Page 86 of Trouble Walked In

Lizzie started and made a little squeak. One hand fluttered up to her mouth, and she stared at him with wide eyes.

He kept his gaze locked on hers, and this time she didn’t look away. “I want nights on Lookout Point with you. I want to wake up next to you in the Rose Room. I want to go to dive bars and eat burgers and listen to fantastic music with you. I want it all, Lizzie, and I want it with you.”

“No. You don’t. Not really,” Lizzie said. “Your life is the city. It’s travel and lights and music and parties, and there’s no way you’re giving it up for a few vines and an old inn in upstate New York.”

“I’m not giving up anything, and if I was, it wouldn’t be for this inn. It would be foryou. Don’t you get it? I’ve waited for you foryears,and now that we finally have somethingstarted between us, I’m not letting it go. I can run my business from anywhere.”

She looked ready to argue with him. He raised a hand to stop her. “Yes, even from upstate New York. I could run it from this crappy little office right here or the front porch or the backyard. It wouldn’t matter. But it’s not my business I’m talking about here. It’s my life.Ourlives. Together.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “There is noour.Mylife is this inn. I have people here who count on me to keep their legacy alive, and I’m not abandoning this place, or them, to go back to chasing after my sisters or a man the way I did before.”

“I’m not asking you to.” He was shouting now. He couldn’t help it. She was driving him crazy with this slow buildup to something he still didn’t understand. “I want you toshareyour life with me, Lizzie, not give it up. I want you to give us a chance.”

Lizzie crossed her arms. “How do you see this playing out? You come for a weekend here and there, maybe a week at Christmas when the shows are dark? I suppose I’ll be a convenient layover while you’re on the road to somewhere else. An easy lay to take the edge off, then get back to what really makes you happy.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He floundered for what to say. He really hadn’t imagined the conversation going in this direction, and he had no idea how to pull it off the ledge.

She turned away from him to stare at the wall instead. “I’ve been there and done that, and I won’t do it again.”

He swept his hand across the papers on her desk and sent them flying. “Dammit, I’mnotyour ex-husband. What kind of man do you take me for?”

“The kind who has a life that can’t slow down. The kindwho doesn’t have time for someone like me.” Her expression hardened, and her voice came out harsh and broken. “Face it, Renic. You and me? It’s not going to work.”

“Why the hell not? Couples make it work every single day. Why should we be any different?”

“Because we are!” Her shout matched his, now. “The world you live in isn’t real. It’s a fantasy. I found that out the hard way. I thought I was in love, but then one day I came home early to find the supposed love of my life playing couch commando with two—two—of Omega's latest starlets, and I realized that love is just a delusion. It’s hormones and tricks of the light, especially when it comes with musical strings attached.”

“I didn’t know he was doing that. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have sent those girls his way. You believe that, right?”

She closed her eyes as if trying to muster up all of her patience. When she opened them again, she looked a little less angry, a little more resigned. “I know you’re not like him. I know you have good intentions. But it doesn’t change reality. You’ve been around long enough to know that the music industry is poison to relationships. And we both know you’re never giving up that side of your life. Nor should you. So let’s not set ourselves up for failure.”

He paced to the wall and back, so full of irritation and frustration that he had to move, had to dosomethingbefore his head exploded. “So you’re not even going totry?”

She slumped into the rickety office chair, looking more defeated than he’d ever seen her look. “You’re music, and I can’t sing. You’re spotlights, and I’m backstage. We don’t mesh.”

She put her head in her hands. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Renic. Please stop torturing us both with somethingthat won’t work and just go back to the city. There are plenty of women waiting there for you. You don’t need me.”

Something about the way she said that made him realize that was the very root of the problem. “I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

She didn’t look up. “Not enough.”

“That’s messed up, you know that?” He stared at her, dumbfounded. It wasn’t the reaction he’d expected at all. The fact that she waved his declaration away like a particularly annoying fly tickled a thought. “You know what? I’ve figured it out. I didn’t see it before, but now I do. You’re afraid. You think that because it didn’t work out so great for you last time that it’ll always work the same way, so you’re running from it like a scared jackrabbit. I didn’t take you for a coward, Bellamy.”

She jerked her head up, and anger flared in her eyes. She thrust her chair back and stood up to face him. “I amnota coward, Renic. I’m a realist. I’ve seen what happens behind the curtains, and I don’t need that. Not anymore. I’ve built a new life, one that doesn’t involve stages or sleepless nights or cheating husbands. I don’t need you. And you don’t need me. We had a couple of nice little romps. Let’s just leave it at that.”

He worked his jaw back and forth, nodded once, then strode to the door and left without looking back.

Chapter Twenty-One

After a few hours of restless sleep and a lot of time spent cleaning every nook and cranny in the Carriage House, Lizzie made her way to the inn’s kitchen just as the rising sun cast a soft morning glow over the lake. She was back in her favorite jeans and flannel shirt, with her hair in a ponytail and last night’s pain buried somewhere deep in her chest.

She found Carrie in the kitchen leaning against the sink with a cup of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other.

“Good morning,” Lizzie muttered and shuffled to the coffee pot.

“‘Morning.” Carrie yawned. “That’s quite the set of bags you’re carting around under your eyes.”

Lizzie poured coffee into a cup, added cream, took a cautious sip, and avoided the unspoken question. “Want me to take the tray up to the bride and groom?”

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