Page 89 of Happily Never After

Luke smashed the mallet into the steak. His eyes cut over to her. “Victoria was the one who agreed to marry him. They lived together and she didn’t even see the signs. You need to stop using Barney as an excuse to not trust people. Especially people that I personally recommend you to.”

She paused. Something wasn’t connecting here. “So you’re upset because I made you look bad to Brad?”

“No,” he growled, hitting the meat with more force than was necessary.

She wasn’t about to critique a man holding a mallet, but the steaks would be the width of a piece of paper before long.

“I’m upset because you’re questioning my judgment,” he added.

“Oh,” she said. She put a hand on his. The mallet came to rest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t trust your judgment. You know I do. I listened to your very valid concerns about transportation for Brad’s proposal. I even let you pick the tile replacement for the bathroom, and you were so right. Marble would have been a terrible choice in a multiple dog household.”

Stubble covered Luke’s rugged cheekbones. He scrubbed a hand over his face. His eyes were hooded. “Respect is important. And respect and trust are tied up together. You need to do better.”

His words slapped her like a prizefighter. “Ineed to do better?” She took a step back. Her insides burned. This was the last thing she needed when she was on the verge of getting fired.

“My mother was almost kidnapped, Luke. People are threatening my family. Forgive me if I’m having a hard time trusting strangers at the moment. And by the way, light stalking and surveillance have always been part of our process at Happily Ever Afters. Do you know how many cheaters and people who were mean to waitstaff and other red flags we uncovered as a result of our efforts? It’s one of the reasons why we were so successful.”

Were. The past tense slipped out unintentionally. Why did it hit so hard? It was like every project that happened before Barney was sitting neatly in a golden filing cabinet marked “Before.” Every proposal that had come since, no matter how romantic, had had just a slight tinge to it, a note of apprehension and uncertainty.

“You can’t go based off surface interactions when you’re helping someone pledge their undying love. Did you ever have dinner with Brad? Hang out at a bar? Game night? Anything not in a business setting?”

“Not exactly,” Luke said. “But he’s a good guy. I know he is. And you should trust my word.”

She turned away from him. He wasn’t being rational. Was he really upset about Brad, or was this something else?

She whipped back around and crossed her arms. “Do you want me to sugarcoat this next part, or do you want the truth?”

“Truth.”

“You’re being a bit of an asshole,” she half shouted. Winston snorted and looked up from his bed. Half of his tongue poked out the side of his mouth. “Why?”

“Brad is a friend and?—”

“This isn’t really about Brad,” she interrupted. “Tell me what’s going on.”

The mallet hit the cutting board with a clang. He put both hands on the island and leaned toward her. “I asked you for one thing. Be home for dinner at six, so we can spend some time together. Just the two of us. And you forgot. Do you know how it makes me feel when you prioritize spying on your clients over having dinner with me?”

Claire deflated like a balloon. With all the Brad drama, she had almost forgotten about the missed dinner. This was just the latest in an unfortunate series of putting Luke on the back burner. If he was an hour late for a dinnershehad slaved over, she would have been pissed.

“You’re right. I messed up. I’m sorry.”

He turned his back to her and washed his hands methodically in the sink. Was he about to pick up his tool belt and start building a treehouse? He dried off with a dish towel and took a deep breath.

“Lately, I’ve been feeling like an afterthought. We said we were going to make time to be together while we’re out here, and every time I try, it’s like pulling teeth. Do you not want to spend time with me?”

Oof. She was going to have a ton of material to take to her next therapy session. Was there a limit on the number of topics? Maybe she should make a PowerPoint. If she forced Luke to sit down and take a quiz right now, she could almost guarantee his love language was quality time. And she hadn’t been giving him any of it.

She laid a hand on his, gentle as a bird landing on a branch. “Luke, I love spending time with you. You’re my big, grumpy, opinionated bear. You plan the best date nights. I’m sorry that I haven’t been as available lately. I think I’ve really been letting the stress get to me. You know you’re more important to me than any of this—” She flapped one hand toward the six binders sitting on the kitchen table. “And I’m going to try harder to show it.”

Luke’s hand slid out from under hers. Oh, no. Had she said the wrong thing? Would he disappear to blow off some steam? Maybe hewasgoing to build that tree house.

He caught her wrist and pulled her into him. His arms surrounded her. Warmth engulfed her, followed closely by the scent of clean linen and rosemary. She melted like an ice sculpture in July.

He pressed his lips to her hair. “It’ll be okay.”

“But what if he fires me?” Her voice was muffled.

His arms tightened around her. “You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. There’s always a way.”

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