He looked over at her. “I swear, it wasn’t my intention to steal your mother’s work; I just wanted to find something—anything—that would move my own work along. But last summer something went terribly wrong, and Podly suddenly fell out of orbit and crashed just north of Pine Creek. I’ve spent the last two months searching for it on Springy Mountain, hoping I could take it to Grace so she could salvage some part of her work.”
“You don’t find it strange that Podly crashed so close to Pine Creek?” she asked, her voice raspy with lingering sobs.
He frowned. “Well, I admit it’s more than a little perplexing.” He turned to face her fully, and lifted her hand so he could hold it in both of his. “But what I’m trying to tell you is, I am truly, profoundly sorry for what I did. And I’m asking for another chance. Please, let me prove to you that even though nothing could ever justify what I’ve done, my intentions have always been honorable.”
She pulled free, folded her hands on her lap, and stared out at the ocean again.
“Please don’t shut me out, Camry. Let me prove my sincerity. Help me find Podly and bring it back to your mother.”
“I can’t ever go home again,” she whispered. She hugged her knees to her chest, huge tears spilling down her cheeks as she continued staring out at the ocean. “I can’t face either of them. I’ve been lying for what seems like forever. I’ve been lying to my entire family.” She dropped her head to her knees. “They’ll never forgive me.”
Luke leaned down and brushed away a tear with his thumb. “So you’re saying that if one of your sisters had a bit of a midlife crisis, then tried to cover it up and deal with it herself, you wouldn’t forgive her?”
“You don’t understand. This wouldn’t happen to one of my sisters. MacKeage women don’t have midlife crises, because we’re too damn busy being brilliant, successful, and happy.”
Luke snorted, then smiled when she glared at him. “Nobody goes through life avoiding brick walls. I’d bet my last dollar that every one of your sisters has hit at least one, if not several, walls.” He took hold of her hand again and held it in his. “You may be standing in front of one right now, but it’s not the end of the road. If you can’t go around it, then you just have to find a way through it. And your mother,” he said, giving her a squeeze, “is desperate to help you. And your father . . . well, I bet he’d give his right arm to help you through this.” He leaned forward to look her in the eyes. “And so would I, Camry.”
She said nothing, pulling her hand away to hug her knees again as she stared out at the ocean.
Luke turned to watch the waves gently lapping toward them. “I sold my soul trying to unlock the secret of ion propulsion, but over the course of this last week, I’ve decided that I don’t give a flying damn about it anymore.” He looked over at her and took a deep breath. “Tell me how to help you fix this,” he softly petitioned. “I’ll do whatever you want . . . except walk away. I’ll go home and face your parents with you, or if you prefer, I’ll go get them and bring them here. Or I can take you home to my mother in British Columbia and wait until you’re ready to go home to yours.”
She remained silent, then suddenly got to her feet. “I need to think.”
He also scrambled to his feet. “I don’t have a problem with that,” he offered, falling in step beside her as they headed toward the house. “As long as you understand that I’m not leaving.”
Chapter Nine
Camry walked down the beach at a brisk pace, her head feeling like it was going to explode from the tears she desperately fought to hold back. So much had happened this morning, she wasn’t sure she’d ever recover. She’d been hit with so many lies and half-truths about so many things—not the least of which was silently walking beside her.
He was Lucian Renoir, the man of her dreams and nightmares of over a year.
In her dreams, she had worked side by side with a fantasy version of the handsome physicist, sharing their scientific passions by day and indulging their sexual passions at night.
But she’d also had a recurring nightmare involving an equally handsome Dr. Renoir, where he was standing at a podium as she sat cowered before him wearing nothing but her underwear. He was lecturing her in front of an assembly of their peers, expounding at length on her inability to solve even the simplest equation. Her mother and father, and all her brilliant, successful sisters sat in the front row, their heads hung in shame.
But all her dreams and nightmares combined were nothing compared to Lucian Renoir in the flesh. He was even more handsome than she’d imagined: definitely taller, a heck of a lot leaner, and more rugged-looking than the man in the grainy photo she’d found on the Internet. It was the long hair and ripped body, she guessed, that had prevented her from being suspicious of having bumped into a fellow physicist in the unlikely town of Go Back Cove.
That’s why it felt as though she’d taken a punch in the gut this morning, when she had read the name on the card Fiona had left him. Having grown quite fond of Luke as they’d recuperated together, and finding herself more and more sexually attracted to him with each passing day, she had actually started weaving fantasies of following him home at the end of his sabbatical. She better than anyone could handle being ignored when he got involved at his lab, and she had hoped his passion for his work might actually rub off on her, and maybe even nudge her back into the game.
But he wasn’t good old Luke Pascal, was he?
He was Lucian Renoir. Which brought her right back to her nightmare of sitting cowering on a stage instead of realizing her dream of spending her days in his lab and her nights in his bed.
They reached the porch steps, and Luke picked up the gaily wrapped box that Fiona had left with the cards on the kitchen table, before the girl had vanished as mysteriously as she had appeared only a week ago.
He held the gift out to her, but Camry shoved her hands in her pockets. “It’s addressed to both of us,” she said. “You open it.”
He tucked it under his arm, gathered up the cards that had blown into the tall grass, then walked up the stairs and held open the door. Camry preceded him inside and went directly to her bedroom, closed and locked the door, then threw herself down on the bed and burst into tears.
Luke stood leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping his third beer from the six-pack he’d found in the fridge, and stared at the box he’d placed on the table along with Fiona’s two cards. He just didn’t feel right opening the gift without Camry.
He hadn’t felt right about reading the note Fiona had left her, either, but since he was already flying down the slippery slope of deceit, he’d read it anyway. He’d actually chuckled, despite feeling like hell, when he discovered the romantic teenager had left Camry a note almost identical to his.
Just as short and idealistic, the young girl’s note had asked Camry not to give up on him, and she’d echoed that they were each other’s miracle. The only deviation had been that Fiona had finished Camry’s note by saying that she’d see her favorite auntie next week, on the winter solstice.
Luke twisted off the cap on another beer and took a long swig. Christ, the house felt empty without the brat and the mutts. The gut-wrenching sobs coming from the bedroom—which hadn’t stopped until he’d heard the shower turn on twenty minutes ago—were the only reminder he wasn’t alone.
He honest to God didn’t know what to do. His heart ached to see Camry happy, but he couldn’t figure out how to make that happen. And he didn’t have a clue what he could say to help her find the courage to face her parents. Hell, he was about as much help as were the cryptic notes that Fiona had left them.