I glared at him. “What are you doing here again?”
Nash scowled at me. It was one of his signature looks that I knew well. To most, his expression would come off as seeming pissed. Not to me, though. I knew he was only confused.
“I never left. I’ve been on the front porch, waiting for you to come back out,” he said. I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing. “Dottie told me to bring this basket out to you. Need any help picking stuff from the garden?”
I folded my arms over my chest and stared at him. Couldn’t he take a hint that I didn’t want to talk to him—that I didn’t want to be around him? My bear snapped at me, hating my desire to send him away.
He sat his water on the wooden table and then made his way to me in the garden. When he reached me, he held the basket out, flashing me that crooked grin he knew I’d never been able to resist. I jerked the basket from him and then stormed off toward the tomatoes.
Nash followed.
I pretended not to notice, but I could feel his presence pressing against me like a familiar, cozy blanket. My gaze remained locked on the tomatoes. There were so many ripe ones, I didn’t know where to start.
“I swear these plants get taller every day,” Nash said.
They were pretty tall. Heck, they were taller than me by at least an inch or two. What was Gran feeding them?
“Did you know she planted these for you?” Nash asked.
“What?” My voice sounded snippier than I’d intended it to as I shifted to glance at him. If he noticed my tone, he didn’t let on.
“The zucchini.” He nodded to the plant with leaves big enough to serve as umbrellas.
I smiled at the sight. “For her famous chocolate chip zucchini muffins, I bet.”
“Yeah. She made some not too long ago. We sat on the back porch together, eating them. All I could do was think of you the entire time.”
I blinked, taken aback by his words and the vulnerability that rang through his tone.
“I’ve thought about you every day since you left, Sam,” he whispered.
All the air left my lungs, and I forgot how to breathe. My bear grumbled, hating the torture that burned through his eyes. She was growing more irritated with me by the second for having hurt him.
“Why?” I asked, hoping for an honest answer from him. The last thing I wanted was for him to say something he thought I wanted to hear.
Did he regret the way things happened between us? Did he regret pushing me away? Did he regret not being there for me? Did he know that because of him, I’d built walls so high around my heart no one could peek over them or get inside?
I blinked hard, realizing for the first time how jaded I was because of him.
Nash had made me this way.
“I thought of you every day because I missed you,” he said, his eyes never wavering from mine.
“You missed me?” I scoffed, hating everything about his answer. “Okay. Sure.” I rolled my eyes.
He’d missed me, but yet he’d been the one to push me away. He’d been the one to allow tension and distance to fester between us until it had a pulse.
Tears formed in my eyes, and I hated myself for it. Nash didn’t deserve any more of my tears. I’d given him plenty in the past. I shifted to grab a tomato, and then tossed it in my basket. Nash stepped closer. I could feel his presence seeking me out. My bear tried to surface, but I stood my ground against her.
“I know I messed up,” Nash muttered. “I know that, and I’m sorry, Sam. I really am. I should have handled everything better. If I had, then maybe you wouldn’t have left. Maybe we’d still be something.”
My breath caught again. This was the apology I’d been waiting for. The problem was: I didn’t think it had the power to fix things between us like I used to.
“Maybe,” I said, grabbing a few more tomatoes without looking at him. Then, I headed for the cabin.
“I love you, Sam. I never stopped.”
I paused on the porch and spun to look at him. When I did, the glass of water on the table caught my eye. Condensation dripped down its sides. The backdrop of the mountains. The garden.
It was my painting. The one sitting in the passenger seat of my SUV.
Anger bloomed through my chest because if my gift had shifted to the left just a smidge, I’d have painted Nash into the picture, and then I would have at least had a freaking heads up about this conversation.
Would it have mattered, though? Would it have kept me from returning to Gem Creek?
Hell no. Gran was sick. She needed me.
I stared at the glass of water, watching as a drop of condensation slid down its side. The tension in my gut eased as the realization I was right where I was supposed to be washed over me. I shifted my gaze to Nash. He looked raw and broken. Scared even, like he didn’t know what I’d say but like his life depended on whatever fell from my lips next.
“Quit trying to love me, Nash. Too much damage has been done,” I said, holding his stare. When my words hit him, I saw a piece of him break. The sight tore at the edges of my heart, causing me more pain than I thought possible, and my bear released a loud growl that vibrated my insides.
Nash’s eyes darkened, and tension rippled through his muscles, causing his jaw to flex and twitch. This was what Nash looked like when he hurt. I knew the look well because it had been forever burned into my memory.
“I
