Chapter 17
Genevieve
Collapsing against the door, I let out a contented sigh, pressing a hand to my mouth where Luke's eyes left a trail of heat. Oh, what might’ve happened had a mischievous husky not so inconveniently interrupted.
“How was the date?”
Jumping at Kit’s voice, I snap, “It wasn’t a date.”
“Sure, it wasn’t. Did he kiss you?”
“Kittt!” I push myself from the door and walk into the kitchen, where my sister has two cups set out on the table and a teapot on the stove. “I told you—”
“It was a date,” Beau yells from the other room, before coming in and leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. “And answer your sister. Inquiring minds want to know.”
Color floods my face like it always does when I'm cornered. Sometimes I hate my sister and her husband. Especially right now.
“You did!” they say together, before looking at each other and yelling, “Jinx.”
“You two are ridiculous.” I roll my eyes.
The kettle whistles, and Kit moves to the table, pouring hot water into each of our mugs. Lavender fills the air. “I told you, Katy Blake was exaggerating. The windows didn’t fog up.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Beau teases. “So why wasn’t there a good night kiss?”
“Someone let a dog out of the house.”
“You let the dog out?” Beau walks up behind Kit and wraps his arms around her waist before planting a kiss on her neck. “Being a vet and all, aren’t you supposed to know to be extra careful when it comes to dogs and doors?”
“He didn’t try to bolt out at all tonight! You saw him. He waited like a perfect gentleman.” Kit tries to pull out of Beau’s embrace, but she’s not going anywhere if he doesn’t want her to. “I was just trying to find out why he started whining.”
Beau nuzzles Kit’s neck, making my sister giggle as she starts to try to escape earnestly.
“He’s attached to his paw-rent.” My lips twitch at one of the many terms Fur–Ever Homes used. It was cute…for the first hour.
“From the way he bolted out the door, I gathered that,” Kit says, just as Beau’s head snaps up, brow furrowed, and he utters, “paw-rent?”
“Yeah, the rescue has a ton of terms: Paw-rent, Fur-mily, Paw-some. And so many others I lost track.”
“You should hear what they say on the forum! It’s like learning a whole new language.”
“One that I have no interest in understanding,” Beau snickers, then spins his wife in his arms, giving her a slow kiss.
Wrapping my hands around my cup of tea, I focus on the rising steam, waiting for them to come up for air.
“I’m going to head to bed and let the two of you chat. Night, Gen.”
“Night.”
Kit watches her husband walk away, and I shake my head. Their relationship may have been quick and unplanned, but they’re perfect together. And sickly adorable with how in love they are.
“If you don’t sit down soon, your tea is going to be cold.”
“So.” Kit turns and pulls out the chair across from me. Picking up her mug she blows on it before taking a sip. “Tell how the night went? I want every detail.”
“It was good—”
“No.” Kit holds a finger up. “That’s generic. I know it was good. I saw how the two of you looked at each other when I let Bogey in the backseat.”
“Fiiine! It was amazing.”
Starting from the beginning, I tell Kit everything. About Luke’s anxiety and why he got Bogey, mentioning how his agent told me he suggested a cat, but Luke got a dog.
“I told you!” Kit grins. “It was him on the forum.”
“Maybe.” My sister’s eyes widen as she stares at me. I lift my mug to my mouth and sip, delaying having to admit she’s right. “Okay, it was probably him.”
“Probably? Ha!” She scoffs smugly.
Ignoring her, I continue recounting the events of the evening. “It was…” I blow out a heavy sigh. “Perfect.”
“Then why do you seem so unhappy?”
“Because I’m afraid.”
Kit reaches over and grabs my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Afraid of what?”
Fiddling with the handle of my mug, I don’t look up at my sister. “Of falling for him again.”
“There aren’t any guarantees, Gen. Life is like a box of—”
“Don’t you even try to Forrest Gump me!”
“Shrimp’s the fruit of the Sea!”
Pulling my hand from Kit’s, I reach over and slap it. “You can’t use Bubba either!”
Kit cackles. “But they’re such good lines!”
Glaring at her she raises her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. But seriously, life is uncertain and filled with surprises. I mean, look at Beau and me.” She shrugs, a lovesick grin on her face. “Sometimes life just throws you chances. It’s up to you if you want to take them.”
Exhaling slowly, I try to process her advice, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth and chewing on it. “But what if I fall for—”
“What if?” Kit’s brow quirks. “I think you already have.”
When I started working with Luke, I dreaded every moment I had to spend with him, but after he smiled at me with that goofy grin and gave me a thumbs-up, I started waking up excited to see him later. And now…Now I miss him when I don’t see him for twenty-four hours.
Resting my forehead on my hand, I groan.
“Maybe it’s time for the two of you to have a little chat?”
Lifting my shoulders in response because I know she’s right, but just the thought has my stomach in all kinds of knots.
Kit laughs, grabbing my hand again, then leans in and says, “That’s all I have to say about that.”
“That’s it. I’m going home.” Rolling my eyes, I laugh despite myself. Hand on the doorknob, I mutter, “Tell Beau I said you’re not allowed to watch that movie anymore.”
“He’s the one who makes me watch it!” Kit cackles.
“It’s true,” Beau yells from upstairs. “I love that movie.”
