He studies my face. “The last time was two months ago.”
The last time.
“You broke up more than once?” I rest my hands on the table.
He nods. “I lost track of how many times. We met in high school. Things were good some of the time; not so good the rest of the time.”
I considered breaking up with Warren a couple of different times, but I always convinced myself that he was good for me.
Looking back, I wish I had paid more attention to all the doubts I had.
“She married one of my friends.” He sighs. “It came out of nowhere.”
That has to sting.
“I’m sorry,” I offer because I don’t have anything else.
A smile tugs on the corners of his lips. “I’m sorry that I ran into the wrong church, Afton.”
“I’m not,” I say honestly.
His dark brows pinch together. “You’re not?”
I shrug. “No.”
“Did something happen the day of your wedding?” He leans back in his chair. “I mean something other than me ruining it?”
“You didn’t ruin it, Luke,” I reassure him. “I was questioning whether I was doing the right thing before you showed up. When you objected, I took that as fate stepping in to tell me to get out of there.”
“Your ex-fiancé probably wants to wring my neck.”
I try to conjure up an image of Warren with his hands wrapped around Luke’s neck, but I can’t. Warren is a gentle soul. If he finds a spider in his apartment, he carries it outside to safety.
“I need to sit down and explain to him what happened,” I say softly.
“How long were you two together?”
I take a sip of water. “We’ve known each other for ten years but didn’t get together until a couple of years ago.”
“Ten years?” He eyes me. “Did you meet in high school too? Like Brooklyn and I did?”
My gaze follows the path of his hands as he slides another puzzle piece into place. “Yes. I was sixteen. He was eighteen. He left for college shortly after we met.”
“You’re twenty-six?” Surprise edges his tone.
I glance at his face. “I am.”
He nods sagely. “I’m thirty. Marriage wasn’t on my radar when I was twenty-six.”
“Is it now?”
I cringe when I realize I asked that. The answer is blatantly obvious since he tried to stop his ex from marrying someone else. A man wouldn’t be that determined to stop a wedding if he wasn’t ready to take the plunge himself.
“I thought it was.” He exhales in a rush. “I thought if I got to the church in time to stop Brooklyn from marrying Dennis that she’d accept my proposal.”
“You believe she still loves you?”
His hand drops to his side. “We’ve been through a lot together. Our bond is strong.”
That’s not a direct answer to my question, but I sense it’s all he’s willing to share.
I glance at the empty glass in front of him. “Do you want more water?”
He taps his palm on the table. “I should get going.”
I push back to stand. “I’ll see you out.”
“If you need more help with the puzzle, my schedule is wide open for the next three days.”
I’m not the best at reading between the lines, but I’ll take the bait I think he’s offering. “Why don’t you come by tomorrow night around eight? I’ll have some food ready.”
“I can bring something to eat.”
If Joel has his way, we’ll spend much of tomorrow at Nova photographing food that the owner and chef, Tyler Monroe, wants featured in his new cookbook. If that doesn’t happen, there are always a few clients looking to us to prepare and photograph something they can feature on their social media profiles.
“There’s an excellent chance that I’ll be cooking something for someone tomorrow so I can take a picture of it.” I let out a light laugh. “I can’t say for certain what will be on the menu, but I promise it’ll be delicious.”
“In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow night, Afton.”
Chapter 12
Afton
“I’ve heard that rebound sex is spectacular.”
I toss Joel a look that I hope is enough to get him to stop talking.
It’s not.
“Hit that hard, Afton.” He mimes slapping something at waist level. “Luke looks like he could drive a bed through a brick wall with the force of his…”
“Stop.” I raise a hand in the air. “It’s not like that.”
“Not like what?” Joel rests the knife in his hand on the cutting board.
I point at the bunch of brightly colored organic carrots in front of him. “Keep chopping. The producer of Rise and Shine wants these photos in her inbox by six o’clock.”
Just as I suspected, we picked up a random job this morning. The producer of one of the national morning shows wants a dish prepared and photographed so it can be featured on their website bright and early tomorrow morning.
They are bringing in a high school student who went viral last week when she shared her pasta dish online. Unfortunately, all the images she sent the producer didn’t make the cut.