Ready to Run

by Lauren Layne

  “I already did,” she called after his retreating back.

  He turned around. “What?”

  She reached for the handle and opened the door of her rental car. “I already told my bosses not to bring Eva here—and that if they did, I wanted no part of it.”

  He stared at her hard. “When?”

  “An hour ago. It’s what I came to tell you. Before you dropped your little bombshell,” she said pointedly.

  His eyes flared, realization flickering over his face. “Why? Why would you do that?”

  She held his gaze for a long moment. “Figure it out, Luke. Figure it out.”

  Jordan got into her car and drove away, and only when she was out of his sight did she let the tears come.

  They didn’t let up until she got to the airport.

  Chapter 26

  ONE WEEK LATER

  “What do you mean she’s gone?” Luke snapped irritably at Stacey.

  “Well,” Stacey said, mixing the salad and handing him the bowl to take to the dining table. “I mean gone in that her lease on the house was up last weekend. I asked if she wanted to renew; she said no. And she moved out. Hence, gone. Not coming back.”

  Luke ignored the bowl, his scowl demanding more answers, but she merely shoved it at his chest, forcing him to take hold of it.

  “Save your glare,” she said, picking up a lingering carrot from the cutting board and pointing it at him before taking a bite. “I didn’t chase her away.”

  “I didn’t either,” he grumbled.

  “You did, kind of,” Isobel said, coming up beside him and resting her cheek on his shoulder in a rare show of physical affection.

  He glanced down at her orange head. “You too?”

  She gazed at him blandly as she straightened and picked an olive out of the salad. “You really do know nothing about women.”

  He gave her a look and she grinned, patting his shoulder. “Seriously, though, do you think everyone’s not blaming you for Jordan-gate?”

  “It has a name?”

  “Are you kidding?” Stacey said. “It was the most interesting thing to happen to this town since some asshole left three different women at the altar.”

  “I’m so glad I accepted this dinner invitation,” Luke muttered. “What’s next, tar and feathering?”

  “Don’t change the subject,” Isobel said as they settled around Stacey’s cozy dining room table. “You ran Jordan out of town. Why?”

  Isobel’s tone was light, but it held the directness she was known for, the willingness to say what nobody else had quite had the courage to for the past few days—that he’d screwed up royally.

  Even his sister had been uncharacteristically gentle, perhaps mistakenly assuming he was still reeling from the rumors that Eva was in talks with CBC to do her own show.

  Screw Eva.

  He didn’t know when he’d figured it out, but he realized now that he hadn’t cared about her in a long time. Even more important, he realized that he had forgiven her. Not so much because she deserved it, but because it was behind him and not worth caring about.

  If anything, he was embarrassed that he hadn’t seen Eva for what she really was, when so many of the people closest to him obviously had.

  He’d forgiven Gil too and hoped his friend knew it, wherever he was.

  Gil wasn’t coming back. Neither was Eva—God willing.

  Jordan, though…

  “Where’d she go?” Luke asked, as Stacey opened a bottle of wine he didn’t want.

  She looked up. “What?”

  “Jordan. Where’d she go?”

  “I have no idea,” she said, holding his gaze. “Back home, I imagine.”

  Home.

  That felt wrong. It was wrong.

  Home wasn’t New York.

  Home was…with him?

  The thought felt both ridiculous—he’d just met her—and yet not ridiculous at all.

  “You’re so dumb,” Isobel muttered, shoving in a mouthful of lettuce.

  Stacey gave her a chastising look, then turned a gentle gaze toward Luke. “Lukey—”

  He held up a hand to stop his ex, his attention fixed on the ever-practical Isobel. “What would you do?”

  She paused in her chewing, startled since she usually left the talking to the more-chatty Stacey. “What?”

  “If you’d blown things with Stacey, if she’d left town. What would you do?”

  “Oh boy,” Stacey muttered under her breath.

