Page 150 of Seale the Deal

Okay, I say. I need to go deal with something.

Everything okay? Wrenley asks.

Yeah. I brush my thumb across her cheek. There’s just something I’ve been meaning to do.

She studies me for a long second before nodding. Okay.

I look at Remi. Can you bring her home?

Of course.

I lean down and kiss Wrenley gently. Call if you need me.

I will.

Only then do I step back.

Chapter 31

Ruger

DAYS LEFT ON VISA: 34

The whole drive to Walter’s coffee shop, my chest hurts, like there’s a fist wrapped around my heart and is squeezing until I can’t breathe. I’ve fallen from a tree, been thrown from a snowmobile, worked myself to the bone in subzero weather, but nothing hurts like this.

Wrenley might leave. And the truth is, there’s nothing I can do to stop her. I can’t beg her to stay. Can’t guilt her into building a life she doesn’t want. As much as it kills me, it’s not my place to tell her what her future should look like. All I can do is stand beside her. Keep my word. Follow through on the promise I made when we started this whole mess. Marry her, give her my name, my home, and my protection, whether or not she stays after.

I pull up in front of Walter’s coffee shop, my chest so tight I half expect to keel over on the steering wheel. Every mile of the drive here felt like dragging a boulder through wet snow.

I step inside. The air smells like roasted beans and sugar, but my stomach rolls. Walter is wiping down a table, his usual cheeriness plastered across his face.

Well, hello, he says, his voice warm as the cup of coffee I suddenly wish I could stomach. To what do I owe the pleasure?

My hands shake at my sides.

Walter has always been a steady and loyal friend to everyone in this town. He always seems to know when someone needs a cup of coffee, a place to sit, or a few words of encouragement.

Right now, I need all three.

Do you have a minute? My voice cracks on the words. I need to talk to you about Wrenley.

Walter stills. His smile drops, replaced with concern. He tosses his rag aside. Of course. Come on.

He leads me behind the counter, through the cramped kitchen, and out the back door. We step onto a little patio with its peeling iron furniture. The chair digs into me, stiff and unforgiving.

Walter sits across from me, folding his hands. What’s going on, Ruger?

I pick at a spot of rust on the table, anything to avoid his eyes. I put down a deposit on the Cultural Center.

That’s great! Why do you look like someone died?

I drag a hand down my face. If I keep it in, I’ll choke on it.

So I tell him everything.

I tell him how the whole thing started as a ridiculous plan to get Wrenley into the United States. How she’d been all but blacklisted in Canada and needed a way out. How the idea was always that she’d come to Alaska, get married, get a green card, and eventually move on to someplace bigger where she could build the fashion career she wanted in the first place.

I tell him how I never thought any of it would matter because I wasn’t looking for a relationship. Then Wrenley showed up and somehow became the first person I wanted to see every morning and the last person I wanted to talk to before I went to sleep.