Page 95 of Autumn at the Cat Cafe

He stiffened. Earl’s journal. He’d left that behind too, not wanting a single reminder of Pecan Corner. “How—” His voice cracked. He cleared it. “How did she get her hands on that?”

“One of the movers gave it to her. She read it, Leo.” Via’s eyes shined with tears. “Your mother is selling Second Chapter to me for one dollar.”

His heartbeat accelerated. Via got Second Chapter after all. When he left Pecan Corner after he found out about her keeping Percival’s offer from him, he didn’t care about Earl’s will. She’d destroyed all the plans for a future with him and Second Chapter. Constance could have it. But for some bizarre reason, she was selling it to Via. Doing what Earl had wanted. That didn’t sound like the mother he knew. “You flew all the way here to tell me this?”

She took another step toward him, then glanced at his bare chest, her eyes widening. “Could you just slip on a shirt, please?”

“Two minutes, Via. Two minutes left.”

“Okay, okay. I read his journal too. I found out things I’d never known about his life. His family.”

Family. Earl’s family—hisfamily—was pathetic. “What’s your point?”

“I’m not the one who should own Second Chapter.” She held out his journal to him. “Earl’s legacy belongs to you.”

Via was shaking in the fleece-lined boots she had no business wearing in this LA heat. But that wasn’t what was making hersweat. He wasn’t looking at her coldly. She’d seen him freeze her out before, and she could handle it. It was the pain in his eyes that had her own heart breaking. He was fighting not to show it, but she could tell he was hurting. Hurt she’d caused by her own foolish decision not to trust him.

He looked at the journal. “You can keep it.”

“But Leo—”

“Is that all?”

She couldn’t fight the ache in her chest from missing him—pain that was growing stronger now that she was inches away and dying to touch him but didn’t have the right to. “I shouldn’t have kept Percival’s offer from you.” She almost launched into a litany of excuses about her trust issues. But she didn’t. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I should have trusted you.”

Leo’s pulse hammered as his insides quaked. She was apologizing, acknowledging her mistakes, and he believed her. It should be enough. He should tell her it was okay, that he forgave her. But he couldn’t. “I trusted you. I told you things about myself I’d never admitted to anyone. I—” He almost told her he loved her. Still did, despite what happened. And that was why he wouldn’t tell her. He’d been through enough pain, enough rejection in his life. Her not trusting him had been the biggest rejection of all. He’d spent his entire life trying to be enough for someone else. He couldn’t do it anymore.

And even though he thought all those things, he took a tiny step toward her, his arms yearning to hold her, to feel her against him. The movement was so small, he was sure she didn’t see him do it. But he knew, and he had to end it now, for good. “Youcan see yourself out.” He walked past her to the edge of the pool. Heard her sniff. Sensed her wiping her eyes.

“I found your letter.”

He halted. He still wasn’t sure why he’d written to his uncle, but when he finished it, he finally felt a tangible connection to him. He’d never expected anyone else to read it, especially Via. He turned and faced her.

“It was sticking out of the corner of the journal,” she said. “I doubt Constance saw it.”

He didn’t care if she did or not. His mother had no influence on his life.

She went to him. Her cheeks were dry now, although her eyes were puffy from crying. “I let my issues ruin what we had. I know that. I own it. You’re a good man, Leonardo Brewster. A trustworthy, honorable, wonderful man.”

His heart hitched. “Via—”

“And...” More tears filled her eyes. “I love you too.”

Via couldn’t move. Even the tears pooling in her eyes were still as she waited for his response. She’d spent weeks trying not to fall in love with this wonderful man, only to completely surrender her heart to him. She hadn’t planned on telling him she loved him. It might be the last thing he wanted to hear from her. But he had to know the truth.

He didn’t respond. Only held her gaze, the emotion in his eyes moving from hurt to surprise to something that made her heart sing. Then she was in his arms, his forehead pressing into her shoulder. She tilted her face to press her cheek to his, soaking in his familiar honey-leather scent.

Suddenly her cheeks were wet. She pulled away to wipe at her tears but felt nothing. She wasn’t crying.

He was.

He cradled her face, his loving gaze almost her undoing. As if he were unsure, he pressed a featherlight kiss on her mouth, only for it to turn more intense, reaching deep into her soul.

Still holding her, he said, “I shouldn’t have left the way I did.”

“And I should have told you about the offer—”

He put his fingertip over her lips. “We both have things to work through. I’m willing to do it together if you are.”