Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
LUKE
M ack’s bachelor party is in full swing as I enter The Tap. A rowdy mix of familiar faces from Rebel Autos, a bunch of boxers from Raytown and Jefferson, and the knuckleheads who live up here on this mountain. It’s easy to forget how many people Waylon knows because the quiet makes it easy to forget the rest of the world up here.
“Hey, Luke!” Mack bellows over the din, raising his beer in salute.
I nod and weave through the crowd, making my way to where Mack stands, surrounded by a group of rowdy men well on their way to being drunk.
“Look at you!” I shout, clapping Mack on the back. “The last free night of your life.”
“Free?” Mack laughs, shaking his head, his short, dark hair catching the dim light. “Man, being with Aimee, that’s the freedom I’ve been looking for.”
“Come on, you can’t tell me you’re not gonna miss the wild nights,” Roman chimes in, slinging an arm around Mack’s shoulders.
“Wild nights don’t hold a candle to waking up next to Aimee every morning.” Mack’s brown eyes glint with sincerity. “When you find that one woman, your life makes sense, and all you want is to be with her and support her. I never thought I’d want a family of my own. Then Aimee came in with her vintage Mustang, and I was done for. I’m looking forward to the life we’re building together.”
I can’t help but feel a pang of envy. I’ve tried telling myself I didn’t want a woman in my life, but that kind of connection is something I’m desperate for–especially after seeing Jessica again.
“Cheers to that,” I say, lifting my glass, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim.
“Damn straight,” Roman agrees.
Quincy nods, and their expressions soften with unspoken understanding. They both got married not so long ago, and Quincy’s wife Claire is already pregnant with their second child.
“Here’s to Aimee, the woman who captured the heart of Mack Jennings,” Roman declares, and a round of cheers erupts as we all toast to Mack.
I take a swig of my beer, feeling the buzz of the alcohol and the heat of the party, but my thoughts drift to Jessica. More than ever, I know I need to call her. I can’t keep putting it off.
The door swings open with a flourish, slicing through the din of boisterous laughter and the music from the jukebox. A woman in a sequined bikini and impossibly high heels saunters into the room to a stream of catcalls and whistles. She’s all curves and confidence. The boys are hollering now, even some of the married ones, each trying to outdo each other.
“Hey, Luke, you’re missing the show!” Quincy nudges me, his grin as wide as the Grand Canyon. You’d think he didn’t have a pregnant wife at home, but I know he wouldn’t touch a stripper.
I force a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes, watching her move with practiced ease around the poles set up for the occasion. The woman knows what she’s doing, but watching her does nothing for me…except make me wish I was with Jessica.
“Isn’t she something?” another of the guys shouts, his words slurred by the alcohol that’s been free-flowing all night.
“Sure,” I manage to say, but my gaze drifts away, uninterested. I don’t want to be here.
“Man, what’s gotten into you?” A guy I don’t know throws an arm around my shoulder, and I feel the weight of his confusion.
But my thoughts are miles away, tangled up with images of Jessica—her long, black hair cascading over her shoulders, those bright blue eyes that light up when she laughs. It’s her laugh I want to hear right now, not these guys hollering over a stripper.
“Man, I’ve never seen you so out of it,” Reggie says, his hand landing heavily on my other shoulder as if trying to anchor me to this moment.
“Sorry, guys. This isn’t my scene,” I shrug off their hands. “Hey Mack, I need to duck out,” I say, catching him mid-laugh.
He turns, the light catching the gold in his hair, eyes crinkling with mirth. “What’s up? Got an emergency up on the mountain?”
“No. More like I need to go talk to someone,” I admit, my words barely audible over the noise in the bar.
“Man, if it’s about the stripper, don’t let it ruin your night.” Mack’s voice is thick with concern, but I shake my head. “These yokels think I should be fantasizing about cheap sex with a woman whose name I wouldn’t remember, but the truth is, I only have eyes for Aimee. The stripper is for the single guys, not those of us with a woman we love.
“Yeah, it’s something like that,” I admit, rubbing my palms on the side of my jeans. “I think I’ve found someone who could be my forever.”
“Seriously?” His eyebrows shoot up, a grin spreading across his face. “Who is she?”
“Jessica Pierce,” I admit, and there’s a reverence in her name that makes my heart kick against my ribs.
“Jake’s sister?” He claps me on the shoulder, laughter bubbling from his lips. “Does he know about this?”
“Yeah, he does. We’ve talked. I think we’re good.” I clap him back, a smile finding its way onto my face despite the nerves gnawing at my insides. “I’ll see you soon.”
I burst into the crisp night, leaving behind the heat of the party for the cool clarity of solitude. My boots thump against the pavement in a steady rhythm, echoing the heartbeat pulsing in my ears.
My thumbs hover over the screen, uncertainty a bitter aftertaste against the earlier adrenaline. I type, erase, and retype a message to Jessica.
Hey, it’s Luke. Can we meet? I’m headed to the coffee shop on Main.
Send. I haven’t felt apprehension like this since I was strapped into a Humvee, racing into battle with a loaded weapon in my hands. Anxiety coils in my stomach like barbed wire, but it’s tempered with a spark of excitement that sends a charge through my veins.
I get to the café and scan the menu board absentmindedly, too hopped up to think about drinking caffeine. A barista with an eclectic collection of tattoos on her arms offers me a small nod as she wipes down the espresso machine.