Shaking my head, I open the door. “You’re a bad influence on my little sister, Beau Matthews!”
I hear him snort, then mutter, “You have no idea.”
“Ignore him!” Kit wraps me up in a tight hug, her body vibrating with laughter. The tightness in my sternum eases.
“I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I think maybe it's both. Maybe both are happening at the same time.”
“Kit!” I roll my eyes.
“Sorry,” She shrugs, her mouth twitching. “It fits.”
“What if he says no?”
“It’s possible.” Kit pulls back but keeps her hands on my upper arms. “But he’s working really hard to have you around for someone who isn’t interested.”
Nodding, I push the storm door open and step out. Kit puts her hand on the door, holding it. “Thanks, Kit. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now go home and get some rest.” Walking down the stairs she yells. “And I better be the first phone call you make after he kisses you!”
A grin spreads across my face, and I give her a thumbs up before sliding into my car and driving away.
A tiny shiver moves through me. Luke’s eyes were soft, wanting before we were rudely interrupted.
Not sleeping well this week. If at all. Thanks, Luke.
Sitting in front of the television, a commercial’s playing while I gnaw on one of my fingernails, waiting for the Wyndham Championship to come back on. Luke is up next. He’s at the fifteenth hole, and if he gets this one, the win is all but his.
When his image pops up on the screen, my breath catches, and I’m pretty certain I’m more nervous sitting at home than Luke is on the green at the moment. I watch as he gets set up and takes a 3-wood club from his caddie.
That's what the 'Grim Reaper' would grab for a two hundred and thirty-five yard shot.
Taking a deep breath, then slowly exhaling, I look at ‘Golf’s Grim Reaper’ in all his glory, and recognize that J.B. is right. Luke is playing better than he has in years. His shoulders are relaxed, he hasn’t touched his hat once, and not to mention, he’s leaving all of his competitors in the dust.
It’s a thing of beauty.
My breath catches when he swings, easily connecting the club with the ball. The camera pans out, showing the golf ball’s trajectory, and the announcer praises the accuracy of Luke’s shot. When it lands on the green, fifteen feet from the pin, an excited squeal bubbles up.
“Luke Nichols just set himself up for an easy eagle and the tournament win,” the play-by-play announcer says. “This man is much different from the one we saw earlier in the season, but reminiscent of the young professional.”
“You can say that again,” the other commentator agrees. “He’s been smirking the entire tournament. We may need to come up with a new nickname.”
“After how he’s been playing? Nope. ‘Golf’s Grim Reaper’ fits despite the grinning. Nichols has ice in his veins.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m still wearing a goofy grin. You’d think I was the one who just dominated the field instead of Luke.
When my phone buzzes, it sends my pulse racing. Without looking, I answer my stomach dips at the sound of Kit’s voice.
“Were you watching?”
“Were you watching?” I chuckle, surprised that my not-interested-in-sports sister is calling to talk about a golf tournament.
“That’s funny,” she scoffs, birds chirping in the background. “I was at Bean Me Up when someone popped their head in the door announcing Luke’s win.”
Small towns, I shake my head. “Ahhh, coffee with a golf update makes more sense than you watching.”
“Have you talked to him yet?”
Her question triggers a sudden pull in my chest. Though Luke and I have been texting almost daily, I haven’t heard from him after today’s win, and I didn’t realize how much I wanted him to reach out.
Then again, the majority of our conversations have been Bogey updates and snapshots from the cameras at Camp Bark Star, so it’s no surprise that he hasn’t. It’s not dog-related.
“No.” I push off the couch and head to the kitchen, grabbing a raspberry seltzer from the fridge. “We chatted yesterday and talked about what time we were meeting up tomorrow. There’s no need for him to contact me.”
Though I’m trying to act nonchalant, the truth is I want to be the one he makes right after a win. I want to celebrate with him.
“But you want him to,” she teases.
“Yeah, I do.” I pace back and forth through my living room, nervously straightening up random piles that are already neat. “The last week has been awful, Kit. My stomach has been in one big knot.”
“Once you talk to him, you’ll feel better.”
“Hopefully.” I scrub the back of my neck, tension making it stiff.
“You only have twenty-four hours to go. Why don’t you do something to help yourself relax, like go for a run?” A car door closes, and I hear Kit’s engine roar to life. “Obsessing about it isn’t going to fix anything.”
“Sounds like something I’d say to you.” My sister knows me too well. “It’s annoying.”
“It is, right?” Kit chuckles.
“Very.” The corner of my mouth lifts. “A run sounds like just what the doctor ordered. Get it?”
“Veterinarian. Doctor.” I can all but hear her rolling her eyes through the phone. “I got it.”
“Thanks, Kit. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Gen?”
“Yeah?” Opening the dresser drawer, I pull out a pair of running shorts and a tank top.
“When you talk to Luke try to keep your corny sense of humor to yourself. You don’t want to run him off.”
“Oh, I see what you did there,” I say, pulling my hair back into a ponytail. “Looks like the nut doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Yeah, Yeah. Have fun running!”
Changing into my workout clothes, I head to the treadmill that’s been collecting dust for the last few months.
Stepping on the tread and turning the machine on, I’m only vaguely aware of my bare feet. My stomach is in knots, and my pulse is hammering, but I'm too distracted to care that running barefoot is probably a stupid idea.