The Redemption Of Lillie Rourke. Loree Lough
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Название: The Redemption Of Lillie Rourke

Автор: Loree Lough

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

Серия:

isbn: 9781474084963

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      “Play an instrument?”

      “Guitar. Practically the only thing I owned that I didn’t sell for, well, you know.”

      “Yeah, I do.” He picked at the bottle’s label. “I have an Ovation. Belonged to my grandfather. And like you, it’s one of a handful of things I held on to.”

      “Mine is handcrafted. It’s a MacCubbin. It has a great sound.” Jase had scrimped to give it to her the Christmas before she left for Rising Sun. While living at the center—and ever since—she’d taken the instrument from its plush-lined case only to change the strings and buff the Brazilian rosewood to a fine sheen. The calluses on her fingertips had all but disappeared, because she couldn’t bear to hear the resonant tones that reminded her of the music she and Jase had made together.

      “You going back to it now? Music, I mean?”

      And think about the way she once shared a mic with Jase, creating perfect harmony?

      “Absolutely not.”

      “I get it. Too much temptation.”

      Lillie had earned her keep at Pete’s, serving liquor of every description, and managed to stay away from it. And yet she said, “Something like that.”

      Gabe yawned. “Well, I hope you won’t think I’m rude or anything, but I’m gonna try to catch a few z’s before our first stop.”

      “Good idea. I might do the same.”

      Moments later, listening to his soft, steady snores, Lillie closed her eyes. But she didn’t expect to sleep, not with all those newly awakened memories whirling in her mind.

      She was surprised when the lurch of the bus startled her awake.

      “Hey, thanks for keeping me company. It was great talking with you,” Gabe said, standing as she pulled her rolling suitcase from the overhead bin. “Maybe we can exchange numbers, do coffee if I ever get to Baltimore.”

      He produced an old envelope and a ballpoint, and not knowing how to say not interested without hurting his feelings, she accepted both. As she wrote her first name, Lillie was tempted to change a digit or two in her cell number. But starting her new life on a lie, even one that small, didn’t seem like a good idea. So she handed back the pen and the envelope.

      “Thanks,” she said, “but...”

      Gabe took it and, he must’ve read her hesitation because he said, “I get it.” He shrugged. “Good luck to you.”

      “And to you.”

      She meant it, but if he ever did call, she’d find a reason to decline. She was in no position to start anything—not even a friendship—with anyone. Not until she had a better handle on who and what she had been...and what she’d done.

      Besides, she wanted Jase, and no one else.

      The admission gave her the strength to make a decision that had been a long time coming: she’d earn his trust again, no matter what it took.

      * * *

      “LILLIAN MARIE ROURKE, is that you?”

      Only one person had ever called her by her full name. Heart drumming with joy—and dread—Lillie turned toward the robust voice.

      “Dad! It’s so great to see you.”

      “My, my, my,” her dad said, gripping her biceps, “just look at you. Roses in your cheeks and sparkles in those big brown eyes. You look...” Liam wrapped her in a fierce hug. “You look healthy.” He held her at arm’s length again. “Are you happy, Lill?”

      She was glad to be home, with rehab behind her. Glad to have put in hard, fourteen-hour days at work afterward. Lillie had saved a few thousand dollars, every penny earmarked to repay the last of her debts. Until then, she wouldn’t truly be happy, so she didn’t answer him directly.

      “Where’s Mom?”

      “At the inn, planning your homecoming.” He winked. “Here,” her dad said, grabbing her suitcase, “let me take that. Can you believe I found a space right out front?”

      Lillie followed him to the parking lot, tossed her backpack into the trunk beside the wheeled bag and climbed into the front seat. “You look wonderful,” she said. “Have you been dieting?”

      “Dieting? Me?” He laughed. “No, but I’ve started a new project at the inn. Turns out it’s good exercise.”

      “A project?”

      Liam started the car. “An addition.”

      “Ah, Mom’s kitchen bump-out.”

      “And screened-in porch.”

      “With a terrace beyond it?”

      “And a gazebo. And an arbor. I tell you, Lill, she’s more excited than a bride on her wedding day. She has visions of hosting wedding parties. None of those eight-bridesmaids-and-groomsmen shindigs, mind you. Don’t know where we’d put ’em all in a place the size of the White Roof.”

      Amelia had once dreamed of planning Lillie’s wedding. It was all she could talk about after Jase proposed. Back then, her mother had looked into the possibility of renting an arbor for them to exchange vows under. They’d trim it with white roses and baby’s breath. It would be a twilight ceremony, followed by a candlelight reception, complete with a string quartet, finger sandwiches and a four-tiered cake that Lillie would bake and decorate herself. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a completely impossible dream...

      “You won’t believe what your mother has done to that little room on the first floor of the turret.”

      “Let me guess... It’s where the brides and bridesmaids will get dressed...” Along with mothers of the brides...

      “A-yup.”

      Liam reached across the console and squeezed her hand. “It’s really good to have you home, kitten. We missed you.”

      How long since he’d called her that? Not since... Lillie shook off the hard memory.

      “I missed you guys, too.”

      “You’re really okay, then?”

      In other words, are you clean and sober, for real? “Yes, I’m fine. Fourteen months now.” And sixteen days.

      “What about all those aches and pains from the accident? They’re gone?”

      Translation: Pain meds had started her down the road to addiction; was it possible she’d make a U-turn at the first temptation? They’d warned her at rehab to expect varying levels of mistrust. So much for the “forewarned is forearmed” theory, she thought, doing her best to shake off the sting of reality.

      “Oh, I have the occasional ache, but who doesn’t? Don’t worry, though, I’ve fought too hard to put that life behind me. Forever. Ever. Period. Even if more surgery is in my future. Besides, СКАЧАТЬ