Chapter Twenty-Nine
Luca texts me a little past six. Get up sleepyhead. We already don’t have time to see everything I want to show you.
I don’t tell him I’ve been up since dawn, trying to push thoughts of him away. See you downstairs.
I get ready and grab my things. Part of me is dreading today, and part of me wants to live in it forever. No wonder there are so many stories about love. It’s a mess.
When I get to the kitchen, Luca is already there, putting food and stainless-steel bottles of water into a small cooler. The only other person there is Luca’s grandmother, who shares her steaming Earl Grey tea and lemon-poppy scones with me.
“They’re vegan,” she says. “I checked with Iona.”
I smile and slather on some vegan butter.
“My dear,” she says, “I hope you’re looking forward to tonight as much as I.”
“I am, thank you,” I say, even though I’m pretty sure coming here has been a terrible mistake. I would’ve been a lot better off if I’d never had this glimpse of Luca Kinnaird in his natural habitat. Having him in my mind’s eye as he is now, leaning against the black AGA stove with his blue T-shirt snug across his shoulders and a hint of stubble on his smile, is just going to make him harder to forget. Impossible, really.
“Did your dress come yet?” Luca asks as he downs some orange juice.
“No, but Dani said she was overnighting it to be here before three.”
Luca nods, and we clean up our breakfast things and set out. When we get to the garage, Luca gives me a choice.
“So, do you want to take my dad’s 1966 Aston Martin or my Vantage?” He points to a modern convertible. “Oh, and my dad’s car has been converted to an electric engine, so no worries there. See how well you have me trained to think about these things?” He grins at me.
His dad’s coupe is really cute, but I choose Luca’s car because it’s his. I might as well be a glutton.
“I thought you’d pick the classic.”
“Another day,” I say. But then I hesitate because the back seat is nonexistent. “There’s no place for Andrew to sit.”
“I didn’t ask him. I thought it would give us a chance to chat.” His eyes dart about.
Jasmine’s latest demand is apparently going to take some serious explaining. So much for not being alone with Luca.
“Is that okay?” He looks concerned.
“Of course.” I don’t think he believes me any more than I believe myself, but he nods and opens the door for me.
We drive to a marina on the southern end of Oban. It’s much smaller than the marina in town. The views across the secluded little harbor of Loch Feochan are so pretty that I take pictures just for me.
The Kinnairds’ sailboat looks like something out of a New England travel brochure. “Do you like her?” Luca asks as he pulls me onto the deck. “She was built by a company in Maine.”
“Really?”
“Aye. A town called Boothbay?”
“Oh, that’s north of my granddad’s place, on the way up to Acadia.”
“Well, if you ever invite me to Maine, we’ll rent a boat and go exploring.”
I smile, but it takes so much effort.
“It’s not a yacht, though,” he adds apologetically.
I channel Kelsey’s most annoying tone. “Hashtag ‘slumming in Oban.’?”
Luca cracks up, which makes me laugh, too.
We stow the food and other supplies in a little cuddy toward the bow. He explains how the rigging works and all the main features. “June’s the best sailing weather of the year, but July’s still good. We’ll never get as far as we could have yesterday, though. I really wanted to take you around Mull. I’m sorry.”
I nod, trying not to think about his escapades with Jasmine. “I’ve never seen any of it, so whatever we see will be awesome.”
He smiles and tugs my baseball cap into place. “We’ll go up toward Tobermory, at least, and see the puffins and seals. But we won’t get far enough for whale watching.”
“Puffins and seals are perfect.”
We navigate out of the little harbor to the channel that will take us to the Sound of Mull, just north of Oban. Boats are everywhere, and Luca yields to the big ferries and cruisers taking people to and from towns like Oban. He sails us past Lismore where there’s a pretty, white lighthouse set into what looks like a fortress, framed by blue mountains. We pass shores with hillsides of variegated greens and rocks, dotted with little inlets at their bases. Luca knows exactly where he wants to go, and sometimes we dip into quiet little coves and wade about in the cold water. But he doesn’t bring up Jasmine, and I don’t make him. I’m enjoying these “just us” moments too much.
The morning passes quickly. The sailboat skimming through the water is how I imagine flying must feel to a bird. Luca has me steer sometimes, his arms guiding mine through the narrow places. I thought I was so used to him being near me, touching me, that it couldn’t matter, but today I notice every tiny vibration as if I’ve suddenly developed bat senses. An eagle follows us for a bit, and we anchor and watch a puffin colony cascade into the water from volcanic cliffs. They catch their shiny, silver fish in clumps and take them up high to their pufflings, who are almost ready to fledge. Then Luca takes me to a place where a colony of common seals comes every summer to raise their young.
