Until Then (The Blue Collar Boys #1)

12. Greer

12

Greer

“ I t’s fine. Be cool. Everything is going to be fine.” I repeat the mantra over and over as I walk the short distance to Luke’s patio. Maybe if I say it enough, my body will believe it.

Duke darts ahead and runs a few laps. Matt told me he was an old-timer, but I’m beginning to think Matt lied. A droplet of water from my wet hair crawls down the center of my chest. I hadn’t expected anyone, let alone Luke, to catch me working out. Not that I’m ashamed, cycling is the one exercise that’s easy on my leg, and I’m proud of how strong I’ve become. But it’s not every day your neighbor catches you mid-workout and smacking your own ass.

The me from a few weeks ago would have run and hid. The way Luke was looking at me . . . My body flushes thinking about it. He’s been the cool and confident one, so it was a pleasure watching him struggle to form words. Every time I’m around Luke, I feel a little safer, more secure, more willing to take risks.

I knock on the back door, hollering for Duke, who comes bounding up to sit at my side. Luke’s patio is pretty bare bones, just a grill and pile of camping chairs.

“Come on in,” Luke calls out, his muffled voice cutting through the glass of the sliding patio door.

Cool air blasts my cheeks as I enter his home, greeted by the heavenly scent of frying bacon. At first, I’m overwhelmed. I’d been too distracted the other night to give his home a once over, but now, in the light of day, it’s not the bachelor pad I anticipated. Unlike his sparse patio, every wall and surface holds the touch of a professional decorator. Warm brown and taupe tones adorn the furniture, while a stunning black wall provides a deep focal point for his TV and fireplace.

“Holy cow, this place is gorgeous.”

He doesn’t respond, focused instead on slicing vegetables with a towel casually slung over his shoulder. He’s clearly calmed down and looks handsome in a dark T-shirt and shorts. I immediately scan his body, happy to see his feet are bare.

“I’ll pass your compliments to Sutton.” He gestures to a barstool and I sit.

“I thought Sutton sold houses. I didn’t realize she could do this .” Large bookshelves bracket the fireplace. It’s an unexpected treasure, finding a collection large enough to rival my own—if most of my collection weren’t buried in my storage unit. Temptation to peek wins out.

“You read all these?” I run my fingers reverently over their spines, curious as to which are his favorites.

“Not all of them, but yes.” Bacon sizzles as he casually flips each piece.

Perusing each shelf, I spy several books with worn spines. I’m surprised to discover a leather-bound copy of Pride and Prejudice. “Which is your favorite?”

“ Lord of the Rings ,” he says without delay. “Yours?”

“That’s like asking me who my favorite student is.”

“I know you’d say all of them.” He smiles. “I bet you’re excited for next year.”

I step around the great room, an identical copy of my house except flipped. My hands graze over the supple leather of his couch and the soft blankets folded over the back.

“I really am,” I finally answer. “I’ve never taught the littles before, but I'm excited for something new.”

“You’re going to be amazing.”

Large, framed nature landscapes adorn the walls as well as photos of his family and friends. A pinch in my stomach reminds me of all the frames begging to be filled in my own home.

“I hope so.” I return to my barstool. “I figure a fresh start might be a blessing in disguise. I’ve been at my old school since I started my teaching career. Plus, it’ll be nice not to deal with middle-grade hormones. Can I help?”

“Sure.” Luke points to eggs as he sautés veggies.

Slipping around the kitchen island, I step into his space. I crack several eggs and whisk them together. “I'm curious, why Lord of the Rings ?”

Luke’s arm brushes mine as he reaches for tortillas, and my heart skips a beat.

“I’ve loved that book since I was a kid. Probably read it ten times. And I kind of relate to Samwise Gamgee.”

“Ah, the trusty friend willing to risk his own life for those he loves?” I pass him the eggs.

“Something like that.” He smiles. “You’ve read it?”

My cheeks redden. “Shockingly, no, but I’m obsessed with the movies. What are we eating?”