  Isobel leaned back in her chair, wiped her mouth with a napkin as she studied Luke. “Well, it depends. How’d you leave things with her?”

  Luke swallowed. “An argument. I may or may not have accused her of sleeping with me so that I’d be less pissed about the Eva thing.”

  “Oh, Isobel’s right,” Stacey breathed. “You are so dumb.”

  Isobel and Luke both ignored her.

  “Okay, so after all of that, is there any possible reason she’d stay in Lucky Hollow?” Isobel asked calmly.

  Luke nodded, but Isobel was already shaking her head. “Not good enough. Say it out loud.”

  He rolled his eyes to cover the fact that his hands felt slightly clammy. “Yes, she had a reason to stay in town.”

  “Which was…” Isobel said, rolling her finger for him to continue.

  Luke swallowed. “I wanted her to.”

  “Why?”

  He glared at her, but she merely stared back. Took a sip of wine and waited.

  “I care about her,” Luke said, his voice a little rough. “I feel like there might have been something important there.”

  “Eh.” Isobel picked up her fork. “It’s not great, but it’s a start.”

  Luke stared at her. “That’s it? That’s your big advice?”

  “Nah.” Isobel ate a piece of cucumber. “My advice is to practice that speech. It needs to be a hell of a lot better if you want her back. Now eat your damn salad.”

  Luke picked up his fork, though he wasn’t at all hungry.

  Isobel was right. He did need to get a better speech if he wanted to have a chance with Jordan.

  But the far more important factor…

  He had to find her first.

  Chapter 27

  Keaton, Kansas, had changed.

  Jordan supposed she should have expected that, and to some degree, she’d been prepared. She’d figured maybe the old pizza place that had been a standard for after high school sporting events might have changed hands—hopefully to a kitchen staff that actually bothered to melt the cheese. She’d figured there was a decent chance that a Panera or Starbucks had made its way into town. Or that the used-book shop that was unpopular even twenty years ago might have closed its doors.

  What Jordan wasn’t prepared for, however, was that the town felt completely shut down and—if she was being honest—a little sad.

  The pizza place wasn’t a pizza place anymore—it wasn’t anything but a boarded-up building. Around the corner, there was a tired-looking Burger King. The bookstore was now a tattoo parlor, and a sketchy-looking one at that.

  And still, even with all of the changes, the memories hit her hard, although…they were not unwelcome.

  Instead of steeling herself against the pain, she welcomed it. Welcomed the memory of sniffing all the perfumes at the corner drugstore while her mom picked up her father’s heartburn prescription. Welcomed the memory of flirting with Danny Galloway outside the bookstore. Remembered making snow angels in the middle of the road during a particularly epic snowstorm when the schools had been closed and fire trucks blocked off the main drag so that kids could play.

  She remembered her dad teaching her to drive on the back roads, remembered gossiping with her girlfriends over pineapple pizza and Diet Coke, remembered the way even the grumpiest of store owners went all out with twinkle lights at Christmastime.

  She remembered, and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t hurt. It was simply…a part of her.

  Nobody paid her an
y attention, and that was just fine. Jordan hadn’t told anyone she was coming, but, then, her best girlfriends weren’t even here anymore. A couple of them had moved to Des Moines, another to Omaha.

  There were a handful of casual childhood friends still in town, but she didn’t really keep in touch with anyone beyond the usual Congrats! comment on Facebook posts about marriages and babies.

  And Jordan’s spontaneous trip to Keaton wasn’t about socializing. It was about…

  Well, heck. She wasn’t even sure.

  She’d known within only minutes of arriving in New York that she needed to close this door to her past. To let her memories of this small town be comfortable rather than like the painful ones she ran away from.

  Jordan thanked the bored-looking barista for the coffee and walked out into the rainy afternoon. She made a conscious effort not to wince as she took a sip of the latte.

  It was…not good.

  But she’d wanted something warm—something to hold—as she made her next stop, and a familiar vanilla latte had seemed as good as anything.