“You won’t see gray seal pups until autumn, so you’ll have to come back then,” Luca says, as if it could happen. I’d like to bring my mom here, someday, but right now, I can’t imagine when it wouldn’t hurt. We take too many selfies and photos and eat cucumber sandwiches with vegan cream cheese, and Luca tells me all about the seals. It’s like we’re both making the most of our last hurrah.
“I don’t know why my family acted so surprised I’d help you with the farm sanctuary. I volunteer with the local marine conservation groups here to help with research and rescue efforts every chance I get. It’s like they believe the tabloid version of me more than the one they know.”
“You never told me about volunteering.”
He laughs a little. “I should have. Nobody else really cares.”
So he tells me about that and the food chains and basking sharks and Minke whales, and even about the shelves and banks that form the gravels and sands of the seagrass beds. He knows a lot about the islands.
It’s almost three o’clock when we stop at the Tobermory harbor. Colorful buildings anchor the town to the water in pinks and oranges and blues. We stroll along the harbor road for a bit, window-shopping. Luca pulls me into a sweet shop to pick out chocolates for his grandmother, and we decide to get ice cream.
“It’s not gelato,” Luca says as we consider our options, and he falls into our old patterns from Rome, wrapping his arms around me and looking at the glass cases over my shoulder, the edge of his cheek resting against my temple, the soft woodsy scent of his aftershave blanketing me. He pulls back suddenly.
“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I forgot there’s no one watching us here.”
I don’t tell him it’s fine, the way I normally would.
“We should start for home,” he says as he pays, checking a waterproof watch he’s wearing.
We return the way we came. The clouds are heavier now, but they’re like big, puffy clowns floating above us in oversized shoes. As we get near the end of the channel, Luca steers us into a little cove. “This is my favorite place,” he says. “You have to see it.”
A long, pebbled beach lies at the bottom of a gently sloping hill. Streams of wildflowers cascade over the rocks and through the grass toward the water. I snap a photo, but Luca’s attention is drawn to the far corner of the cove. Seagulls hover over something on the beach that looks like a lump of clothing washed up.
Luca pulls us as close as he can. A furry animal lies on the rocky sand.
“What is it?”
“Otter.” He slips his phone into a plastic bag, and we anchor the boat and climb down. We wade to the beach, but the otter doesn’t move as we approach. There’s blood on the sand around it.
“Holy crivvens,” Luca says. A large gash cuts across the lower part of the otter’s body. Its eyes are alert, but it’s breathing hard.
“What can we do?”
“I’ll call the conservation office and get a vet out here.” Luca crouches down, but the otter doesn’t even attempt to get away. “It’s going to be okay, little one.”
He pulls out his phone, while I go to the boat to get some fresh water and something to put it in. When I get back to the beach, Luca is still answering questions from the vet as he rocks on his heels near the terrified animal. “Aye, the bleeding has mostly stopped, but it definitely needs to be stitched up. Aye, aye, I’m afraid to move it. Should I put anything on it from my first aid kit? Aye. I’ll wait for you, then.” He shoos a fly from the wound as he hangs up.
“Ramsey, one of the local vets, is up on the north part of Lismore, so he’s going to run down. But we’ll be stuck here for a wee bit.”
“That’s okay.” I put the water into a shallow plate and set it by the otter. Then we step back but sit close so the gulls get the message and we can swipe the flies away.
“These aren’t actually sea otter, like you have in the States,” Luca says after a few minutes. “They’re just inland otters, but they’ve moved into the coastal waters over thousands of years. They’re protected now. This area has always been a stronghold for them because the water is so clean. They’ve struggled in the lower UK with pollution and habitat loss.”
“How do you think it got injured?”
“That looks like a propeller gash to me, and from its size, it’s a younger sow or boar. But I guess it could have been a predator. It’s such a clean tear, though.” He shakes his head and squints up at the gulls.
“This is it, isn’t it?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“You said there are things you can’t do because of your family obligations. I didn’t know what you meant, and then I thought you wanted to be touring with some band like Craig’s. But it’s this.”
Luca stares at the otter, his glecks resting on his forehead. “Aye. If I could do anything, it would be what Ramsey does, sailing around these islands and researching them, being a vet. I can’t think of any greater thing to do with your life.”
“So why don’t you?”
Luca shakes his head. “Have you ever seen a duke puddling around saving otters and seals?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever seen any duke at all before your dad.”
Luca laughs. “Fair.”
