June, Reimagined (63)

Two people. June crept out of the closet and edged her way toward the bedroom door. The voices were muffled, but as she got closer to the doorway, she recognized Lennox’s and Angus’s deep voices.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Angus asked.

“Aye,” Lennox responded. “I fucked up. I can’t do it again.”

“You’re too damn hard on yourself. Any man would have done the same. It’s impossible to resist in the heat of the moment. Trust me, I know.”

“Well, I should have,” Lennox said. “I know better. Nothing good comes of it, but I got caught up seeing her like that. Lost bloody control of myself.”

June held her breath and pressed herself against the wall.

“Aye,” Angus said. “It’s hard to resist when the lass is on her back in need of you.”

“Makes me cringe just thinking about it. It was a goddamn mistake I wish I could erase, but I can’t.”

A gasp almost escaped June’s lips, but she clamped her mouth shut with her hand and bit the inside of her cheek. Was Lennox actually calling their night together a “goddamn mistake”?

“So, you’re going to Isobel?” Angus asked.

“Aye. She’s good for me. Best damn woman I’ve ever met. I need her. I’ve got to let go and move on. She’s the best person for that.”

Angus chuckled. “Took you long enough to figure that one out, mate. I’m glad you’re finally doing it. Isobel’ll be happy you’re making the commitment.”

“That woman’s been waiting five bloody years for this. ’Bout damn time I made her happy.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Don’t know.” June heard the familiar sound of Lennox filling the tea kettle. “I know I can’t change the past, Angus. God knows I would have if I could. But I don’t have to repeat it.”

“What do you want me to say if . . .” Angus trailed off.

“Nothing,” Lennox said. “Just make sure the lass doesn’t burn down the inn while I’m away.”

“She might be gone when you get back,” Angus said. “Have you thought of that?”

“That sure would save me an awkward conversation, wouldn’t it?”

Angus chuckled again. “Aye.” The kettle started to whistle. Lennox offered tea, but Angus said he was needed at the inn to help Amelia paint the living room, which had recently been emptied of its old furniture and now sat empty.

“She’s changing a damn lot,” Lennox said.

“It’s about time, don’t you think?” Angus said.

“Aye,” Lennox groaned. “Aren’t we all.”

Angus left. June tried to steady her breathing, but her heart was pounding. She hadn’t considered that, while, in her mind, she had said yes to Lennox, he might just say no. Worse, he might want someone else. June grabbed at her aching heart, then panicked. She was stuck in Lennox’s bedroom, wearing his clothes, like a raging lunatic. As if Lennox needed another reason to consider her a mistake.

She listened as he shuffled around the kitchen. Tea bags in a jar next to the stove. Milk in the fridge. He liked honey, to cut the bitterness of black tea. June had teased him, saying he took his tea like a teenage girl takes her coffee, light and sweet. To which he had replied, in a gravelly tone, “That’s the only thing light and sweet about me.”

June had laughed and wanted him more. She had never considered it a warning. How stupid.

Honey was in the cabinet to the right of the sink. The fact that she knew his house so well only made June’s heart ache more.

Lennox licked his lips when he drank tea, grabbing every bit of sweetness. He had a small dimple on his right cheek. He slung his arm over the back of the couch when he sat. He ran his hand down the strings of his guitar like he was making love to it.

June already felt the loss of him. But this was no time to crumble. She heard Lennox leave the kitchen. Soon his guitar sounded from the living room. This was her chance.

She flung off Lennox’s boots and hung up the flannel shirt. Objects she had conveniently avoided in Lennox’s room came into focus: The bed perfectly made, the room too neat. A packed duffel bag. And on top of it, a small velvet jewelry box.

June stood staring at it. Did she dare open it to see what was inside?

She stepped closer, reached for it, picked it up. The surface was soft. June cracked the box, just the tiniest bit, then dropped it back on the bed like a hot coal.

One very large problem remained. June was still upstairs. Lennox was downstairs. She crept on tiptoes to the staircase. Max was at the bottom. When he saw June, he picked up his head and barked.

“Wheesht, Max,” Lennox hollered from the living room.

This was June’s opportunity. She stepped cautiously down the first few steps and paused. Then a few more, to hear better. She steadied herself, her back pressed to the wall. She put her finger to her mouth to hush Max, then counted ten more steps. A right turn, four long steps to the door, and she would be free. Lennox would never know she had been in the house.

June bolted, as fast as she could, but near the bottom of the staircase, her foot caught on the crooked lip of a step. She stumbled and grabbed for the railing, only to realize there was no railing. Her ankle hit the bottom step and twisted. She yelped in pain as her knees gave out, and with a gigantic thud, she landed in a heap on the floor.