“Breakfast burritos. They’re my favorite. That okay?”

“They’re my favorite, too.” I don’t think I’ll ever stop smiling around him.

We spend the next hour cooking and eating, the flow of conversation never dulling. I learn that his favorite food is a double-bacon cheeseburger and his favorite movie is Up .

“There’s something about loving someone the way Carl loves Ellie,” he says, and my heart melts a little more. I’ve only ever been loved by a good man, so I know exactly what he means.

Our laughter fills the space as he regales me with stories of growing up with Sutton. When he talks about his father, my soul warms at how close they were and the love they shared.

He asks about me too. What I was like as a kid growing up, my parents and Gemma, and random other little things. I love how his eyes crinkle with laughter when I tell him about my love for electronic dance music.

“There’s just something about it,” I say. “You hear all these various beats and melodies. And, if it’s a good DJ, they’ll make you feel like you’re floating, and then, out of nowhere, the beat drops and you feel it everywhere.”

“You ever been to a show?” He takes our dishes to the sink.

“I wish!” I say. “Brian never really understood my love for EDM music.”

Luke looks at me, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve mentioned Brian without hesitation. Embarrassment crawls up my spine. I’m sure the last thing Luke probably wants to hear about is my husband—the man Death ripped from my life and my heart.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can talk about him.”

I button my lips, taken back by his response. A gentle silence descends upon the room, the only sound being the steady drip, drip, drip coming from the faucet.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“Greer, you have nothing to be sorry for.” He turns fully toward me, those amber eyes of his never straying from mine. “Brian was a huge part of your life. How can I get to know all the parts of you if I don’t also get to know those parts, the ones you spent with him?”

“Luke . . .”

“Listen, sweetheart,”—my heart stutters every time he calls me that—“I don’t know how to do this.” He gestures between the two of us as he leans back against the counter. “I know you’ve been through hell and, I don’t know, maybe you’re still there, but I can’t lie to you and say I’m not attracted to you. Because I am.”

His words hang in the air between us. I pluck them out and hide them away for later.

“And,” he continues, “I think, maybe, you might be attracted to me too. At least I sure as hell hope you are.”

I nod, and I love the small smile he returns.

“I’m also not blind to the fact,” Luke says, “that we're both in unfamiliar territory. I know you said you weren’t ready for anything more, and I’m trying my damnedest to follow that request, but I really want to know you, Greer.” He takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling, before whispering, “I want to know everything about you.”

“Okay.” The word tumbles out of my mouth.

“Okay?” His eyes are bright when they meet mine.

“I want to know you too.” I’d already decided the other night that I owe it to myself to at least explore these feelings I’m having for Luke.

“You do?”

“Yes . . .” I say, my heart in my throat. “But my heart . . . it’s still broken, and I can’t promise I won’t screw this up. Grief is part of me now, and it’s soul deep. The story of my life will never not be shadowed by it. It’s something I can promise you’ll be forced to deal with. Brian was a huge part of my life, and he always will be. I’m finally figuring out who I am without him. And, you deserve to know that I’ve never done this”—I motion between us—“before. I’ve only ever been with Brian. And . . . I’m scared.” I say the last part just above a whisper.

Luke squats down in front of me, taking my hands in his. “Scared of what?”

“So much.” Our eyes lock. “I don’t want to hurt you or myself or Brian.”

“Greer.” His hands cup my face. “We’ll just take it one day at a time. Okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper as a tear falls down my cheek. “I’d love nothing more than to know everything about you, Luke. As long as you’re okay with getting the bits and pieces of me that are left.”

“I’ll feel lucky to get to know any part of you that you’re willing to share with me. One day at a time, right?”

I nod as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

One day at a time. I can do that .

It’s just after noon when I pull into my parents’ driveway. Dad’s already got his head buried under the hood of his old 1960s Ford truck. He’s always tinkered with projects around the house. People used to ask him about having two girls and not a son. He was quick to tell them, “I was meant to be a girl dad.”

