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“Lemons remind me of happiness.” “Happiness,” Lucian repeated, as though baffled. “I don’t know how else to explain it.” I shrugged with a small laugh. “I smell lemons, and I feel happy. Hopeful.”
Emma’s smile held the brilliance of the sun.
“Mamie . . .” I rubbed my face with a tired hand. “I haven’t lost my way a bit. I’m . . .” Broken. My throat closed up, and I grabbed a carton of eggs and a bowl. “I’m not the man I used to be. He’s just . . . gone. And what’s in his place isn’t anything a woman with a lick of sense would want.”
“I apologize that my behavior made you feel unsafe. It wasn’t my intention. If you believe anything about me, believe I will always be the guy who stands with you, never against you.”
“I want a taste. Please. God. Please, Em.”
It was irrational, annoying, nonsensical. You weren’t supposed to miss someone you barely knew. You weren’t supposed to crave the sight of them, the sound of their voice, the scent of their skin. Not like this.
