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She flung the door open as he sauntered up the walkway. “You’d better have a terrific reason for coming here. This can’t be a social call.”
“Maybe it is a social call.”
His expression gave away nothing. Jace always did play it close to the vest. Kara almost didn’t let him enter, but out of a sense of curiosity, she stepped back and closed the door behind him. Jace strode into the living room as if he belonged here.
“Why are you here?”
He looked incongruous standing there, larger than life, as out of place as the statue ofDaviddisplayed in a garbage dump. The delicate silk-covered chair by the window looked too fragile to support his muscled weight, while his biker boots would leave marks if he propped them up on her glass coffee table.
He looked around the room. “Place looks nice.”
“It’s an investment in a home in a nice neighborhood. I’m thinking of my future, something I once thought you did as well.”
Those wide shoulders lifted as he raked a hand through his long hair, making the curls messier and somewhat endearing. Do not go there, she cautioned herself.
“Got bored with planning a future.”
Jace glanced around, his blue gaze sharpening as he took in the artwork on the walls, the inlaid bookshelves filled with well-loved paperbacks, not leather-bound antiques.
He strode over, past the twin mirrors framing the inlaid fireplace and the brass lamps set upon matching tables, and removed a book from the shelf. Kara inwardly fumed as he thumbed through the pages of a well-known thriller novel.
Jace arched a dark eyebrow. “Kind of plebeian for someone with your breeding.”
She snatched the book back and set it on the table. “I enjoy reading all genres. Unlike you and those foul-mouthed knuckle-draggers whose company you’re frequenting. I imagine your reading choices are limited these days to beer-bottle labels.”
Something flickered in his gaze. Kara felt a tug of remorse for sharp words. This wasn’t her. Not him.
“Touché. Guess you have me pinned down.”
“I’m sorry. That was nasty and that’s not me. What happened to us, Jace?” she asked quietly.
His chest rose and fell, as if he’d inhaled her words. “We knew each other really well. Maybe too well.”
“When did we become cruel instead of being each other’s everything?”
For a moment, his expression turned haunted. “People change.”
“Or don’t.” Kara thought of all the reasons she’d broken it off with him. “It’s obvious you still adore that machine in my driveway.”
Now, he did look at her, his blue gaze narrowing. “I told you riding bikes wasn’t something I was willing to give up. Not for you, or anyone.”
“Don’t put this on me, Jace. Keep denying it, but we both know your motorcycle meant more than I did.”
Jace went over to the windows, jerked the drapes shut. His jaw tensed, as if he was trying to keep back words he wanted to spill out.
“It never did, Kara. You were unreasonable. I never much liked your habit of taking an Uber to the grocery store, but I never asked you to give it up. Yet you insisted I give up my bike.”
“Motorcycles are dangerous!”
“And I told you, I’m careful. I was willing to give up time with my bike, but you sure as hell weren’t willing to compromise so we could spend more time together.”
Guilt rippled through her. “You knew how important my work was.”
“I felt like you were penciling me into your schedule just so we could have dinner once a week, and even then you canceled.”
“And you roared off on your bike even when I tried to make time for you. God only knows where you went. You never told me. For all I know, you went to see your family—the family you refused for me to meet. Even after you asked me to marry you, you changed the subject when I asked about meeting your parents.”
“Don’t go there, Kara,” he said in a low voice. “You know this wasn’t about my bike, or my family.”
