Read Online What Might Have Been by Kira Sinclair - Free Book Online Page B

livelihood. She stared as the train went round and round the track and was embarrassed to feel tears sting her eyes. Alex would have loved something like this.
    She could just see him, seven now, bouncing up and down on his knees as he manipulated the controls of the train. In her mind she saw long, masculine legs cross the scene to rescue the overturned train from the wreck her rambunctious son had caused. And realized it wasn’t Logan in the scene in her head, but Luke.
    Blinking away the vision of what might have been, she was startled to see Luke standing beside her, his reflection in the window watery and weak.
    Spinning around, she put her hand to her thumping chest. “You startled me.”
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You seemed so engrossed in watching the train.”
    She shook her head, swallowing the lump of tears that was lodged in her throat.
    â€œAre you ready to go?” Luke asked.
    â€œAbsolutely.”
    He fell into step beside her as they headed to the car.
    â€œWhat were you thinking about back there?”
    As much as she wanted to outpace him, and the future they’d never have—she knew she couldn’t. His legs were so much longer than hers.
    â€œYou looked so sad.”
    â€œI was thinking about…Logan.”
    She’d almost told him, the combination of the powerful image still lingering in her mind and Gran’s words making her tongue loose.
    But this wasn’t the time. Or the place.
    â€œLogan.” Luke’s voice was suddenly gruff. And hard in a way that made her shiver.
    His face closed down, going from optimistic and happy to thoughtful and displeased in the blink of an eye.
    â€œDid you get what you needed?” She hadn’t realized until the expression was gone, but he’d certainly looked content with whatever he’d found in the courthouse.
    His only response was a nod.
    She slipped back into the welcoming leather seats of his car. They rode in silence again, only this time instead of being pleasant and almost comforting, it was fraught with unsaid words and accusations.
    Leaning her elbow on the armrest, she propped her head on her fist and stared out the window. The scenery was as familiar to her as her own body. And yet, she didn’t even really see it.
    She didn’t realize what he was doing until he’d pulled off onto the shoulder of the deserted country road. Therewas a patch of gravel, sprinkled just before the bridge across one of the local creeks. She supposed it was there for people who wanted to pull off and do a little fishing.
    They were hardly here for a quick cast.
    â€œWhat are you doing?”
    Killing the engine and slipping the keys into his pocket—the pocket farthest from her—he said, “Tell me about Logan.”
    She looked at him as if he’d gone crazy and for a moment wondered if he actually had.
    â€œAbout your marriage.”
    And in the blink of an eye she understood.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause I want to know.”
    â€œNo, you don’t. You want to punish me. You want to hurt yourself. Why?”
    He laughed, a sound that didn’t come close to making her feel warm and fuzzy. “Maybe I’m a masochist.”
    â€œMaybe you should let it go.”
    With a growl, he pushed open the door and jumped out. He prowled to the hood of the car, his body taut with quiet grace and barely leashed fury.
    She watched him. She couldn’t stop herself. There was no denying he was beautiful. It would have been like trying to convince herself the sky was green. You couldn’t dispute what was in front of your face.
    She crawled from the car, as well. There was something about the lonely way he stood there, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his back so straight and stiff shewanted to reach out and smooth her hand down it. Smooth the tension away.
    But she didn’t touch him. She didn’t think either of them could take that right