Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Luke was too hot in his champagne-colored tux. And he still wasn’t sure why Hawk had made all the men in his family wear one when none of them were in the wedding party. But maybe those were some of the sacrifices that a man made for his family.
Like the one Damian had made that had almost gotten him killed and might still leave him maimed.
The sun slanted low over the Shenandoah ridgeline, gilding the meadow behind Caleb Mosby’s Victorian mansion on the hill at the top of Main Street.
The wedding was supposed to have been in the chapel, but by noon Clara—their intrepid wedding planner—realized that Hawk had way too many friends from Ravensburg, Middleburg, Milltown, Aldie, and about ten other small villages coming.
The kinds of friends who wore leather cuts and didn’t RSVP.
So Clara had shifted gears and moved the ceremony to the same place where they were having the reception. If Luke had thought that the women in his family would be fussing over him because he’d been in a gunfight and had helped save the day, he’d quickly discovered he was wrong.
As soon as they finished with the FBI, and all of the interrogations and talking-tos, they’d returned to Kingsmill where Clara had immediately put everyone to work.
Now the day was clothed in soft golden light. Mason jars of wildflowers hung from the aisle chairs, a string quartet played something light and classical, and the wooden altar arch was draped in white linen and summer roses.
Even Ink, the Ravensburg Devil’s Renegades Chaplain, was ready to do his duty and marry Hawk and Izzy. Ink, who wore his black leather cut and held a bible, had not only been released from the hospital in time, the FBI had exonerated the entire Ravensburg MC chapter from that gun running business.
It was all perfect. Except for the knot in Luke’s gut.
He shifted on his feet near the front row, trying not to scowl as Hawk adjusted his tie, which matched his black tuxedo, for the fifth time.
Eve sat on a chair beside him. Holly’s friend had sent Eve a floor-length emerald green chiffon maternity gown that shimmered when she moved.
The dress suited her, and her pregnancy, better than anything he’d ever seen her in.
From the way Eve’s eyes glistened, Luke was sure she felt as beautiful as she looked.
Of course Kane stood nearby, scowling in his broody way, keeping a close watch on his wife.
Luke scanned the rest of the guests and found Holly in the crowd.
She wore a pink strapless dress, courtesy of her friend from Boston, that left her shoulders bare.
She wore her brown hair loose, and curls fell down her back.
Because she too had been dragged into wedding service, she was now working alongside Ivy, Trent’s wife, as a back-up photographer.
With her mouth slightly parted in quiet concentration, Holly—under Ivy’s directions—snapped photos from the side aisle.
She looked up once, caught his eye, and smiled.
And that was the problem. He didn’t know what the hell to do with her.
Not just because she’d gone rogue and gotten herself captured—though that still set his teeth on edge—but because she’d escaped, then patched up the enemy, and somehow still smiled at him like it didn’t matter that she’d put herself in danger.
Yes, she’d done it to save him. But she could’ve been hurt, or even killed.
And he was still processing the fear of the moment when he realized she’d risked everything to save him.
Hawk muttered something to Eve. She didn’t reply, just arched an eyebrow in his direction like she was daring him to pick a fight right here at his own wedding.
Good. Luke wasn’t the only one living in romantic purgatory.
Daphne, Izzy’s Maid of Honor, adjusted Izzy’s train when the bride reached the altar. Izzy beamed at Hawk like none of the past week’s chaos had touched her. Daphne wiped a tear from her cheek, beautiful and composed, and completely unbothered by the fact that Abe couldn’t stop staring at her.
Not unlike how Luke couldn’t take his eyes off Holly.
She’d stopped snapping photos. She stood still now, one hand resting on her camera strap, her gaze locked on the couple. There was something reverent in her face—hopeful, maybe. Or even wistful.
He didn’t want to admit what that did to him.
How it tied his stomach in knots and left an ache in his heart.
Because falling in love in two days? That couldn’t be real.
That was adrenaline and proximity and the rush of saving each other more.
He didn’t know her favorite movie. He didn’t know if she snored, or if she hated mornings, or if she was over the heartbreak of her ex-husband’s affair.
But when she looked at him… he swallowed hard. He couldn’t stay in Kingsmill. Miami was calling. His surf shop, with summer being his best business time of year. His real life. So why did the idea of leaving her feel like gutting something tender?
Ink was talking about love being patient and kind, about weathering storms. Holly took another picture, and when she lowered the camera again, she smiled directly at him.
He looked away.
A few minutes later, when the guests were drifting toward the reception tent and the band was tuning up, Luke headed for the outdoor bar set up near the apple orchard. Abe joined him, holding two glasses of bourbon
Abe handed him one glass. “You all right, my twin?”
Luke took a long pull from his drink. “Yeah. Just hate weddings, you know.”
Abe grunted. “You’re still planning to head back to Miami?”
Luke nodded. “That’s the job. That’s my life now.”
Abe nodded and looked away. “There’s something you should know. Something Uncle Gage told me before the wedding.”
“What’s that?”
“Did you know that Caleb specified in his will that you and I should inherit the old fairgrounds? To start our outfitting business together?”
“What?” Luke finished his drink and clasped his glass in one hand. “How come no one told us?”
“Dad.” Abe shrugged and met Luke’s gaze. Shadows lurked behind Abe’s eyes. “Dad is contesting parts of the will, including the properties Caleb left his other sons and his grandsons. Including the old fairgrounds.”
“Dad is… wait… why would Dad do that if he knew that Caleb left that property to us?” Luke could barely get the words out. It just couldn’t be true.
“Because Dad,” Abe held his empty glass up in a false salute, “is an even bigger ass than Caleb was. The son learned well from the father.”
