I knew he believed that now. But over time, he would grow to resent me and all the notoriety I’d bring to his life. He’d be too honorable to say anything, but that tension would always be there, and I’d always regret it if I did that to him.
“I can’t do that to you. And I won’t do that to us.” It took all my strength to say it, but I wasn’t going to be selfish. I cared about Damien too much. I’d seen what fame had done to Joelle’s business, and she was my best friend. How could I put that burden on the shoulders of a guy who’d left his own family to escape life in the glass house that tabloid media could put you in?
“This isn’t your call to make, Miranda.” He reached for me. Squeezed my forearm. “Rick could be out there looking for you. You need protection, especially now that the news has spread that you’re here.”
“Rick has known where I lived for the last six years. Just because I don’t want to ever see the bastard’s face again doesn’t mean he’s going to hurt me.” I wasn’t going to let Rick run my life, especially not based on a bogus phone message from a sister who’d never liked me. “I’ll be careful.”
“If you go anywhere, take the driver with you. That’s not optional, and I’m texting him now to let him know he needs to stick by you.” Damien’s cell phone buzzed while he spoke. He didn’t check it, but we both knew what it meant.
It was time to make our break for it. If we didn’t move now, the throng of photo hounds would catch us in their lenses and we’d be on the late-night edition of every TV and pop entertainment blog imaginable.
Outside, a voice sounded through a bullhorn. Scotty must be rounding up the trespassing vultures to warn them off.
“Fine. The driver can go with me to Joelle’s hotel, but that’s it.” I tucked my hair behind my ears and slung my lightweight purse under my jacket, as I’d worn it while we were riding. “This is exactly the kind of life you ran from once, too, isn’t it?” I asked, imagining fifteen-year-old Damien on that first date as I backed closer to the window.
“Damn it, Miranda, we don’t need to run from it anymore.” He double-checked to be sure the coast was clear and then slid the window open for me, resigned to our quickly patched together plan.
I knew it was easier this way, even if it did hurt like hell.
“Tell me this. If we don’t need to run, then why did we set it up so I’d escape out a back window?” I asked, unable to resist, unable to stop hoping for just an instant that he would prove my fears wrong. I hoisted myself up on the sill with a speed and skill acquired from months of dodging the press.
Damien’s mouth worked for a second, as if he wanted to find an answer to that one. My heart sank, because we both knew the truth. He didn’t want this kind of life any more than I did. And since he had to stay here for the sake of his business, I had to leave.
I wanted to kiss him goodbye. To feel that amazing connection with him one more time. But I was scared that if I did, the connection would be gone. What if I’d just made him realize I’d never been the right woman for him at all? That these few days we’d had together had been a fluke, and he really was better off without me? I didn’t want to know what that kind of bittersweet kiss would feel like.
I’d rather remember those kisses when it had all felt magical. Almost as if we were falling in love.
“Thanks for holding the press off as long as you can.” As much as I wanted to be with him, it would be easier to escape with Damien out there. “I’ll go fast.”
Dropping to the ground outside the office, I felt the night dew on the long grass. Without looking back, I ran toward the pickup truck and an uncertain future. Leaving somewhere—someone—had never been hard for me before, but this time, I ran as if I had bricks on my feet. I guess because I’d left my heart behind.
12
“FOR A GUY WHO wanted to put the tabloids behind him, you sure got involved with the wrong woman,” Damien’s older brother, Trey, observed in a video call later that night.
Damien had his laptop open in the kitchen, right where Miranda had sat with her friend that very morning. Amazing how much emptier a room seemed without her in it. He had a hole in his chest the size of a fist, knowing she was gone. He’d warned off most of the reporters out on the construction site and then stuck around to personally escort a few jokers who hadn’t understood the message the first time.
When he got back to the house, her few belongings were gone. The only thing she’d left behind? A case of that cinnamon vanilla tea, right on the floor of the kitchen where Joelle had left it for her. Just looking at it made the hole in his chest widen.