“Don’t mind if I do.” Big Mac leaned against the truck. “I remember how it was last time. That summer she didn’t come back.”

Luke could still recall the agony. No other word could do it justice—pure, unadulterated agony.

“I don’t want to see that happen again.”

“It won’t,” Luke said with more confidence than he felt. He’d do whatever he could to make sure it didn’t.

“She’s been through an awful thing. People come out the other side of something like that changed.”

“I can’t see how it wouldn’t change a person.”

“See to it she doesn’t use you to put the pieces back together and then move on like she did last time.”

“Now wait just a second—”

Big Mac held up a huge hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t. You can’t overstep with me. You know that.” Luke dropped the rag and rested his hands on his hips, fighting a range of emotion that included anger, fear and a bit of despair. “I hear what you’re saying, and I appreciate why you’re saying it.” Luke paused, took a moment to get himself together and then looked up at the man who meant the world to him. “Am I a chump for giving her another chance?”

“Nah,” Big Mac scoffed. “You’re only a chump if you ignore the handwriting on the wall telling you history is about to repeat itself.”

Luke responded with a brisk nod.

Big Mac squeezed Luke’s shoulder. “Have a good time tonight.” He walked away but left the weight of his concerns behind.

Turning back to the truck, Luke stared into the cab for a long time before he finished the job.

Chapter 8

Big Mac’s concerns stayed with Luke the rest of the day and into the evening as he showered and shaved. Wiping the steam from the mirror, he took a good long look at his reflection. He’d never had any trouble attracting female attention, but no matter how many women he met, there’d never been another Sydney Donovan. For years he’d actually made a concerted effort to connect with other women, but it just hadn’t happened. After a while, he’d stopped bothering and accepted he was fated to love just one woman in his lifetime.

“Maybe I am a chump,” he said. “How many guys would give a woman a second chance after what she did to me?” Even as he said the words, however, he couldn’t seem to work up the energy to be mad with her or to resent her for something that’d happened when they were little more than kids. Still, the worry nagged at him and took something away from the thrill of knowing he was going to see her again—soon.