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He was the one to break it. “Do you want to have a quick look around or shall we head back?”

“We’ve come all this way. You should show me around.” She toed again at the snow. “Plus it looks like a Christmas card.”

“Okay then.” He reached out his hand and whether it was a desire to hold hers, or a silent apology, or simply to stop her from slipping, she didn’t care. She grabbed at it.

Despite the cold, some people had braved the park. Kids screamed as they went down the zip wire, adults scrambled up a sheer rock face with only a rope between them and certain death. “Do you really do that?” He looked over to where she pointed and nodded. “Wow, that must take balls.”

Finally a light came into his eyes. “You’ve felt my balls, Anna. You know exactly how big they are.”

* * *

There was nothing easy or simple about showing Anna around the outdoor center where he’d spent the last two years working. Where he’d taken Colin, a week before he’d died. And where he’d lived in one of the lodges until only a few weeks ago.

So many conflicting emotions played through his head, he felt drained from it all. Exhausted at having to pull back, keep his distance, when all he wanted to do was lift Anna off her feet, engulf her in the mother of all hugs and tell his conscience to fuck off.

He could forget his dream of running a center. Come back and work here instead, continue to meet up with Anna. Maybe even push aside his guilt and try to prove to himself, and to her, that he could be the man she needed, after all.

It surprised him how good that sounded. How much he was prepared to put his dream on hold to give himself a chance with her.

Yet wasn’t taking advantage of her big heart ultimately the most selfish thing he could do? Wasn’t it fairer on her if he took the job he’d been offered and left her to meet someone more like she was, another pea in her pod. A man unafraid to talk openly, to love freely, unburdened by guilt. An unselfish man who wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t let her down?

As long as he wasn’t an asshole called Phillip.

He recognized some of the kids doing the ariel tree top walk. They waved down from the balance beam.

“Hey Luke.” Marcus shouted down. “We’ve been looking for you. Where have you been?”

“I don’t work here anymore.”

“Aw, man, that sucks.”

He nodded up to Marcus, not trusting himself to speak. After he’d done his apprenticeship, he’d been a nomad, taking on seasonal work in National parks or outward-bound centers, leading groups in far flung places like the Alps, the Himalayas, the Inca Trail in Peru. Anything to distract from the loss of his mum and the wracking guilt of her death. He hadn’t needed a base because he’d had Colin; his friend hadn’t thought twice about jumping on a plane to join him on breaks from university. But then Colin had set up his tech startup, and the catching up had become harder. Luke had missed him acutely, missed the nearest thing to family he had. So he’d made the decision to take on jobs in New Jersey so he could regularly meet up with the man he’d called his brother.

Now he, too, was gone. What was that saying? To lose one family member is a misfortune, to lose a second looks like carelessness?

He couldn’t help but think God had punished him for being careless with his mum, by taking away Colin. And hadn’t he been careless with him, too, at the end?

It all left him . . . where, exactly? Where did he belong? Could North Carolina be a fresh start? A place where, if he ever got lucky enough to have someone care for him again, he could manage not to fuck things up?

“Is coming back to work here on your list of options?” Anna’s quiet voice ripped through his despairing thoughts. “When I asked earlier, you didn’t reply.”

“Yeah, it’s an option.” But was it really one he should be considering? “Have you seen enough?”

“Sure, if you have.”

“I spent two years here, I know exactly what it has to offer.” The familiar burn punched a hole through his gut. “I brought Colin here the week before he died.”

Her gaze bumped to his. “Was that the day—”

“He came back absolutely shattered?” Guilt rolled through him and he had to look away from her. “Yeah.”

“I was so mad at you.”

“I remember.” His throat locked tight and he struggled to get the next words out. “I was stupid. I pushed him too hard that day.” Colin had wanted to do everything, and Luke had been desperate to give them both a day when they could pretend Colin wasn’t dying.

A heavy silence fell between them and he knew Anna, like him, was feeling the sharp loss of the man who’d thrown them together.

“He told me he’d had the best time,” she said finally into the silence. He turned to look at her and the compassion in her eyes nearly broke him. “He said he’d gone on a zip line. That you’d carried him up to a look out where he’d sat and watched deer grazing and otters playing at the edge of a lake.”