“I’ll think about it—but don’t hold your breath.” Fair warning. Because he was not giving her the money. He might not be able to refuse her request while she was standing a few feet away, but he could text it.

Her irises began to glisten. “You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you.”

Blast.

If she started crying, he was in big trouble.

He retreated a few steps. “I’ll move my car.”

Without waiting for a reply, he strode toward his cruiser. Once inside, he backed onto the road, guilt pricking his conscience.

It had been wrong to take the coward’s way out—and unkind to create false hope. He should have sucked it up and told her no rather than delay the inevitable.

As she pulled out of the driveway, she lifted a hand in farewell.

His conscience jabbed him again.

Letting her drive away without fixing this was wrong.

He unwrapped his fingers from around the wheel and motioned for her to stop—but she turned onto the road and picked up speed.

She must have thought he was returning her wave.

Short of following her and breaking the bad news on the side of the road, he’d have to go with a call or text.

But he wouldn’t leave her in limbo for long. By the end of the day, he’d give her his decision.

The Nissan disappeared around a curve in the road, and he swung back into the driveway. After parking by the cottage, he fished a padlock out of his trunk. As soon as he secured the premises, he could be on his way.

It took mere seconds to attach the lock to the door, but he lingered to examine the sidelights. They were beautiful. Yet their history was sad. Neither the man who’d made them nor the woman he’d loved had realized their dream of a life here together. The house had stood locked and empty all these years, nothing but a hollow echo of what might have been filling the rooms.

Like the hollow echo in his heart after Christi had rejected him.

But the lock on this house had disappeared . . . and now Christi had rattled the lock on his heart.

Not good.

Locks performed a valuable function. They kept unwanted visitors out—and unwanted emotions in.

Fortunately, she’d be gone soon. Why linger if the loan was a no go? She could return to Dallas and get on with her life, and his life would return to normal.

All he had to do was bury the memories of their two brief and unsettling encounters deep in a closet in the darkest corner of his heart.

And hope the lock he put on them was more reliable than the one on the door of Sea Glass Cottage.

4