“What does your dad do, anyway?”
“He manages the investments and everything related to the royalty, the working farm that’s part of the estate, things likethat.”
“Which is why you’re a business major instead of a biology major?”
Luca nods.
“Well, I’ve never seen a duke who was a wildlife vet, but I have seen a prince who was a combat pilot marry an American actress.”
Luca gazes over the water. “It’s not that simple, Story. It costs a lot of money to live this lifestyle. I couldn’t do it on a vet’s salary.”
“Well, you could still manage the investments and the farm, you’d just need to delegate some of it. And maybe you couldn’t be a full-time vet, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t do it at all. In some ways, the privilege binding you also gives you more choices.”
Luca leans forward and chases another fly from the otter’s wound. “You’re an optimist, you know that?”
“I don’t believe your love for your family has to mean you sacrifice who you are for them, or for tradition. The world changes, whether we try to keep it the same or not. I get that you need to embrace your family’s heritage, and you should, but it can’t be some box you get put into that can only look the way it’s always looked. Besides, hasn’t all this bad-boy image stuff been your little rebellion all along?”
Luca opens his mouth, ready to disagree with me, but then his face relaxes.
“Luca, you light up when you talk about your science classes, just like you light up over being out here. And maybe, in a way, this would be an even greater service to the traditions you’re trying to honor.”
He gazes at me a moment. “When did you get so wise?”
“I don’t know. In Rome, I guess. Anna Maria says you can’t let anyone keep you from living the life you want.” Of course, her advice is totally worthless when it comes to unrequited love. “It doesn’t work for everything, though.”
He nods but is quiet. The otter seems to have accepted that we don’t want to hurt it. Or maybe it thinks we’re just like the gulls, waiting for it to die. Luca pushes the dish to it, and its little whiskered nose pokes at the edge. I pour more water onto the plate.
A soft breeze comes and goes, scented with wildflowers, as tiny waves roll onto the shore. I need to face things as they are. “Luca, you said last night there was something you wanted to talk to me about?”
He looks at me and pulls his lip in.
“What’s Jasmine mad at me for now? You can tell me.”
His face clouds over. “Well, I mean, she definitely blamesyou.”
“You mean about TMZ finding out Jeremy was in rehab? Why would I tip off the press about that? Unless she thinks I’m trying to sabotage you two, which you know I’m not.” I may not be able to stand the girl, but she’s still the one he wants.
“What do you mean?” He tilts his head at me. “Wait, yesterday when we were at the pub, did you and Andy really think I was there to hook up with her when I said some things you need to do in person? Is that what you thought I was saying?”
“What else would we think?”
“Oh, crivvens, I’m so stupid!” He closes his eyes a moment and breathes. “Story, I didn’t drag you there so I could hook up with her. I would never do that. I broke up with her.”
My mouth drops open, and so many thoughts are running through my mind that it’s like a wild horse stampede. I can’t grasp one before another is racing in front of it.
“Wait, are you serious?”
“Aye, I thought you knew that’s why I had to see her in person?”
I shake my head slowly, trying to take it all in. “Um, no.”
“Oh man, I thought you were both mad at me for bailing before the end of the charade. Andy’s been scowling at me for weeks, ever since I told him what a mistake this all was. But then he said that whatever I did better not hurt you. And I didn’t see any way out that wouldn’t hurt you except to plow through.”
I shake my head. “He’s just been worried I was going to get hurt in all this.” I hesitate, afraid he might pick up on what I really mean. “You know, that maybe I’d get too used to the way you live.”
Luca looks at me, but I can’t hold his gaze.
“You must be ragin’ after everything I’ve put you through to keep this stupid secret.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not. I’m actually relieved.”
“You can be honest with me.”
“I’m glad, seriously. I don’t really think she’s a very nice person.”
Luca scoffs. “That’s an understatement. Everything you said at the overlook, and then some. I was afraid if I broke up with her that she’d come after you. I didn’t want to believe she was like that. But then I started to realize she is, so I convinced myself it wouldn’t be so bad to wait until the fall and then do it. After you were safely out of it.”
“Wait, how long have you wanted to break up with her?”
“I don’t know. Since before Nice probably. But, I mean, I’ve never really taken any relationship seriously.” He shrugs.
“So what made you break up with her now?”
