“Did you find what you were looking for?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? She thought back over the last week, over the things she’d seen and the places she’d gone. Over her fights with Luke and the nights that lit her entire body on fire. Over the way he’d bared himself to her so completely, and hadn’t flinched when she’d returned the favor. Why would he flinch? He knew everything before getting on a plane to come after me. That wasn’t acceptance. That was him playing a part to make me feel like I was actually stronger than I am. “I wish you hadn’t sent him.”

“Honey, whatever you think he did, I should be the first to tell you—Jacks is a really shitty actor. The man wears his thoughts on his face like nobody’s business. I actually won a pretty penny from him playing poker last time he was in town visiting Ryan.”

“But…” He had been a giant asshole when they first met. Even when he’d dragged her up to his room, he’d been angry. It was only in Norway that some of that finally started to break, and then fall away completely in Salzburg. She wanted to keep silent, but the thought circling her mind had to be voiced. “I fell for him, Avery. So hard that I don’t know which way is up.”

“Luke’s a good guy.” Her sister sounded like she didn’t want to admit it, but Avery wasn’t much of a liar, either. “Kind of a grouchy crankypants, but a good man.”

“How am I supposed to know what’s real and what’s a lie? I can’t trust him.” She couldn’t trust the peace she’d felt because of him. No matter how much she wanted to.

“Honey, he told you his real name, and I doubt he bothered to come up with an entire fictional backstory. If I had my guess, it sounds like the only thing he didn’t tell you was why he was in Europe to begin with.”

“You can’t know that. He… He said all the right things to make me think I was doing this. He played me.”

“I don’t know about that. But you do. One way or another, you have to trust your instincts.”

“I don’t have any instincts left.” Every step she’d made along the way was the wrong one, from what she chose to major in to whom she almost married. It was all wrong.

Avery sighed. “Yeah, you do. You’ve just been such a people pleaser since Mom died that you buried them deep. Why don’t you take a few days, see some stuff, and figure out how you feel? If you want to tell Jacks to take a flying leap after that, do it. If you want to give him another chance, well, that’s an option, too. It’s your choice.”

Her choice. She felt like she’d spent so much of the last ten years just reacting. Booking the ticket to Cork was the first time she’d been proactive in her own life, and look where it had led her—in Venice alone, nursing a broken heart. “I’m afraid.”

She laughed. “You jumped on a plane to Europe with no plan. That’s as brave as a person gets. Just trust yourself.”

Her chest felt too tight. Did Avery know how hard it’d be for her to take that leap of faith where he was concerned? Every time she’d done it in the past, she’d been kicked in the face as a result. No matter what her sister thought, she couldn’t argue with Alexis’s track record. Who was to say her time with Luke was any different?

But…it had felt different. She’d never responded to Eric—or anyone else—the way she did with Luke. He’d brought out a side of her she didn’t know existed, a strong and snappy woman she’d been certain was broken a long time ago. Maybe Avery did know how difficult it’d be for her, but her sister wanted Alexis happy. She’d move heaven and earth to make it happen if it was within her power. Alexis fought back the tightness in her throat. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now go sightsee or whatever. Take lots of pictures!”

“I will. I promise.” She hung up, feeling marginally better. Trust her gut. Easier said than done, but at least she didn’t have to make a decision now. She could see a few more things, eat some amazing food, and then figure out how she felt about Luke.

Alexis had the creeping sense that she already knew damn well how she felt about it. She just needed some time to come to terms with it.

Chapter Twenty

Three days. Three goddamn days with no word. Not that Luke really expected one, but he’d prowled around Venice until he was ready to go out of his mind. There was no reason to think Alexis would stay in the city after their blowout, but that didn’t stop him from looking for her.

It also gave him a lot of time to think.

The kernel of realization that started during his conversation with that bartender, Tristina, bloomed into full-out self-loathing. If he’d been honest with Alexis from the beginning—Flannery be damned—then he could have avoided hurting her like this. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if they wouldn’t have progressed in a similar way even if she knew why he was in Europe to begin with. It wasn’t like they’d been best friends from the start.

He could have experienced those same things with her without the layer of lies between them. He could have been next to her while she discovered her inner strength without hobbling her along the way.

Because he had been telling the truth. She stood on her own two feet, even when he wasn’t completely honest with her. Watching that confidence crumble was almost worse than knowing he’d fucked this up beyond all reason.

Not to mention he had to call and report in—something he’d avoided up to this point, mostly because he didn’t want to face Flannery’s wrath. If the man didn’t know what happened between them—and that was doubtful at this point—Luke hadn’t wanted to be the one to tell him.

Which was cowardly as fuck.

If he couldn’t deal with confronting Flannery, then how the hell was he supposed to prove to Alexis that he was serious about her? Steeling himself, Luke dropped onto the bed in his hotel room and dug out his satellite phone.

It barely rang once. “I wondered when I’d hear from you.”

There was nothing in Flannery’s voice to tell him which way the wind was blowing. But the lack of panic told him all he needed to know. “You’ve talked to her?” She was okay. That was all that mattered.

“You have some serious balls to call me and demand to know a damn thing about her. Why don’t we talk about the fact that you abused the hell out of my instructions? What part of ‘protect Alexis’ translated into ‘fuck her’?”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” He shoved to his feet and paced around the bed and back again. “I didn’t plan on things playing out this way, but I’m not going to apologize for it. I care about her and, yeah, I fucked up, but I’m going to find a way to make this right. I’m not letting her go without a fight.”

He expected Flannery to lay into him, or at least rip him a new one. But the man just hissed out a breath. “What makes you think she wants anything to do with you?”

“She probably doesn’t. And if she tells me that after I pour out my heart”—did he actually just say that shit?—“then I won’t bother her again. But I have to try. I can’t let things stand as they are.”

“You’re serious.”

“As a fucking heart attack. She got to me, man. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I’m a goner where she’s concerned.”

Another pause, longer this time. “Even if she decides to give you a second chance, that doesn’t let you off the hook with me—or Avery and Drew.”

He didn’t give a flying fuck what they thought of him. Alexis was the only one who mattered. “Just tell me where she is. Give me a chance to at least try to fix this.” He didn’t have the first clue how he was supposed to do it, but he couldn’t walk away now any more than he could before.

Then it hit him. He didn’t need Flannery to tell him where she was going, because he already knew. “She’s going to Verona, isn’t she?” If she was feeling half the heartbreak he was at this point, she’d want that reassurance that love wasn’t all a shit show. Hell, he’d like a little reassurance right now, too.