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Colin had already spoken to Fleur? Drake turned his gaze to the kitchen window once more, understanding that his whole life—his future—was inside that room right now. He needed to go down there and tell her as much, whether or not she forgave him.
He wouldn’t allow this argument to fester for five years the way he’d done with Colin.
“Thank you.” Not sure what else to say, he wrapped his brother in a hug. “And this is always your home.”
Colin squeezed his shoulder before letting go. “Good. Then I will be the representative Alexander male of the hour, while you go patch things up with Fleur.”
“Deal.” Feeling lighter than he had in years, Drake smiled. He knew he had a long way to go to heal things with his sibling, but tonight was a start. And it felt damned good to have Colin here again.
He just hoped he could express himself to Fleur more effectively than he had in the past. He couldn’t control whether or not she wanted him in her life. But he could make certain she understood how much he loved her, and he wasn’t leaving that kitchen until he’d made his point.
Staring through the window at the silver lights exploding in a starfish pattern over the creek, Fleur chastised herself for being too chicken to leave the kitchen to go outside and enjoy the Fourth of July display.
Plus, she was still feeling emotional from her earlier encounter with Colin. They’d managed to talk, express their sorrow over the loss of their child, and come to terms with their relationship. She felt a pang as she realized her feelings for Colin had never been deep or strong or complicated. He’d been a safety net for her, and she a rebellion against his brother’s rules for him. They’d parted on a good note.
So far, only the lights from neighboring ranches had arced across the sky. But Emma and Glen had a show planned for dusk, a newlywed celebration to cap off their wedding day. There’d been a time when Fleur might have imagined her enjoying that moment with Drake beside her.
But after their fight last week—after the way he’d flexed his financial might hoping to make the sale of Crooked Elm happen faster—she had told him she didn’t want to see him anymore. As much as it hurt to think of not being with him again, she also knew herself well enough to understand she couldn’t spend her life feeling like her wishes were secondary to a man with money. Her father had made her feel less than enough for one lifetime.
Now she made her own decisions. Called her own shots.
And it was a lonely battle to have won.
The one bright moment was the talk she’d had with Colin. They were better as friends, they’d agreed. And she felt a weight off her mind thinking about that. Her conscience was eased regarding her past with Colin. They’d forgiven each other.
Returning to the counter, she stacked up the cleaned serving trays and slid them into their canvas carrying case. The evening had seemed like a success even though she hadn’t visited the reception herself yet. And she needed to, soon. Emma deserved her personal congratulations.
When a side door opened, she expected to see Marta walk into the room with another empty tray. But when she looked up, Drake stood before her.
Dressed in a tuxedo and black Stetson, he had a pink rose boutonniere. She’d never seen him so devastatingly handsome, although she suspected it had more to do with how long it had been since she’d seen him than with what he wore.
“Fleur.” He spoke her name like an answer to all his questions.
And it hurt her because she knew that wasn’t the case.
“Does the bride need something?” she asked, channeling Jessamyn and turning on her business mode. “I can send Marta up with morecroquetas.”
She bustled toward the refrigerator, willing herself not to think about how handsome Drake looked. Or about what he might want.
Or how much she wanted him.
“Emma doesn’t need anything,” Drake asserted, stepping deeper into the room while still maintaining some distance. “The food was incredible and all the guests are singing your praises while they dance.”
She really would have liked to have overseen things personally, so she appreciated hearing that. She’d stayed away to safeguard her heart. And keep from causing a scene.
“I’m glad to hear it.” She thought of the heavy apron she wore. That her hair was in a net in deference to the food prep. Swiftly, she withdrew the net and untied the apron.
Because the cooking was finished, of course. Not because Drake stood there looking so good it made her hurt.
She tucked the items into her duffel bag and ran a self-conscious hand over her matted hair.
“You look beautiful.” His low voice curled through her like smoke wisps as his gaze roamed over her yellow tea-length dress, the tulle skirt embroidered with daisies.
Swallowing her nerves, she tucked her hands under her elbows, folding her arms tightly.
“I know you’re not here to talk about that. What can I do for you?”
“Emma wanted me to make sure you didn’t miss the fireworks.” He tugged off his Stetson and set it on a counter stool. “But that’s only half the truth. I realized that I need to make better choices with you if I want any chance of convincing you not to walk away from what’s happening between us.”