“She did. She got so jealous about you being here. Honestly, I almost stayed with her yesterday, just to protect you. She threatened to divulge the whole thing. But staying would have given her more ammunition later. The other night on the terrace, she was the one I kept texting. She wanted you to keep being my supposed girlfriend, but she wanted to have her PR team orchestrate everything. What you wore, what you said, everything. More people would have known, and who knows what they’d have put you through. From the way she was talking, it was going to be ridiculous. I knew I had to call it before it got any worse. When she said we should meet up in Edinburgh, I figured you and Andy would be expecting it. I mean, you both knew I hadn’t made any attempt to see her since Nice.”
“We didn’t know.” At least I didn’t. Maybe Andy was afraid of getting my hopes up. “Andy says she’s hackit in her soul, but I’m not exactly sure what that means.”
He chuckles. “It means ugly, like an old crone. As usual, he’s on the money. I just thought he was mad at me for all of it. It got so complicated. I didn’t know how to protect you and get free. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s okay.” I am happy he’s free of her, but just because Luca’s broken up with his hackit-souled diva, it doesn’t mean he wants to be with me. I swallow. “I mean, I get her blaming me. You and I have spent a lot of time together, all of it looking like the perfect couple.”
And feeling like it, too. At least for me.
“Aye. We’ve looked like the perfect couple, and this is the hard part, Story. I’ve been screwing up my courage to say this to you.”
My breath catches. No wonder he’s been putting off breaking up with her. He’s afraid I’ll expect something from him if he’s not with Jasmine. He knows I’ve fallen for him. If I thought his charity kiss was mortifying, this is a thousand times worse. “You kept your end of the bargain,” I say. “You’ve definitely treated me like a princess. I don’t expect anythingelse.”
Luca throws up his hands, his palms on his head like it might explode. “No, I’ve been such a jerk to you! And I know that everything I’m about to say is going to fit right into your whole perception of me as a spoiled brat who thinks he’s entitled to anything he wants.”
“I don’t think you’ve been a jerk to me.”
“But you do think I’m entitled. And I deserve that. But, Story, I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Every time I picture my future, you’re there. All the places I want to go with you, all the things I want to do with you. I know I don’t have any right to ask you to care about me, and if you want to just be friends, I’ll take that, because honestly, you deserve someone a lot better than me, like Andy, or that Jack kid—that guy is a ridiculously good guy. But if you’ll give me even a little chance, I swear I’ll make it up to you.”
I wrap my arms across my stomach and try to believe I’m not dreaming this.
Luca raises his eyebrows. “Could you say something, please? ’Cause I’m having trouble breathing here.” His eyes are glistening.
“How long have you felt this way?”
“I don’t even know. Probably that first night, when you nerded out over Rome.” He laughs in a choking kind of way. “You were so different from anyone I’ve ever met. And then at Ponza, when we almost called it, I didn’t want to stop spending time with you. So I doubled down, telling myself it was all for Jasmine. But it was you I looked forward to seeing. You were the one I thought about when I went to sleep. That day on the Vespa, I was gone. The only thing that kept me in this charade was protecting you. And being with you. I didn’t want it to end. And at the overlook, when you started talking about how this was almost over, all I could think about was what a mess I’d made of everything and how there was no way you’d ever forgive me. Especially if I let this blow up. Story, I’ve never begged a girl for a chance before. But you came sweeping into my life—”
“I did not come sweeping into your life, you grabbed me and dragged me into it!” The words are combative, but I’m smiling now.
Luca breaks into a grin. “That’s fair, but after I grabbed you and dragged you into my life, you upended it like the bloody Titanic.”
“I think you mean like the iceberg that struck the Titanic.” I’m trying to stay calm, but my eyes are wet.
He slips his hands around my waist. “And that sounds so bad, but, honestly, instead of sinking me, you make everything right.” He leans his forehead against mine. “I haven’t had a steak in three weeks. I’m worried about conflict diamonds and whether the Aston Martin is electrified. I know how to brush a cow and fix a fence. And I wake up every morning, and the only reason I’m checking the tabs is to make sure they haven’t said something mean about you.”
I shake my head, still not able to believe this. “I’m not sure another marquess would consider these good things.”
He slips a strand of my hair off my cheek. “I’m thinking about how I could go to vet school and still get a business degree. And I’ve never felt so purposeful in my whole life.”
I just look at him. It’s as if all the moments we’ve spent together, all the little things that have made me love him, are suddenly reflected in the blue-gray of his eyes.
“Story, if you give me the chance, I promise I won’t mess up again. I’ve never felt anything like I feel for you.”
A tear rolls down my cheek. I don’t know how to tell him how much I feel for him, or how miserable I’ve been thinking he wanted to be with someone else. Or how I can’t imagine my life without him, either. So I kiss him instead. And this time when he kisses me, it’s not even remotely like a charity kiss.