“Suit yourself,” he said as he disappeared around the side of the building.
Victoria’s temple throbbed a she stood frozen in place, watching him walk away. This would be the hardest acquisition and opponent she’d ever gone up against.
Luke raked a hand through his thick, snow-covered hair as he made his way carefully on the slick sidewalk to his truck. Despite the below-freezing temperature, sweat pooled on the back of his shirt beneath his coat. Victoria Mason. He’d known she was coming. Had been expecting her, but certainly hadn’t been prepared for the sight of her. Even more beautiful than the photos he’d seen posted on her Facebook page.
She obviously still knew the happenings in the small town she’d abandoned two weeks before their wedding. Enough to know the store was in a transition, during which time it could be vulnerable. He’d never thought she’d be capable of something like this, though. The big city certainly changed people. The girl he remembered may have had a wild side and a stubborn streak, but she’d been kindhearted and well-meaning. The Victoria he fell in love with would never have considered pulling something like this.
She’d always been interested in the betterment of the community…and of him. If it wasn’t for her belief in him, he might never have considered applying to college after having struggled with academics throughout high school. The support and encouragement she’d always offered him made it impossible for him to stay angry with her now. But he didn’t understand how she could be back here to buy out his store.
How could she forget the contributions that Legend’s made to local organizations each year? Without the sponsorship programs provided by the store, the junior hockey team—the Brookhollow Blades—wouldn’t have the funding to compete against bigger-city teams. He wished she’d tried to pull this a year ago when Mr. Jameson had been in charge. Now Luke was forced to deal with his ex-fiancée himself. He prayed he was up for the challenge.
The store’s role in his own involvement with sports from a young age was the reason he’d agreed to buy it when Mr. Jameson had asked him about it a month before he’d passed away. Claiming Luke was the closest thing to family he had, because of the bond they’d formed while working in the store and their shared passion for sports, he’d sold him Legend’s for next to nothing. Luke hadn’t the heart to refuse. He just hoped the business generated some profit in the New Year, otherwise the overhead would cut into his capital.
Climbing into his truck, he turned the key in the ignition. The old engine resisted. “Come on…” he said, closing his eyes and trying again. The engine sputtered to life. If it lasted the winter, he’d consider himself lucky. He hated the idea of parting with the old beast. Good memories were tied to this truck—Victoria close to him as he drove, her hand tucked in his.
After all this time, he’d hoped he wouldn’t have reacted to her as he had. He barely thought of her anymore. Okay, that was a lie. He thought of her more often than he cared to admit. Thought of her smile, her laugh, her soft skin…how she’d left him, and how he’d been crazy to just let her go. Frowning, he turned the truck onto the quiet street. He’d been angry and hurt for a long time, but the emotions had turned to a dull longing. He’d fought every urge to contact her, despite the attempts of social media to reconnect them through mutual friends. He always found a reason to be out of town when there was a chance she might be coming in—Rachel Harper’s wedding three years ago…her grandmother’s funeral two years before that… Now here she was and there would be no avoiding her.
She would be gone before the week was over, but only if he gave her what she came for.
CHAPTER TWO
“Since when is Luke Dawson interested in owning an old sporting goods store?” Victoria asked her mother an hour later.
Sheila Mason bent to look through the glass of the oven door. Her light blond hair, streaked with gray, was tied in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck and fell over one shoulder. The rich aroma of her chicken-and-mushroom casserole filled the kitchen. “I don’t know, dear.” The timer on the oven rang and she hit the off button on the stove.
Victoria paced the kitchen, biting her thumbnail. Her perfect manicure didn’t stand a chance of surviving the week.
“Stop biting your nails.” Her mother smacked her hand away from her mouth. “Can you hand me the oven mitts?” Opening the oven door, she fanned the blast of escaping heat.
Victoria opened the same kitchen drawer where the mitts had been for as long as she could remember. Nothing had changed here. From the antique table-and-chair set in the corner that had once belonged to her grandmother, to the lace curtains hanging in the tiny kitchen window, everything looked just as it always had. Even the advent calendar hung in the same spot on the wall near the window, where it had year after year. She remembered how excited she used to be on the first of December when they would fill the tiny squares with chocolate balls and count down the days until Christmas Eve. Despite the absence of children in the house now, her mother still kept up the tradition.
Victoria handed the mitts to her mother. “But I thought you said he was working for an architecture firm? And he usually worked out of town.” So many unanswered questions.
“I really don’t know. The store does mean a lot to Brookhollow.” Her mom shrugged, taking a knife from the block on the counter. “You’ll have to ask Luke those questions,” she said, cutting into the casserole.
Victoria’s stomach growled. “Since when have you become so tight-lipped?” she asked pointedly. Her mother would be the first one to admit she couldn’t keep a secret. She prided herself on being a source of information in town, even if that information wasn’t always accurate.
“Are you calling me a gossip?” Her mother faked an expression of shock. She set the knife in the sink and rinsed it. “Look, all I know is what I hear around town’ You know Darlene Dawson and I don’t talk much anymore.”
Victoria sighed. Her ignorance about what was going on locally couldn’t be blamed on her mother. She’d done her best to distance herself from the everyday happenings in Brookhollow. Over the years, she’d been successful in convincing herself that she wasn’t missing much. She grabbed a fork and sampled the casserole. “Oh, my God, that’s good.”
Her mother swiped her hand away. “Don’t pick. Your aunt and uncle should be here any minute and then we can eat.”
Her dad swung open the kitchen door and poked his head inside the kitchen. “Luke’s truck just pulled into the cul-de-sac.”
“What? You invited Luke? Mom, you can’t be serious.” Victoria dropped her fork onto the counter and turned toward her father. “And you—how could you not tell me?”
“I had nothing to do with it,” he said, quickly escaping the kitchen.
Turning, her mom set the dinner plates onto the counter and said, “Oh, relax. I saw him earlier today, replacing the burned-out bulbs in Ginger’s Christmas lights and he said he was looking forward to seeing you again, so I invited him to dinner.” Her mother shrugged.
“Mom, he is my ex-fiancé, in case you’ve forgotten. Not to mention my company is working for the store trying to buy out Legend’s.” She paced back and forth in the kitchen, frowning. How could her mother have invited him to dinner? How could he accept knowing the reason for her visit? And why hadn’t he said anything?
“Business is business, honey. I’m sure you two will figure that stuff out. But can’t you just put it aside for the evening and have a pleasant dinner with an old friend? I’m sure Luke has long gotten over the fact you left him at the altar.” Her mom waved a hand dismissively and busied herself with the pie she was making. “Even if his mother hasn’t,” she mumbled, rolling out the crust.
“I didn’t leave him at the altar.” Victoria stopped pacing, wondering how many times they’d had this conversation. Too many. “I called off the wedding two weeks before and, besides, he certainly didn’t try to stop me.” Memories of those last