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“I left my hometown because it stopped feeling like home.”
“Okay…” he said slowly, knowing there was more. Not sure he wanted to hear it.
Her eyes were locked on Winston, who seemed to sense her distress, because he let out a mournful sigh and wiggled closer.
Jordan looked at Luke, and her eyes were clear of tears but full of pain. “When I was a senior in high school, a tornado ripped through Keaton. Tornadoes weren’t unusual, but this was a big one. The high school escaped it. My house didn’t.”
Luke’s throat hurt. “Ah hell, City—Jordan.”
She gave the slightest of sad smiles and lifted her shoulders. “My little brother had stayed home from school sick that day. My mom was a homemaker; Dad was off from work because he’d thrown out his back. My whole family, gone in one awful afternoon.”
Winston was damn good at giving comfort, but Luke was better.
He stood, nudging the dog out of the way so he could haul Jordan to her feet. He didn’t know if she wanted a hug, but he needed to give her one. She was rigid for a moment before collapsing against him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “Probably not the answer you were expecting.”
He ran a hand over her messy hair. “No. And not the one I wanted, but I’m glad you told me.”
“I don’t hate small-town life,” she said, her words partially muffled against his shirt. “I just…” Her shoulders lifted and fell. “It brings back memories, you know? It’s much easier to be someone else in New York. I don’t think so much about the life I might have had if they were still alive.”
“Have you been back?”
She bit her lip. “No. I haven’t wanted to, and yet being here, it’s made me…remember. And I can’t help wondering if I need closure, you know? If maybe I need to go back there to say goodbye, so that I can…I don’t know. I don’t know what I need.”
He held her closer. “I think maybe closure,” he said quietly. “You can only run from pain for so long before it catches you.”
“Spoken from experience?” Jordan asked.
“Nah, we’re not talking about me right now,” he said, keeping his tone light.
“You think I should go back?” she asked. “To Keaton?”
Luke was silent for a moment. “My first thought was to tell you that it’s not about what I think, but…these past few weeks have taught me that sometimes the people who care about us maybe know a thing or two that we can’t see for ourselves.”
“I don’t suppose that means you’re going to do the show.”
He smiled against her hair. “Don’t push your luck, City. But about you going back to Kansas: Maybe. Don’t do it alone. Take a friend. Let it be more of a celebration of what was rather than a mourning of what was lost.”
She inhaled, held her breath, and then let it out. “A celebration. I like that.”
They were quiet for several moments, until she pulled back slightly, her blue eyes searching his face. “Do you ever think about what kind of life you want? I mean really sit and think?”
“Sure, all the time. Usually while I journal and sip herbal tea.”
Jordan laughed. “I get it. I pushed the girl talk too far.”
“What kind of life do you want?” he asked.
She smiled up at him. “Still trying to figure that out. Aren’t you?”
No. No, Luke already knew the life he wanted. The wife. The kids. The dog.
He had the last one but none of the former, and not for lack of trying. He’d been telling himself for years that he didn’t mind, that maybe it wasn’t in the cards for him.
Suddenly that answer didn’t feel nearly good enough.
“How about we start with something easy?” he murmured, planting a kiss on her forehead and giving her hand a squeeze. “What do you feel like for breakfast?”
He sensed her relief at the change in topic. “How do you feel about pancakes?” she asked.
