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I’m not ready. I can skirt the truth, but the traumatic details about my past…
I can’t. Not yet. It’s too hard. Too heavy. The idea of going into detail to everyone about how badly I fucked up my life makes me incredibly sad.
Davis’s brow furrows. “Would you have told me all this?” he asks thickly. “When you came back?”
I keep my gaze on him. “Honestly, probably not.”
Last night, there was no time to lie. I had so many excuses prepared, but when I saw Davis, every little white liedisappeared. Because he was safety. He was comfort. He was someone who always knew what to do.
Now, in the harsh light of morning, I realize it’s a bad idea. Davis Montgomery is like a dog with a bone. He won’t let go until I tell him everything.
And I can’t tell him Aiden’s name. He’ll kill him.
“All the little white lies I would’ve told. I’d be a legend.”
Davis makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat.
I stretch out in the seat and say gently, “Believe me, sending out some distressed woman SOS isn’t exactly the way I wanted to come back to town.”
He doesn’t smile. Always the same stern, broody face on this cowboy.
Of course, that’s the face he’s making.
I’m weak. I’m not the girl he knew.
“I didn’t know things were this bad,” he says with quiet rage.
“No one did.” A tear slips down my cheek. “I’m tired, Davis. I’m tired of being good.”
I turn my face to the window, feeling sad. Wyoming turns to Montana as we cross the border. “I’m tired of running.”
Davis’s sharp gaze slides across me, then returns to the highway. “You’re not running. You’re going home.”
Home.
Home to rebuild my life.
At least what’s left of it.
Six years ago, I was at the top of my game. A degree in pastry arts. Culinary festivals. Tutelage under Dominique Ansel. I traveled the country. France. The Keys. The Alps. Budapest. I baked like my soul was a flame and experienced things my small town could only dream of. I ate the world. I never wanted to go back.
Then, three years into my culinary dreams, I met Aiden.
And I rushed into it.
He wasn’t mine and I wasn’t his. At least, not in the way that mattered. He was someone I let into my life. All because the Marine back home didn’t want my heart, so I tried to give it away to the first man that would take it.
I tried.
And I failed miserably.
I fucked up.
Because being with Aiden King was like being blindsided in plain sight.
For the first year, it was good. Then, after I bought the bakery, he changed. Mean. Bitter. Violent. He convinced me I wasn’t good enough.Hewas the prize and I couldn’t live without him.
Slowly, my world shrank. I left behind my friends, my family, even those bantering texts from Davis that got me through culinary school.
