Page 85 of Love You More

This is what I get for taking my eye off the ball and allowing my heart out of its iron cage for once in the last two years.

Stupid. I knew this, and yet I allowed it to happen.

You didn’t have a choice.

No, Ruby was right. I always have a choice, and this time, I made the wrong one. Chose the beautiful copper hair instead of logic. Chose her fiery sass over knowledge of what she’d do to my heart.

There’s a reason I don’t walk around the property like this. It’s oppressively beautiful. The landscapers and groundskeepers have made sure of it. They’ve pruned every plum tree just so, fertilized them so they bloom late into spring and early summer. They’ve ensured that the lavender looks like it’s growing wild when every plant has been trained into submission and has its place.

It’s no place for a bruised ego or a smashed heart.

I have both, and I want neither.

And yet, I am a masochist, I guess, because the first place I want to come today is the path where I felt something shift. I felt Ruby’s resistance give way. I felt her give up on her excuses and careful tending of her emotions. I felt her falling for me.

It was unmistakable because it mirrored the exact way I felt for her. Different from how I’d ever felt for a woman. The kind of inkling that this could be the permanent kind of love.

Fuck my stupid inklings.

“Slow down.”

At first, I think it’s my brain talking to me because I’ve actually lost it, and it needs to yell in real time in order for me to do the right thing.

But it’s Archer, jogging up the path behind me. I’m not blocking his way, so he can easily pass me, but instead, he drops his pace to match the power walking I’m doing. “Why’d you stop?” I ask, surprised that I’m out of breath from walking.

“Because you’re chewing up the path like you’re doing everything possible not to run, and it’s painful to watch.”

I snort a non-laugh. “I’m not a runner.”

“You might want to take it up. Would be easier on your body than this weird race walk you’ve got going.”

I expect him to resume jogging now that he’s done criticizing me, but he slows his walking pace even more. Apparently, he’s not going away, so I slow down too.

“What’s up, Archer?” Truthfully, I’m glad to slow down. I hadn’t realized how fast I was moving until now. I’m sweating. The heat prickles my skin.

“Was about to ask you the same. First time I’ve seen you out here since…ever. You finally giving the cardio a try?”

“Not intentionally.”

He huffs a laugh, and I shoot him a look, annoyed that he can find something funny when I’m miserable.

“Ruby? I noticed she hasn’t been here this week.”

“Shit, Archer. Does it really seem like I’m out here on a walk because I want to chitchat about it?” I pick up my pace, which is dumb because he can keep up with me no matter how fast or slow I go.

He shrugs and strides alongside me. It’s not lost on me that he’s not out of breath at all after however many miles he’s already run. Meanwhile, I’m regretting my lack of cardio lately. “I gotta get back on my bike. Start doing hills again,” I mutter.

“Yup.”

“Okay, then. Message received, cardio boy. You can go now.”

He doesn’t. “Not why I stopped.”

Without realizing it, I’ve managed to let him steer me off the path and toward the kitchen behind the tasting room. Where there’s coffee brewing. My heart may be shriveling inside my chest, but the timer on the coffee machine is alive and well.

“Yeah, good call,” I tell him, grabbing two cups. “You done running for the day?”

“I am now.” He pulls out a stool at the bar counter and sits, waiting for me to pour his coffee how he likes it. Milk and sugar.

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