  The drive was shorter than she remembered. Or maybe it was just over before she was ready to face what lay ahead.

  Jordan breathed deeply as she took a left onto the familiar gravel road. When Jordan was growing up, the Carpenters had only one neighbor. Mrs. Hadey had been cranky, and a little mean, but Jordan’s parents always said she was merely lonely and had made a big deal of buying several jars of Mrs. Hadey’s homemade jam.

  Jordan slowed a little as she passed the small yellow farmhouse across the way, which had survived the tornado that her house had not. It had boarded-up windows, the paint was chipped and faded, and the aged FOR SALE sign indicated that it had probably been vacant for quite a while.

  She inhaled, held her breath for several seconds, then slowly forced her car forward, farther down the drive, until she got to…

  Nothingness.

  It was the emptiness that broke her, a wrenching sob tearing out of her as she gazed at the spot where her home had once been.

  Here’s where the memories would hurt, she realized. Here was the hard part. Remembering not just the joy of Christmas morning as a child but the agony of the moment she realized there’d be no more Christmas mornings with her family. Remembering the casual family dinners she’d taken for granted, and, oh, what she wouldn’t give to go back in time and have her mom snap at her to eat her green beans, just one more time. She wanted it all. The laughter, the quiet moments, even the fights.

  One more day. That’s all she wanted.

  She wouldn’t get it, but it was okay to want it. A little bit of pain was better than being hollow.

  There were regrets, of course, and she let those in. Not just about what had happened but that there was no new life in this spot. There should be. It shouldn’t still be the pile of rubble it had been on that awful day when the police car had driven her to her house—or what was left of it.

  If only her family had lived close enough to town to hear the tornado warnings, if only they had paid attention to the radio like they were supposed to…

  But they hadn’t. And they were gone, all three of them, killed by the worst tornado that had hit Kansas in years. After the tornado, Jordan had moved in with her aging uncle. She’d lived with him until her high school graduation a few months later, and he’d taken care of the cleanup after the disaster, as she hadn’t been able to bring herself to be a part of it.

  Once she turned eighteen, it had been up to her what to do with the property. A local realtor put it up for sale at her request, but even back then, a patch of not-great farmland that far out of town hadn’t held much appeal. Even less now.

  Her brain had known all of this, but seeing it—feeling it—was something else entirely.

  For a second she wanted nothing more than to turn the car around, drive straight to the airport, and get back to New York. To throw herself into the bustle and general chaos of city life and anything that would help her avoid the pain.

  But that wasn’t why she was here—she was tired of avoidance. She wanted acceptance and peace.

  And if that was too much ask, then at least closure. When she’d arrived in Lucky Hollow, she’d been ready to take swings at Luke for running away—from his fiancées, from big weddings, from commitment.

  But somewhere along the line she’d realized that she was the one who was running. She’d run headlong away from the painful loss of her family, and maybe that was okay. She’d been seventeen. But she was thirty now. And though on paper she didn’t scream flight risk—she’d had the same job and apartment for a couple of years, even a couple of long-term boyfriends along the way—her heart knew that she’d never settled down, not really.

  Never allowed herself to get too attached to anyone or anything. She knew too well that you could lose it all in an instant.

  Physically, she’d been perfectly stable.

  Emotionally, she’d always had one foot out the door.

  And wouldn’t you figure, the first time she actually wanted to put her heart on the line, to belong to a small town again, she’d been rejected.

  Or not rejected so much as…ignored.

  Jordan forced herself out of the car and made it only a few steps before she lowered herself to the ground, ignoring the fact that it was wet, ignoring that the damp air was making her hair frizz, the drizzle causing drops of water to run over her cheeks.

  Or maybe that was her tears; she didn’t even know.

  Admittedly, she hadn’t answered Luke’s phone calls, but she couldn’t stop hearing his careless dismissal of her, couldn’t stop reliving the moment where she realized her feelings were entirely one-sided.

