A few beats passed. There was nothing else to say—unless he offered her the loan she’d asked for.

Not happening.

Tightening his grip on the cooling tacos, he spun away and strode toward his Jeep. He was not going to look back. Literally or figuratively.

Christi Reece was part of his past, and that’s where she’d stay. He’d moved on, built a life he enjoyed, achieved his dream to write a bestselling crime thriller. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

And he wasn’t about to let the woman it had taken him years to expunge from his dreams barge in and disrupt his peace of mind and placid existence.

Even if the dormant emotions she’d awakened were already messing with both.

2

The man she’d pinned her hopes on didn’t look back at her. Not once. He slid behind the wheel of his Jeep, started the engine, and drove away.

Vision blurring, Christi swiped off the tear trailing down her cheek as the tiny flame of hope in her heart flickered and went out. But what else had she expected, really? The image of the hurt and disillusionment in his eyes the day she’d betrayed him was seared into her brain, as clear as if the incident had happened yesterday. And while time could dull pain, wounds often lingered in memory—as his obviously had. It was clear forgive and forget weren’t in his vocabulary. At least not for her.

The two seagulls who’d witnessed their exchange inched closer, and she sighed. It was hard not to envy them their uncomplicated life. Birds didn’t have to worry about paying bills or guilt or complicated relationships. And if life got tough, they could soar into the sky and fly far away from their problems.

Christi angled back toward the road and watched the taillights of Jack’s Jeep disappear around a corner. In hindsight, it had been foolish to let the discovery of his novel send her on a cross-country wild-goose chase. The book hadn’t been a sign from above to track him down. It had been a fluke. Hope Harbor wasn’t going to live up to its name for her.

So what was she supposed to do now?

She glanced up at the late-afternoon sky, where billowy white clouds were scuttling across the blue expanse.

Lord, please show me what to do next. The clock is ticking for Tasha. If I can’t come up with a solution, she’ll—

“Good afternoon.”

Christi jerked and swung around.