Gemma and I stuck to Dad like glue. We’d follow him around the house, eager to help with whatever project he was working on. Our favorite was this same old truck. It didn’t matter that we had no idea what a radiator was or what a Phillips screwdriver was; we just liked being near him. Dad always planned to fix the truck up and take it to vintage car shows, but it’s taken him a great number of years longer than we girls thought it would. Every time I see him, his to-do list for it grows. I’m starting to realize maybe it’s just his way of keeping me and Gemma coming around.

“Hey, sweet pea,” he says over the engine of his truck. “Whatcha up to?”

“Nothing, just haven’t seen you and Mama much. Thought I’d stop by.”

“We miss you too, Greer.” He never misses a thing. “How’s the new place?”

“It’s really great. Mama’s been a huge help, but I’ve had fun decorating on my own. Let’s just hope she approves.” I smile, thinking of her joy in beautifying a room.

“She’ll love anything you do.” He nods his head, fussing with a socket or wrench or something. “Mama says you’ve met some new friends?”

“Yes.” I grin, thinking of the girls. “Navy and Sutton. . . they’re . . . it’s like we were meant to be friends. It’s not like any friendship I’ve had before, ya know?”

He stops tinkering and places his elbows on the side of the truck. “That’s real good to hear, Greer. They must be something special.”

“They are, Daddy. I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

“Well, maybe it’s time you had a housewarming party or something. You know, so we could meet ’em.” His eyebrows raise, a hidden challenge there to my self-inflicted isolation.

“I . . . well, you know how I feel about. . . You know what,”—my eyes close as a laugh bubbles out of me—“I’ll talk to Mama and the girls. A party would be fun.”

Dad’s jaw drops, his eyes bugging out of his head.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I look over my shoulder thinking he’s seeing something I don’t.

“Nothing, baby girl. I just haven’t heard you laugh in a long time. I’ve really missed it.”

My cheeks flush as I fidget with various tools.

“These friends of yours,” Dad says, “must be something special if they’re bringing my girl back.”

It doesn’t take a genius to see that my connection with Navy and Sutton is special. I never thought it possible to meet anyone, let alone two women who truly listen to me and challenge my way of thinking. They make me laugh constantly, and there’s no pressure to be someone I’m not. Life has a funny way of giving you what you need when you’re not even looking for it.

“I don’t know about being back ,” I tell him. “But, I feel different lately.”

“Good different or bad different?”

“Good different.”

I’d been prepared to begin this new chapter of my life alone, but then Sutton stormed into my life. Now, she’s just there, her energy and companionship swirling around me. And Navy? I don’t think she had a choice. Sutton sucked her into her orbit and, like me, she’s happy to stay. And then there’s Luke.

My stomach whooshes as his amber eyes enter my mind. It’s been too long since a man has looked at me the way he does, talked to me the way he does. After his bumbling invite to breakfast, my battered heart was soothed knowing it wasn’t just me who was nervous.

The way he didn’t so much as flinch or cringe at the mention of Brian’s name. How do I get to know all the parts of you if I don’t get to know the part of you spent with him? It didn’t matter that he told me he was attracted to me and wanted to continue to get to know me because I’d already decided days ago that, no matter what, I had to know him. It feels right.

“I’m going out tonight,” I say.

“No shit?” Dad nearly drops his wrench.

“Going dancing in fact.”

“Well, I’ll be. Who are ya going with?”

“The girls and Luke and his friends.”

“Luke, huh?”

“Yeah, he’s my neighbor, remember?”

“I remember. Met him a few times leaving your place.”

“And? What did you think of him?”

Dad sees right through my bullshit. Never in my life could I have predicted I’d be asking my dad for dating advice again.

“Think of who?” Mom comes up behind him and hands him a glass of water.

“Greer’s neighbor, Luke,” he tells her before taking a gulp.

“Luke, hmm?” she says.

“Yes,” I say, “a group of us are going out dancing tonight and Luke and I are going together.” I say the last word quietly, not sure how they’ll react knowing this could be an actual date. Like me, they only know me with Brian.

