“I can’t believe you did this.”

“I thought it would be fun to get away from it all for a week, to go to your friend’s wedding—”

“I can’t go, Ella. There’s no way I can go.”

“What do you mean? I just told you, work is covered—”

“It’s not covered.” He got up out of bed and pulled on his underwear and then rested his hands on his hips. “Clinton is great, but he’s never been left in charge before. I can’t just walk away from my responsibilities for a week because you think it would be fun.”

“Gavin, let’s talk about it—”

“I’m really sorry. It was nice of you to do this and to think of me this way, but I can’t do it.”

“You’re closed down for the weekend. You could come for a few days. Surely your business wouldn’t fall apart if you missed a couple of days. I’m missing one of the biggest weeks of the year in the store, and it’ll be fine.”

“Because you have people to cover for you. I don’t have that.”

“Yes, you do!”

“So two weeks together and suddenly you know my business better than I do? Wow. That’s one hell of an accomplishment.” He turned away from her and went into the other room.

Frantic to salvage this disaster, Ella scrambled out of bed and pulled on a robe before following him into the living room, where he was getting dressed. She was shocked to see him getting ready to leave. “What’re you doing? Where’re you going?”

“I’m going home. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but we both knew I would eventually, so it’s better that it happen sooner rather than later. You deserve someone who could receive an amazing gift like this with grace and appreciation. I’m not that guy.”

“Would you please stop and just talk to me? Tell me what’s really going on here.”

“I did tell you, but you don’t believe me when I say I can’t be away from work.”

“Okay, so we won’t go.”

“You should go. You spent all that money. You shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

“Go without you? To your friend’s wedding?”

“He’s your friend, too. You and your brothers and Hannah have known him for years.”

“Gavin, you’re being crazy. Why would I go to Dylan’s wedding without you?”

“Because you’ll be out all that money if you don’t go.”

“Please stay and talk to me.”

“What’s there to talk about? You’ve always wanted more from me than I’m able to give. This is the proof.”

“So that’s it? It’s over? Just like that? Because I tried to do something nice for you?”

“No, because you’re too good for me. You deserve better.”

“Gavin, I swear to God, if you walk out that door, don’t come back. You won’t be welcome.”

“I’m sorry, Ella. You’ll never know how sorry I am that I couldn’t make this work.”

With those words, he walked out the door, closing it behind him. As the lock clicked into place, Ella stared at the door, riveted by the memory of making love with him there. Her eyes filled with tears that she barely registered.

“What the hell just happened here?” It defied explanation. It defied belief. Never in her worst nightmares had she expected the reaction she’d gotten from him. She’d expected that he might be a little tense about work, but she’d thought that perhaps he’d call Clinton and go over everything with him and at least try to make it work.

But he hadn’t done that. He’d just said thanks but no thanks and then left. She couldn’t believe he’d actually left. There had to be more to this than work. But what was it and why wouldn’t he tell her rather than end a relationship that was making them both happy over a trip no one was going to force him to take?

It didn’t make sense. It didn’t add up.

Ella stared at the door for a long, long time before she turned and went into the kitchen to call his mother.

*   *   *

Gavin’s hands were shaking so badly he could barely drive. God, what had he done? It would be a very long time, if ever, before he forgot the shattered expression on her lovely face. He was a heartless bastard for letting this happen in the first place. That was where he’d made his first mistake.

The time with her had been amazing—the best days of his life—but all along he’d been waiting to fuck it up. He’d known he would. He couldn’t tell her why he didn’t want to go to the wedding. He’d never told anyone why he’d taken a step back from his brother’s friends after Caleb died.

How could anyone understand what he barely understood himself?

No, he’d done the right thing. He kept telling himself that over and over again on the lonely, dark ride home. For a brief moment he thought about driving out of town to a place where no one knew him so he could get drunk in peace.

But he rejected that idea and headed home, where he had plenty of whiskey and could tie one on in the privacy of his own space.

He pulled up to the cabin and went inside where it was cold and dark. If only his fucking hands would stop shaking, he thought as he built up a fire in the woodstove. When his legs would no longer support him in a squat in front of the fireplace, he fell back to the floor, coming to rest against the sofa.

“What the fuck did I do?” Her face . . . that incredibly beautiful face and the way she’d stared at him as if he’d lost his mind . . . The memory of that would haunt him forever. How could he have done that to her? He couldn’t bear to think of the time, effort and expense she’d gone to in order to surprise him, only to have it spit back in her face because he was a pathetic loser who couldn’t find his way out of the swamp of grief and regret his life had become.

Leaving had been the right thing to do.

No, his heart cried out from its painful post inside his chest. It had not been the right thing to do. He’d barely survived one day and one night without her, and now he’d sentenced himself to the rest of his life without her all because he was too much of a coward to confront the truth?

“God, what did I do?” He sat on the floor and ran his fingers through his hair over and over again, wishing he had the courage to go back and face her, to try to explain, to make her see. But she’d told him he wouldn’t be welcome back if he left, and she’d meant it.

He’d finally pushed her too far. He’d finally managed to push her right out of his life.

A knock on the door brought him to his feet, his heart leaping in the hope that it might be her, that maybe she’d come after him one more time. But it wasn’t Ella. It was his dad, and he didn’t look happy.

“Let me in, Gavin.”

“This isn’t a good time, Dad.”

“I’m not leaving until I talk to you, so step aside and let me in.”

Gavin recognized that steely tone in the colonel’s voice and knew he was staring defeat in the face. He stepped aside. His dad walked into the house and went straight to the fridge, where he retrieved a beer. He held it up to ask Gavin if he wanted one.

Gavin shook his head. He wasn’t at all sure he could keep it down. “What’re you doing here anyway?”

“Ella called Mom.”

Gavin sighed, imagining that conversation.

His dad took a drink from his beer. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You want the whole list or just the top ten?”

Bob put the beer down on the counter and ran his hand over his mouth. Gavin couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen his dad so agitated. Well, yes he could . . . He’d looked just like this on the worst day of their lives. Gavin felt a tinge of shame at having driven him to that state again.

“I’ve let this go on far longer than I should have,” Bob said in the tone he used to save for his sons when they tried to step out of line, which was usually every day.

“You’ve let what go on?”

“You and your bullshit. Do you know what it did to your mother to hear you’d gotten arrested in a bar fight at thirty-four years old?”

“Do you even know why I got arrested in a bar fight?” Gavin had never spoken about the incident with either of his parents. In fact, he’d harbored a tiny hope that they hadn’t heard about it.