“What does that mean for us and our plans?” Luke shook his head, surprised at how quickly he’d slipped into the idea of beginning the business he and Abe had talked about since they were children.
“I’m not sure. All I know is that I’m on terminal leave and in a few months, I’ll officially be retired from the Army. By that time, I told Uncle Gage I want this situation with Caleb’s will—specifically with the fairgrounds—settled. Uncle Gage said he’d speak to the lawyers and let us know.”
Luke nodded, too overwhelmed with this new info to say anything. Was he surprised his father was trying to screw him and Abe out of their inheritance? No. Was he disappointed? Hell, yes.
“What about Holly?” Abe asked.
Luke didn’t answer right away. “I don’t even know.
We only just met, but I’ve fallen hard, bro.
I’m scared and that’s a place I rarely go to.
I’m more about the fast rush of the wave and the thrill of jumping out of an airplane.
But settling down for love? I just don’t know if I can trust myself not to ruin her future. ”
“Does that mean you’re going back to Miami? At least until we get Caleb’s will sorted?”
“Yeah.” He nodded for emphasis. “I’m leaving on Tuesday. And I have no idea when I’ll return. I have to be honest, my twin. This town, with shadows of Caleb and the MC and all the sadness and loss—I don’t know if I’ll ever come back.”
“Uh oh.” Abe used his glass to point behind Luke.
When Luke turned, he noticed the shadow lingering near the path that led into the orchard. Holly stood frozen just beyond the threshold, half-hidden by apple blossoms, and her face was blank.
A moment later she dropped the camera and walked away, quickly disappearing among the apple trees.
* * *
Holly reached for the trunk of an apple tree and pressed her other hand against her lower stomach. She felt nauseous and tired and sad, all at the same time.
She leaned her head against the tree and fought back tears. She heard the music, soft and sweet, a string quartet version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love”. Couples were drifting toward the reception tent. Fairy lights shimmered in the dusk, but her heart was anything but light.
She’d only headed for the orchard to take some long distance photographs, not to eavesdrop. But when she heard Luke’s voice, she froze.
I’m leaving on Tuesday.
She made her way back to the tent, but took the long way around, through the orchard. Her heels sank into the soft ground as she walked fast, then faster, until she was behind the catering van where no one could see her.
Of course Luke was going back to Miami. While she was beginning her new life here. Of course she’d been a fool—just like her ass of an ex-husband had said.
Luke had a life in Miami. A real business.
A surf shop that needed his love and attention—along with all the bikini-clad surfing students.
What use would a man like Luke, who loved adventure and adrenaline, have with a bruised little town like Kingsmill.
A town trying to get back on its feet after one too many betrayals of its own. Just like her.
She sniffled and headed toward Mosby House, the huge Victorian mansion that sat on a hill and towered over Main Street. She needed the restroom, and maybe she’d turn in her camera and leave early.
Except she’d dropped her camera somewhere along the way. Great. Now she’d be fired from that wedding job as well.
“Hey.” Luke’s voice came from behind, a little breathless, a little desperate. “Holly—wait.”
She turned, already fighting the tears. “Don’t,” she said, too quietly.
He stopped a few feet away, holding the camera she’d dropped. “Holly, I didn’t mean for you to hear that like—”
“Like what?” she snapped. “Like it’s not true?”
Luke’s face twisted, torn between guilt and frustration. “I meant I am going back to Miami, yes. But it’s not because I’m running from you. Or Kingsmill. I just need time to figure out if this is real.”
She blinked. “You need time?”
“You nearly got yourself killed, Holly. You could’ve died. And then you stitched up a criminal like it was just another Sunday.”
“It was the right call,” she said. “I’m a doctor, and those men needed my help. It’s not like the FBI gave me a hard time about it.”
“I know. And that’s the thing.” His voice cracked. “You’re always doing the right thing. You don’t even think twice. And I’m just trying to catch up.”
She folded her arms. “So you’re saying I scare you.”
“Yes. You scare the hell out of me. I’ve known you for two days, and I’m in love with you. That’s terrifying for me. Isn’t it terrifying for you?”
Her heart thudded until it was hard and aching. “Say that again.”
He stepped closer, his voice rough. “I’m in love with you, Dr. Holly Westfield.
I think I fell for you somewhere between the moment you tried to bribe me with a mystery gift card and the moment I realized you were trying to save my life.
I don’t know how to do this perfectly, but I know I don’t want to do it halfway. ”
She stared at him, everything inside her cracking wide open.
“I’m scared, too,” she whispered. “I’ve never done this.
I’ve never let someone in and trusted it to last. I tried with my first husband, but I failed miserably.
I didn’t even know I could feel anything again until you showed up.
I didn’t know that life could happen without plans, without order, without my permission. ”
Luke reached out until one hand cupped her cheek. “So what do we do now?”
“We start with this,” she said, lifting her chin. “You kiss me, and then we figure the rest out together.”
And he did.
The kiss was soft and reverent, full of apology and promise. She tasted starlight and relief and all the words they hadn’t had time to say.
When they broke apart, she leaned her forehead against his. “You don’t have to stay in Kingsmill, if you don’t want to. But as of Wednesday, I’m officially beginning a new job and moving into an apartment in Milltown that I’ve rented for six months.”
“I want to stay,” he murmured. “I’m going to stay. But I have to go back and sell the business.” He held her face gently between his palms. “When I return, it will be forever. I promise.”
She smiled. “We’re pretty good at long odds. I mean, what were the chances of us meeting at that rental car counter on a holiday weekend?”
His answering smile was a little stunned, a little in love. “It wasn’t long odds, sweetheart. It was fate.”