“Greer, sweetie, that’s just wonderful,” Mom says, a dreamy look appearing on her face.

“Yes, sweet pea,” Dad says, “it really is.”

Fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, I ask, “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

They share a look, communicating silently. Mom comes around the truck and wraps her arm around my waist.

“The only person who can dictate the timeline of your life is you. What does your heart tell you?”

“What about what other people will think? What they’ll say? It’s not even been a year.”

“Now, Greer,” Mom says, “your daddy and I didn’t raise you to be concerned with the opinions of others. Everyone who has lost a significant other approaches the next phase of their life differently. Sure, it’s been less than a year. Who cares? If we’ve learned anything from losing Brian, it’s that life is unpredictable, and, no matter how many decades we think we’ll spend on earth, they’re never guaranteed. You have to live your life fully, every day, because you never know if it could be your last.” Emotion clogs her throat as she lays her head on my shoulder.

“Brian,” Dad adds, “would want you to find love again.”

“Do you like this Luke?” Mom nudges my arm.

“I do,” I say. “Very much. He’s very patient and kind. You should see him with us, Duke and me. And he’s an amazing brother and friend. It’s like he’s the sun who keeps everyone warm.” I can practically feel his warmth now even though he’s nowhere nearby.

“And how do you feel when you’re around him?” Mom prompts, digging in that way only moms know how.

I can’t stop smiling. “I, well, it sounds lame but . . . I kind of like me better when I’m around him.”

Mom sighs. “Well, that’s just wonderful.”

“It’s very exciting, Greer,” Dad pipes in. He’s got his head buried under the hood again, so we can barely hear him.

“It is?” I ask.

“Of course.” He pops up over the hood. “Opening your heart again after loss must be very difficult, but it is exciting. You fell in love with Brian and loved him completely for eight years. You’ll never stop loving Brian, but now, you have the opportunity to fall in love again, move forward with your life, and find a new version of happiness.”

“No one said I was falling in love,” I remind him.

“You won’t know unless you open your heart and mind to it,” he counters.

“Have you and Luke talked about what this means?” Mom asks as she steps nearer to me.

“We did this morning,” I say. “He’s so . . . he’s so accepting of it. He told me he wants to know all the parts of me, even the ones spent with Brian.”

“Had a feeling I'd liked him,” Dad says, dabbing the corner of his eye.

“Well,” Mom says, “this is just wonderful.”

“You keep saying that, Mama.” I playfully bump her hip.

“It is, Greer,” Mom says. “We are all afraid to love. Of course we are. Hearts are fragile and delicate things. You’ve had yours shattered, and, as your mother, I worry about you. I want your heart to be whole and happy.”

“I don’t think it’ll ever be whole,” I say.

“It won’t be,” Dad says. “And whoever you invite into your life will know that too. But, when you’re ready, you have to be willing to allow yourself, and him, the chance to mend it.”

“Now, for the most important question,” Mom says, “what are you going to wear?”

My stomach drops. I’ve been so focused on everything going on between Luke and me, it hadn’t crossed my mind to consider what to wear.

“Shit. I-I don’t know. Maybe a dress.”

“Greer Ashbury,” Mom says, “you are not wearing one of your school dresses on a night out with Luke and your new friends. Grab your purse. We’re going shopping.” Mom whips around, dashing inside to grab her things.

“You walked right into that one.” Dad chuckles.

“Thanks, Daddy.” He’s already got his arms open, waiting to envelop me in a tight hug.

“I’m proud of you, Greer. I know this is new and hard for you, but I’m so damned proud of you for being willing to try. Sounds like you’ve met some pretty great people.”

“I really have. It’s like they fell out of the sky.”

“The people who are meant to find you always will.”

“C’mon, Greer,” Mom hollers from the garage. “Get your butt in the car!”

“Oh man, wish me luck.” Dad’s laugh echoes behind me as I jog to Mom’s truck.