Where the Heart Is by Darcy Burke Page A

deep breath. He could do this.
    Pushing open the door, he stepped into the warmth and bustle of the pub. The smell of fresh fries taunted his nose as he looked around for Chloe. He saw her approaching the bar from one of the tables in the back and met her there.
    â€œHi,” he said, tentatively.
    â€œHi,” she said, coming around to the side of the bar and eyeing the flowers.
    He held them out to her. “These are for you. Because I’m a jerk. Or an ass. Or both.”
    â€œYou’re neither,” she said, surprising him. She accepted the flowers. “These are gorgeous.” She smelled one of the dark red roses. For florist flowers, they had at least a nominal scent, which Derek was grateful for.
    â€œThe pine smells really good,” he said, stupidly, “like your hair.” Really stupidly.
    She arched a blond brow at him, then her mouth cracked into a small smile. “I forgive you. Thanks.”
    It couldn’t be that easy. Still, he exhaled in relief. “Thank you . I’m sorry I didn’t come to dinner. That was a dick move.”
    â€œYes, it was, but I understand.” She peered at him over the flowers, looking hesitant. “I’m not sure what else to say. You left in such a hurry . . .”
    The ball was totally in his court. “I know. It’s just . . . the house.”
    She spoke slowly, as if she were choosing her words carefully. “Maybe I shouldn’t move into your house. I talked to Rob last night, and he has a small rental in Newberg that I can afford.”
    He didn’t want her to live that far away. But the alternative . . . Sound, like rushing water, roared through his ears and the floor seemed to move beneath his feet. This was ridiculous. It was a house . Where he’d once lived a long time ago. Ten years had gone by since he’d lived there—longer than he’d even called it home. Wasn’t it time to let the past go? Rob and Emily would say so. Still, the thought of going there after steadfastly avoiding it for a decade, which was no easy feat in a town this size, filled him with anxiety.
    But it was past time for him to get over it already. “Take it.” He said the words, but it sounded like they came from very far away. “I want you to,” he added, more to convince himself than her.
    Her eyes widened briefly, then filled with concern. “Are you sure?”
    He nodded, unsure he could get the word “yes” past his lips.
    She looked uncertain, but lightly touched his hand. “If you say so.” She smiled reassuringly. “I’m going to put these in water and check on some tables. You’re not going to run off again, are you?”
    He deserved that. “No.”
    â€œGood.” She smiled before turning and going toward the back.
    Derek practically sagged against the side of the bar. He leaned his elbow on the edge and slumped into a stool. His heart was beating fast, and a chill had stolen over the back of his neck. Maybe he needed to see Alex’s therapist to work through this.
    â€œWhat’s with the flowers?” George’s question startled Derek.
    He turned to look at the bartender, whose gaze was inquisitively frank behind his bifocals. “I messed up.”
    George tsked as he shook his head. “Just flowers? Women are a little more complicated these days. I hope you’re taking her to dinner, or maybe you brought chocolate too.”
    No, but he should’ve.
    â€œWhat’d you do?” George asked, pulling a pint of Crossbow and handing it to Derek.
    Derek took a drink of the wonderfully cold beer instead of answering.
    â€œEh, doesn’t matter.” George narrowed his eyes and leaned a bit over the bar. “Pull yourself together, boy. That girl’s the real deal. Don’t you dare break her heart.”
    Derek set his beer down and squared himself toward George, interested in what the man had to say. “How