’t see you. I don’t want to act like we never meant anything to each other. Like we still don’t.”
“Mark—”
“Hear me out,” he whispered. “I don’t want to live like we have all these years either. I… don’t want to live another day without you.”
She was aware that she was holding her breath, and she released it now, in a small puff, and snatched her hand back, bringing it to the other, safe in her lap. She blinked quickly, trying to compose herself, trying not to see the sincerity in his eyes. Trying not to believe a word he was saying.
Pushing him away was the only way to protect herself from him, from those painful memories, from the disappointment only he could bring. But oh, she didn’t want to push him away anymore.
“I wasn’t ready back then, Anna. I won’t try to deny it. You were the real deal, the girl I saw an entire future with. And I was scared of how that made me feel. I was scared that I wouldn’t live up to it somehow. That we’d let each other down.” He paused. “Instead, I let you down.”
“How do I know it won’t be the same this time around?”
Mark shrugged. “I know you’re scared. I am, too. You gave me your heart, Anna, and you trusted me with it. And now… I’m giving you mine. I love you, Anna. I always did. Nothing can change that.”
“Nothing could,” she said. No matter what had happened, one thing was constant over time. Her feelings for him had never faded, even when she’d hoped they would.
“I want you to have your dream restaurant, Anna. I want you to have all the dreams I stole from you.”
She glanced down at the envelope. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even have the money for the renovation. I’d never get a loan for it in time.”
“No, but I could,” Mark replied evenly, and Anna darted her eyes to his. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “What do you say, Anna? Do you think it’s too late for our plan?”
A hot tear rolled down her cheek and she didn’t bother brushing it away. “But the location. Your father’s old restaurant. It’s—”
He gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s where I was meant to be, Anna. It just took me a long time to figure that out.”
“I guess we both needed time,” she admitted.
“That,” Mark grinned. “And Rosemary.”
She was smiling, laughing through her tears, and she didn’t care who saw. Let them know, let all of Briar Creek know that there was a reason for their silence, and a reason for it to be finally, permanently, forever broken.