“Except you miss her.”
He nodded. “I miss her like I miss air. I shouldn’t have let her go. I didn’t realize until after she left that things between us were a little more real than I’d thought. I need to find her and win her back.”
“So do it.”
“I’m trying , but she won’t return my calls. Rightfully so, I might add.” He set his greasy sandwich down and stared at his plate. “I’m not sure how to get ahold of her.”
“Well, you’re doing me a solid, so I can do you a solid,” Rex said agreeably.
“That so?” Loch wiped his fingers absently, thinking about Taylor. She’d probably like Rex. And any horses that Loch bought. Though he’d have to get one for her, too, and it’d have to be gentle. Something high-spirited would dump her on the ground in an instant, his poor klutz. Providing she ever spoke to him again, of course. A hard, aching knot formed in his throat.
“Yeah, I know where she works.”
Loch paused. He turned to look at Rex, who was dragging fries through a pool of ketchup on his plate and then stuffing them into his mouth. “You do?”
“I do,” Rex said. “Ran across her the other day. You told me she wears a Doctor Who scarf and a kitty-cat backpack, right? Can’t be that many adult women that do that sort of thing. Plus, she was real cute. Brown hair? Round face?”
Loch nodded slowly, eyes wide. His heart thumped hard in his chest. “Where is she?”
Rex gestured at his food. “Lemme finish my food and I’ll show ya.”
***
When they left the diner, Rex led Loch down several streets teeming with pedestrians. He followed the man, pulse hammering wildly. Taylor was close, and he was dying to speak to her again. He wanted to look at her sweet face, to hear her happy laugh. To see her bright eyes sparkle when she found something funny.
God, he missed her. It was like being homesick all over again, except this time, Taylor was his home, and he was lost without her.
Rex stopped on a busy street corner, next to the crosswalk. He gestured across the street. “Over there. She’s been there every day for the last week giving out samples. Nice kid. She gives me extras and pretends like they’re leftovers.” He squinted up at Loch. “Don’t fuck it up this time.”
Loch gazed across the busy, traffic-filled street. There was a small table set up on a curb and he could see the back of a woman as she talked to people and made notes on a clipboard. She seemed to be handing something out. It was impossible to make out any features from this distance, but he noticed her trademark scarf and backpack.
Taylor.
His woman. His fiancée for a few days, until he’d fucked things up and didn’t realize what he’d had until he’d screwed it up. The sight of her made him ache with longing. She was beautiful, and the way she moved as she handed out samples and spoke to people just made his entire body tense with this uncomfortable, awkward need. Not sexual desire—though it wouldn’t take much for that—but just . . . a craving. Like a junkie.
Did she miss him? Did she wish he hadn’t been such a jerk? Did she regret leaving him like he regretted her leaving? Or was she fine without him? He wasn’t fine without her. Not in the slightest. She’d slipped into his life so effortlessly that he hadn’t realized how perfect for him she was until she was gone.
With Taylor, there was sunshine and life and laughter. Without her, there was nothing but clouds. Sappy, maybe, but the words had never felt truer.
“You just gonna stand there and gawk at her or you gonna go say something?” Rex elbowed him.
Right. Loch took a deep breath, then paused and looked over at Rex. “I’m not good at this sort of thing.”
“What sort of thing?”
“Admitting I was wrong. Asking for someone to come back. Telling her that I fucked up and was a prat. That I treated her unfairly.” He rubbed his neck, unbearably tense. He couldn’t mess this up. “What should I say?”
“Any of that is a pretty good starter.” Rex pushed at Loch’s back. “Now, quit being a pussy and get over there and talk to the girl. I’m going back to my spot. Thanks for lunch.”
“See you around,” Loch said absently, staring at Taylor from afar. She was talking animatedly to someone after handing them something. She laughed and his cock tightened in response. God, he loved that happy, carefree laugh of hers. It made his entire body light up.
Determined, he crossed the street, heading toward her.
Taylor’s back was to him, and as he approached, he studied her. She was talking animatedly, handing out something in tiny plastic cups. People paused, downed the sample, and then said something to her and she marked it down. Was she doing corner surveys for her new job, then? He approached her table from the side as Taylor talked to a woman, and gazed at the sign in front of the table.
RECIPE TASTE-TESTING! TASTE A DELICIOUS TREAT AND LET YOUR PREFERENCE BE KNOWN! RESEARCH SAMPLES FOR THE UPCOMING COOKBOOK, F IS FOR FLAVOR BY GRETCHEN PETTY-BUCHANAN.
“So did you like the lemon cake with the chocolate ganache in the middle layer or the lemon crème in the middle layer?” Taylor was asking, absorbed in her writing. She didn’t notice Loch standing nearby. That was fine. He could stare at her for a little longer, absorb every detail of her appearance. Memorize her lovely face and the way she licked her lips absently as she wrote.
“Chocolate,” the old woman told her, licking her fingers. “The other one was too lemony.”
“But it’s lemon cake,” Taylor said with a chuckle. “Shouldn’t it be lemony?”
“Yes, but chocolate makes everything better.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Taylor said, grinning. “I have your vote. Thank you so much.” She wrote a bit more, a lock of hair wishing in front of her face that Loch was dying to brush aside. She looked fantastic—her cheeks were ruddy with health, her smile was bright, and the capri pants she was wearing showed off her fantastic backside in the most mouthwatering of ways. He itched to touch her.
Instead, he approached the table.
“Hi there,” Taylor said without looking up. “Would you like to sample our lemon cake? We’re doing A/B testing and I have to warn you that if you have a nut, citrus, or dairy allergy you shouldn’t try any of . . .” Her voice trailed off as she looked up.
The smile on her face died.
It was like a punch in the gut. Fuck. He’d done that to her.
“Taylor. Hi.” Loch wanted to caress her cheek, to see the smile return. He wanted the light to come back to her eyes. “It’s me.”