“Decaf coffee, please,” I manage, my voice steady despite the explosion of need and emotions inside my heart.
A vibration in my pocket pulls me back, and I fumble for my phone, anxious to see if she’ll even talk to me. It’s Jessica.
Sure, give me fifteen minutes.
I take a seat, my back to the wall, watching the door like my life depends on it.
“Here you go,” the waitress sets down a steaming mug in front of me.
“Thanks,” I murmur, though my gaze never leaves the entrance.
When the door finally opens and Jessica steps in, time stops. She’s silhouetted against the streetlamp outside, her long black hair a dark cascade gleaming under the coffee shop lights. Her eyes search the room, landing on me, and my pulse thrums with an intensity that makes me worry about the strength of my heart.
“Hey,” she calls out as she shrugs off her coat.
“Hey.” My reply is a croak, and I clear my throat as I stand. “Thanks for coming.”
“What’s up?”
“Jessica,” I start, my words trailing off as I lose myself in her blue eyes. Everything I want is wrapped up in Jessica, and I’m terrified I’m going to fuck things up again, or she’ll say no. After what I did, I couldn’t blame her for rejecting me, but everything I could ever hope for depends on her saying yes.
“Is everything okay?” Her face softens with concern, and it nearly does me in. Despite what happened the night of our date, I don’t know if it was all just fun and games or if I still had a chance.
“Everything is...” The admission comes out rawer than I intended.
Her hand reaches out, brushing mine. Electric desire courses through me.
“Explain what you mean?” She pauses for a second as the waitress comes and she orders chamomile tea.
I fumble with the paper napkin, tearing it into shreds as my heart hammers against my ribs. “Jessica,” I begin again, voice unsteady, “I owe you an apology—for everything that went down between us.” My gaze locks onto hers.
“Hey, Luke, we’re both adults. It didn’t work out before. We don’t have to read too much into the matchmaking thing. We can call it a dud,” she replies, a shadow falling across her eyes.
My heart can’t believe she means that. “No, listen.” I lean forward, my voice urgent. I need her to understand and not think I’m making easy excuses. “It was more than just bad timing or crossed wires. I never wanted to end things with you, Jessica, believe me. But I was dealing with shit from war, and I knew I couldn’t be the man you deserved. I didn’t want to hurt you by not being able to live up to the love I saw in your eyes.”
Her hand covers mine, and I let go of the half-shredded napkin. “Oh, Luke... Why didn’t you just talk to me?”
“Jessica,” I exhale her name. “I couldn’t talk about it for more than a year. Waylon finally got me to talk to a guy at Warrior Cares. It’s embarrassing to say I have a therapist, but I do. I don’t go often anymore, but it helps.” The rawness of my confession is like tearing open old scars, but it’s necessary. “I need you to know because I want to be the man you deserve. I want to be a man you could love. Not someone who came back from war broken.”
“Stop,” she interrupts gently, her grip on my hand tightening. “You’re not broken. You’re one of the strongest people I know, Luke. And you’re doing the work—that’s what counts.”
“Am I?” I ask. I don’t always believe that I’m doing everything I can. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just scratching the surface.”
“Then we’ll keep digging until you find the peace you need,” she declares, her voice fierce with conviction. “I’m here for you, Luke. All the way.”
“Jessica...” Her name spills out, tangled with all the hope and desire I’ve bottled up inside me. The air between us crackles with intensity. This is more terrifying than any battle I fought in.
“Whatever it takes, Luke. We’ll face it together.” Her thumbs stroke soothing circles over my knuckles and help calm the chaos inside me.
“Being with you tonight—it feels right, Jessica. Like coming home.”
“Good,” she whispers, leaning in so close our foreheads almost touch. “Because that’s exactly where you are, Luke. Home.”
Heavy desire builds in me. I want nothing more than to close the space between us—to taste the promise on her lips. But I hold back – she has to know this is more than physical.
Jessica gives me a look filled with tenderness and affection, and my impulse takes over. I lean across the table, capturing her lips with mine in a kiss that tells her exactly how I feel.
The kiss breaks, and the moment hangs between us, charged with a new electricity. Jessica’s breath comes in soft pants that fan across my cheek, sending a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the night air outside the coffee shop.
“Jess,” I start, voice hoarse with an emotion I can barely name, “Mack’s wedding is coming up...” My words trail off as I search her blue eyes, looking for a sign of where we stand.
“Y-yes?” She tilts her head slightly, a lock of her black hair falling across her face.
I reach out and tuck it gently behind her ear, the need to touch her an overwhelming force inside me. “Would you... I know you’re probably going already, but…would you be my date?” The question feels monumental, like I’m asking for more than just her presence at a wedding—I’m asking for a shot at something real.
Her lips part in surprise, her eyes widening before they soften with warmth. “Luke, I’d love to.”
“Really?” A stupid grin stretches across my face, and I feel lighter than I have in years.
“Really.” Jessica laughs, a sound that lights up the entire room—even this late-night corner of the world seems brighter with her in it.
“Good, because...” I reach for her hand, and she meets me halfway, her fingers intertwining with mine. “Because having you there with me would mean the world.”
“Would it?” There’s that playful challenge again, but this time, it’s laced with something sweeter—a promise, maybe, or a hope.
“It would be better than perfect. You’ll see.” I stand, pulling her gently to her feet. We’re close now, closer than before, and the space between us is charged with anticipation.
I’m never letting her go.