Epilogue
epilogue
LUCAS
“Dad, stop fidgeting.”
“I’m not fidgeting,” my father said. I’d just rung the doorbell to Charlee’s parents’ house—scratch that, mansion—and thought it prudent we wait even though Charlee would tell us to come right in. The military had taught me a lot about protocol, customs and courtesies—things I frankly hadn’t thought much about before serving.
“You are,” I said, though I had to admit, the guy looked sharp. Crazy what a month sober could do to a person. His color looked better. He’d gained a few pounds. Now if only we could sustain this, Dad might actually have a shot at a life that didn’t include being dragged home from the bar after closing time.
“So sorry to keep you waiting,” Charlee’s mom said, opening the door. “Charlee is still getting ready and honestly, I have no idea where her father is. Come in.” She leaned toward me with a kiss on the cheek that still felt as awkward as the first time she did it.
Charlee’s relationship with her mother was as complicated as any child/parent one. She loved her, of course, but there was a part of Charlee that wished her mother had stuck up for her more. Guided her in decisions that, frankly, I didn’t think Mrs. Donovan was capable of making. Her life was filled with golf outings and charity events. How could she have known what was best for her daughter? It had taken Charlee years to figure it out herself.
But she had.
Managing Taughannock Falls, designing part-time at the studio, and being my good, dirty girl took up most of her time. The latter, hopefully, was Charlee’s favorite role. It was certainly mine.
As my dad chatted with Mrs. Donovan, I only had eyes for the stairs. Charlee would be coming down the winding, grand staircase any second. Then, as if I’d summoned her, she appeared. Dressed in jeans and a cream sweater—she knew I loved that color on her—with tall brown boots and her hair pulled back into a ponytail. One I would dearly love to grab a hold of, but that would have to wait.
It took all of my restraint to give her nothing more than a quick kiss as she sidled up to me. One would think I’d be able to keep my hands off her for at least a few minutes by now, but the intense attraction that had always been there between us had grown, not diminished.
“Hey there,” she said as we made our way into the kitchen.
“Hey there yourself. It’s been”—I looked at my watch—“more than three hours since I saw you last.”
Just as we were about to enter, I pulled her to the side.
“Let them talk a bit,” I said, looking around. No one in sight. Even if there were, I didn’t give a flying fuck. Pulling her to me, I kissed her. Deeply. Promised, without words, more to come. “Do you know how badly I want to grab that ponytail and give it a tug?” I said, knowing by now exactly what Charlee liked.
“Yeah? What would you do with me then?”
She loved dirty talking, and I loved giving her what she wanted. I leaned closer to her ear. “If we were in my bed, I’d have you on all fours in front of me while I held on, fucking you until you came all over my dick.”
“Oh my God, Lucas.”
Her favorite phrase. I stood up straight, giving us some space. Her father would be lurking around here somewhere. “Yes, baby?”
“You’re killing me.”
“Mmm, tell me more.”
“What are the two of you doing over there?”
Like I said.
It wasn’t that Mr. Donovan and I had the best of all relationships, but we were at least on speaking terms, something I’d never imagined possible when I’d left Kitchi Falls ten years ago. The fact that he’d accepted Charlee’s decision not to take the VP job had gone a long way in my forgiving him for having forced his daughter’s hand so many years ago.
Mostly, I just wanted Charlee to be happy. And having the two of us at peace made her happy.
Sticking out my hand, I shook his, giving no indication that I’d just been discussing fucking his daughter from behind two seconds ago.
“Thanks for having us tonight,” I said.
“Our pleasure. How’s your dad doing?”
His struggles were the town’s to know, whether I was dating Charlee or not. Nothing happened in Kitchi Falls without word spreading quickly.
“So far, so good. Still working. Still attending meetings.”
“Lucas goes with him to every one,” Charlee said, as if that should earn me a medal.
“Good for you,” Mr. Donovan said, seemingly sincere. “Listen, before we go in,” he added. “There’s something I need to say that’s probably overdue.”
Oh fuck. And we were doing so well.
“Full send. Lay it on me.”
Charlee’s dad cleared his throat. “Before you left town, I just did what I thought was right for my daughter—”
“Dad, please.”
“For better or worse. She was a kid back then. But now. . .” He looked at Charlee. “She’s a grown woman, and I had no business trying to sway her decisions. I jumped to conclusions about how you left the service. And that was wrong.”
Charlee had told me how he’d made some inquiries.
“I appreciate it,” I said. “And know you were just trying to protect her.”
“For the record, I think it’s really shitty what happened. That you were discharged for doing the right thing.”
Resentment over that would only eat me alive. “Rules are rules. Rank is important, but it isn’t everything. He needed to be stopped, so I stopped him. Plain and simple. But. . .” I shrugged, and repeated, “Rules are rules. And I can respect that.”
“And I respect what you did.”
I didn’t want that to matter to me. But it did.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Hey.” Mr. Donovan was clearly ready to change topics. “How’s your friend doing? Charlee told me about his injury and said the two of you are really close.”
“An understatement,” I said. “He’s doing well. Which reminds me. . .” I turned to Charlee. “Nate just got the package we sent yesterday. Did I tell you?”
“Already? I thought you said it could take up to three months.”
“Excuse me.” Mr. Donovan ducked into the kitchen, and I watched out of the corner of my eye as he and my father shook hands. Damned if that was a sight I never expected to see.
“Usually, it does take that long. I’m surprised it got to him so quickly.”
“Did he like it?”
“He did. And wanted to thank Zoe for her note too.”
“Coming from a military family, I think she gets it better than most. Should we connect them somehow? So he can thank her?”
“Mmm, Nate doesn’t do social media.”
“But you said he can text, right? Maybe give him her number or something.”
“Why don’t you ask her first? See if that’s okay.”
“Will do.”
“Speaking of things that are okay or better than okay actually. . .” I leaned in for one last kiss before we joined the others in the kitchen. Not intending to show her until later, unable to help it, I rolled up my left sleeve and showed her my forearm.
“Lucas,” she exclaimed, running her fingers over the new ink. “Are you serious?”
Prominently displayed on my arm was Charlee’s alternate design of her own tattoo.
“Very serious. It’s a great message and it’s even better that I know the designer personally.”
I could tell she was thrilled. “We’re matchy,” she said, flipping over her wrist.
I laughed. “Matchy. That we are.” I gazed at her and knew what to say. “I love you, baby.” She had a soft spot for that particular nickname.
She was my baby. My girl. My love.
“I love you, too, Lucas Warner,” she added with a cheeky wink, probably wanting me to punish her later. “For life.”
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