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He looked her over. Was she upset because he hadn’t responded to her admission yesterday? All day he had been thinking about her and what the hell his feelings were. They were strong, he knew that. And he wanted to spend that time with her. Figuring out what to do about the new job offer, which he had to make a decision about in several days.

“About last night—”

“I’m not talking about that.”

“Well, I’d like to,” he said, trying to figure out why she was being this way.

“Tell me the truth, Luke. For once, tell me something to my face before I’m hit with it later.”

“I have told you the truth.”

“Really? So this contract to go to New York isn’t real?”

“What?” Shock settled in his gut. “That wasn’t supposed to come in until next week.”

The way her face fell when he said that did horrible things to his chest. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant,” she said so softly he had to strain to hear her. “You had another opportunity you couldn’t pass up, right?”

Hearing her say the words he’d said to her before was tough to swallow.

“Annabelle, let’s talk about this.”

“Are you going to New York, Luke?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Whatever was warring within him, he didn’t recognize. It was an emotion—something painful and achy—that rendered him speechless.

“I guess I have my answer,” she whispered.

She walked past him out the door.

“Baby, wait.”

Water lined her eyes when she looked over her shoulder and said, “I can’t.”

Chapter Eight

It had been three hours since Annie left. And it was the longest three hours of Luke’s life. He’d spent it pacing in his cabin and trying to figure out what to do.

Luke knew she needed space. And he was trying to give her that. Mostly because he didn’t know what to say. How the hell could he explain something he didn’t understand himself?

He should want to go east. To take this opportunity and make good for himself and his family.

A knock on his front door sounded, and Luke put down the scotch he was drinking and rushed to answer.

“Anna—”

Nope, not Annabelle. His grandfather.

“Hey, Pop, come in.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said as he sat down, glancing at the drink on the table.

“Not at all.”

Andrew Jacobs nodded and simply stared.

“Sorry I missed our meeting today. But harvest has gone well,” Luke said.

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