Page 96 of Fake It Till You Make It

She nodded in understanding. Bless Kanaan. He’d protected her. Of their own volition, her hands rose and to cup Eli’s face. She’d had every intention of choking him unconscious for ruining them, but her heart, the dopey eight-ounce organ, had her too devastated to act on the emotion.

“You know I respect your dedication to your father’s legacy. Honestly, I can’t imagine the pressure you experienced when the auction site went offline and you thought it all was at risk, but I can’t dismiss what you said to me, Eli.”

“I get it. The walls closed in—Cara, the website, the demolition equipment, the missing contract—it’s the worst feeling, being trapped without options. I lashed out. You got hurt in the process.”

“Not just me, Eli. When you blurted out what your father did with your college fund, using it to pay off the mortgage, keeping Leah in the dark about you working two jobs through college. How you must love him to protect him and your mother. Even agreeing to the auction, you’vedone all of this to protect his memory, but what about the living. Leah, Tobias, Noah?”

“I love my parents and my brothers. I’d do anything to protect them.”

“I know you would. Why couldn’t you do that for me?”

“Sweetheart, I got scared. One reminder of the old patterns in my marriage to Cara, and all the old fears took over.”

“That another woman would use you, and then discard you?”

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“When I look at you, I see the man that you are. Russell hurt me. My mother had to negotiate with my father to pay my college tuition, his own daughter. Two men who were supposed to love me hurt me, but I know you are not them.” She swallowed. “At least I thought I did. I thought you saw more than my hardworking hands, what I could do for you. I thought you saw my heart.”

“I’m sorry, Amarie.” He repeated a solemn anthem to what could’ve been.

“Yeah, me too,” she whispered, lowering her hands to her lap.

“Come back home with me?”

“I can’t, Eli.” She couldn’t make herself more vulnerable to him. If she returned to the cabin, their cozy couch, their animals, she’d crumble. Amarie had to care for Amarie first.

Eli sighed, and then pressed his lips to her temple. “Then I’ll stay where you are. For as long as you let me, I’ll stay, Amarie.”

Amarie looked into his green eyes, captured by their beauty. “Why? There’s nothing left for me to say.”

The light in his eyes dimmed. “Then I’ll wait… stay by your side until you leave mine.”

Amarie remained quiet. She inhaled his clean scent as she pushed images of their time together out of her mind. Sleep claimed her. As her curves softened, molded against his strength, she didn’t fight his embrace. This would be the last time she held the one man for her, the one grumpy vet love had brought her… she wanted to remember everything about this farewell because she was done faking it. Everything had a place in this world. The time had arrived for Amarie to claim hers.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

ELI ANDAMARIEwalked into his momma’s kitchen on Saturday morning rumpled and exhausted. Not because they had reconciled; rather, he was terrified to let her out of his line of sight because she’d barely said four words to him last night before she drifted into sleep. The best and worst night of sleep in his thirty-three years had happened in the back seat of a BMW 328i. Considering his years spent on an Army field cot, his muscles screamed from the unnatural position he’d twisted his back into to fit into Prince’s rear seat. But she’d refused to come home with him or return to Leah’s last night. His only saving grace, Amarie had let him hold her, but Eli had yet to exit the doghouse. After the heartbreak he’d witnessed in her haunted eyes, no way would he leave her. One look at Amarie’s drawn features this morning, his mom was on her feet, pulling his woman into a tight bear hug.

“Oh, dear.” She breathed in Amarie’s visible heartache. “I missed you so much. He’s a bonehead, sweetheart. I know it hurts.”

Amarie choked out a sniffle. “I’m okay.”

Eli’s heart shattered all over again. Clearly Amarie’s poker face couldn’t hide how much she was torn up inside. His mom stood in the gap between him and Amarie, keeping him an arm’s length away from his woman, when all he wanted to do was beg her to forgive his stupidity. The day was humid, but Eli had goosebumps from Amarie’s verbal freeze out. Because he knew her, the rambling when she was anxious, her near obsession with her snack pack. Last night, she’d given him nothing. Asked for nothing. True to fashion, she hadn’t been unkind, worse—she’d guarded herself against his presence. It was like she’d pulled up the drawbridge to her castle and he was on the other side of an alligator-infested moat gazing longingly up at her tower.

Leah gestured to the kitchen table, taking her seat. “Eli, you and Amarie come have a seat. Family meeting time.”

“Momma, we’re fresh from a shower.” Albeit not together. Amarie had waited on him to finish his shave before she entered the bathroom. Then she’d closed the door and locked it. Seems the wall between them was both physical and emotional. They had dressed in silence. When he’d offered to carry her backpack, she’d pulled it closer to her chest, like a shield. “I need caffeine before we start figuring out what’s next.”

“Morning everybody.” Amarie waved to Tobias and Noah. Hiccup released a woof, keeping watch of Amarie and the basket of kittens on her arm. She held a sentry position by the backdoor they’d used to enter. They’d left her car at his place after she’d snatched the key with Prince’s likeness, the artist, not the car.

“Eli Calvary, if you tell your momma ‘no’ one more time, I’m going to give your backside a knot to match the one on your skull.”

Noah walked over to Amarie and gave her a big hug. “Morning, lil sis. I was worried about you.”

Tobias stood, pulling out a chair between him and Noah for Amarie to sit. It about broke Eli’s heart when she looked relieved. He did this with his irrational fear that every woman would sabotage him, pretend to love him, and then betray him with a more polished, more moneyed replacement.

“Tobias. Noah,” he groused. Neither of his brothers uttered a word.