  Jordan might be willing to put her heart out there, but he hadn’t been even close to offering her his. She still wasn’t sure that he’d ever have told her about Eva and Gil, that he’d ever trusted her, not really.

  One thing was clear. Luke Elliott wasn’t having forever kind of thoughts with her. Annoyingly, she wasn’t even sure she could blame him for being wary.

  He’d been hurt by women he cared about. Three times. She didn’t blame him for not being able to come back from that, but man did she want him to. She wanted to be worth the risk.

  Jordan pulled both knees up, wrapped her arms around her legs, and rested her chin as she stared at the space where her home had been.

  She let herself remember. The way she and her brother had been impossible to get out of bed every morning, except for Christmas, when they’d been up before the sun.

  Remembered the way her mom had carefully curled her hair before her first dance pageant and again, years later, before her first high school dance.

  The way her dad had been gruff but kind, surprising Jordan and her brother with a treat whenever he’d gone into the big town on errands.

  The wind picked up a little, as did the rain, but Jordan barely noticed. Heck, she was so lost in her own memories that she hardly registered the sound of a vehicle coming down the gravel path, until the slam of a car door had her bolting upright, scrambling to her feet.

  Her heart pounded. There was no reason for anyone to come out this way; it was nothing but overgrown land….

  It took her eyes a full thirty seconds to register what she was seeing.

  Luke Elliott was walking toward her.

  She wouldn’t have believed it was him, but everything about him was familiar. The jeans, the boots. He wore the usual T-shirt, although he’d layered them, a long sleeve white one beneath a light-blue short-sleeved shirt she’d seen dozens of times. Heck, she was pretty sure she’d worn that one on a couple of mornings. Even the damn backward cap made her heart flip a little.

  The recognition was more than that, though. More than the usual attire and familiar half smile.

  Her heart recognized him—her soul knew this man, because somehow he’d wiggled inside her and occupied every corner of her that mattered.

  Luke stopped in front of her, hands shoved in his back p
ockets.

  “How’d you find me?”

  He winced. “How creepy is it if I tell you I saw you in town? Then followed you out here?”

  She laughed. “Seriously? Um, very creepy.”

  His smile was hesitant. “I saw you go into the coffee shop. Tried to work up the courage to approach you, but you’d already driven away. I followed. When I figured—guessed—where you were going…” He looked over her shoulder. “I thought you needed a bit of time. I parked out on the main road.”

  She took this all in. The fact that he cared enough to come after her and yet knew her enough to let her have her solitude when she most needed it.

  “How the heck did you know I was in Keaton, Kansas? If you say it was Simon, I’ll kill him.”

  “Oh, trust me, I’d have hunted him down if I had to. But I started at your workplace.” Luke’s eyes came back to hers. “Only, turns out it’s not your workplace anymore.”

  She gave a nervous smile. “Surprise.”

  He didn’t smile back. “I spoke with Raven—who, by the way, very scary, even on the phone. She irritably informed me that you’d given your two weeks’ notice…the day you learned they were moving forward with the Eva story line.”

  Jordan crossed her arms. “So?”

  He merely looked at her and waited, not seeming to care that they were both getting damper by the minute.

  She shoved her messy hair out of her face. “Okay, fine. I decided that that world wasn’t something I wanted to be a part of. That I didn’t want to watch people—good people—have their lives turned upside down for the sake of ratings or a promotion.”

  Luke lifted a hand and rubbed it over his mouth as he studied her. “Had nothing to do with me, huh?”

  She shrugged, remembering his assessment of her. The way it had stung. “I’m too smart to get hung up on a guy who’s still hung up on his ex’s betrayal.”

  He looked away, then back again. “Well, this is the way I see it, City. I wasn’t over her. Or, rather, I hadn’t let go of what happened with her and Gil. Or maybe it was that I never had a chance to make it right with Gil before he died. I’ve been locked in a loop of memories, none of them good….”