Chapter 19
NINETEEN
ANABELLE
I need this iced latte like my life depends on it.
Sales are down again, and Nolan has been complaining about not being able to see Lucas as much.
And to be honest, my life has gotten so dull and empty without Lucas arguing with me over random stupidity.
I lived for that grumpy banter, and now it’s clear that I can’t live without his one-word answers and grunts.
And the thought that I’ll never kiss him again creates an ache that throbs in my chest.
I take a long sip of my drink and push open the door of Josie’s to exit. Right outside the shop, Aubrey’s mom is headed down the sidewalk toward me.
“You poor thing,” she says to me. “You look like you’ve been through so much. You must be worried sick about him.”
My stomach turns over, and my chest tightens. “Who am I supposed to be worried about?” Is Nolan hurt?
She waves an arm at me like I’m being difficult. “Lucas, of course. With that big injury of his.”
I furrow my brow and relax my shoulders. “That’s not new.” But something isn’t adding up.
“No, dear. He was injured at his big game yesterday. He didn’t tell you?”
I shake my head. “No, he didn’t. We aren’t exactly on good terms right now.”
“I’m so sorry.” Mrs. Wheaton pulls me in for a hug.
I stand there, rigid for a minute, but then I melt into her. I guess I needed this.
She pats me on the back. “He may not be able to play soccer anymore after this, but at least he has you.”
I pull back and look at her. “What happened?”
“I don’t know all the details, but it’s all over the news right now. I read it in the town newspaper. I know it was really bad. Something with his knee.”
“That doesn’t sound good. Do you know if he’s home?”
She shakes her head. “You could try calling his brother.”
“Of course. Jace would know.” I pull my phone from my purse.
“I’ll leave you to it. I have a coffee to get.” She waves at me and heads into Josie’s as I search for Jace in my contacts.
“Bye,” I say over my shoulder.
I rush into the hospital. Jace said he was just getting out of surgery, and I could come join the family and friends in the waiting room.
When I get there, the room is full of guys from the team. They’re crowding around the bed so much I can’t see Lucas.
One of them steps to the side, leaving a gap that reveals Lucas’s face. Our gazes meet, and his face is an unreadable mask.
The guys turn to follow his gaze, and one of them grins. “Your woman is here, Hensley.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
My heart thumps, and I wring my hands.
“We should give them a moment,” Jace says, and the guys shuffle out of the room, making awkward catcalls and whistling.
Lucas smiles thinly at them before turning his attention to me. “I’m a little loopy.”
“It’s okay. I won’t hold anything you say against you. At least not too much,” I tease.
“It’s not like I wouldn’t deserve it.” He turns his head away from me.
“I’ve been really worried about you,” I whisper.
He turns back to me, and his eyes are watery. “Is that so?” he asks in a gravelly voice.
I take his hand. I don’t care about Jeremy anymore.
He can threaten all he wants. I’ll take his sorry rear to court.
He won’t get Nolan just because I want to find some happiness.
He’s probably dated plenty since he’s left.
Discovering Lucas was hurt changed something inside me.
I’ve let Jeremy control me for years, and I’ll not stand for it anymore.
Luckily, Lucas will be okay, but what if it had been life-threatening, like a car accident?
You never know how long you have someone.
And I’m wasting time, letting the ghosts of my past control my future.
Our gazes meet, and he squeezes my hand.
“I need to tell you something.” He coughs. “I’ve been?—”
The door opens, and a nurse walks in, clipboard in hand. "Hi, Lucas. Just stopping by to check your vitals and see how your pain levels are doing."
Lucas nods slightly. "It's manageable."
She smiles reassuringly, jotting notes. "That's good to hear. If everything stays stable overnight, Dr. Marshall said we can discharge you tomorrow morning after physical therapy sees how you're handling crutches.”
I let go of his hand. “I should probably go. I know you have a lot going on.” But my heart aches with the loss of his touch. With the loss of him and all he’s going through right now.
He nods, his face rearranged back into the mask he had on earlier.
So much is unsaid between us, and I’m not sure it’s something I’m ready to fix.
A week has passed since my visit to the hospital, and Lucas has been constantly on my mind. Thursday, I pick up a pizza and take it to his place. Jace told me this morning he’d been home a few days and might need some cheering up.
Honestly, the guy is probably trying to set us up like usual. But I’m not sure where Lucas stands—or sits, in his case—about us. Especially since his injury might mean he’s lost his career. Would he consider sticking around town now? I have no idea. He’s not exactly the most talkative guy.
I knock on the door, and after a prolonged moment, Lucas shows up with a pair of crutches.
“Hey.” He eyes the pizza.
“I hope you’re hungry.” I lift the box.
He ticks his head toward the inside of his house. “Come on in.”
I awkwardly follow him in silence as he leads me to the kitchen, and I put the food on the table.
“Thank you.” He nods to the pizza. “I’m a little sick of ramen.”
I laugh. “Jace did mention you needed a visit.”
“That sounds like him.” He stares at the pizza box and grimaces.
“Everything okay?”
“Not to be weird or anything, but do you think you could carry that to my bedroom? I need to get my leg up, and I have my ice packs and my laptop in there.”
“Doing some gaming?” I ask, carrying the pizza as we head down the hall.
He smiles wryly. “How’d you know?”
“Because you’re sick. It’s not like you’d be filing taxes in your state.”
“Thankfully, I did that last month.” He shudders. “No, I’m playing some World of Warcraft. The Night Elf hunter is apparently the way to go.”
I laugh. “Jeremy used to play that game. You’ll have to tell Nolan. He’s even played it some, although he’s too young to play it unsupervised now that he reads better.”
I stop by his dresser, and he climbs into bed, setting his crutches against his bedside table.
A square of familiar brown fabric is carefully folded on top of his dresser. I pick it up. “Lucas . . . is this my shirt?”
He smiles. “The one you used as a rag to wipe coffee off of me? Yes.”
“You kept it,” I say softly. I unfold it, and it still has coffee stains on it, despite the fact that it’s already brown.
He nods, sheepish but sincere. “Couldn’t throw it away. It reminded me of you, and I figured you wouldn’t want it back with all those stains on it.”
“When we were in the hospital, you were trying to tell me something before we got interrupted by the nurse. What were you going to say?” I ask.
He shifts on the bed and puts an ice pack over his knee.
“I’ve had a lot of time alone to ponder life lately, and it’s brought some things into focus for me.
I could recover, return to Arsenal, and chase that life again.
But lying there, thinking of you and Nolan, I knew exactly where my heart is—and it’s not in Atlanta. It’s here, injury or not.”
My breath catches, and my heart speeds up in my chest. This isn’t his vulnerability talking, is it? Or maybe it’s the painkillers. Will he still feel this way after he’s healed?
“Promise me you’ll think about it. No pressure—just promise.”
I nod. “I’ve been doing some thinking of my own, to be honest.” I step closer to him.
He pats the bed, and I sit next to him, my legs draped over the side, as the scent of woodsy soap hits my senses. This isn’t exactly the way I pictured being in his bed for the first time, his injured knee propped up with pillows and covered in an ice pack, but it’s unexpectedly okay.
“I’m going to tell Jeremy he doesn’t get to dictate who I’m allowed to date.
Maybe he’ll take me to court, but knowing him, he’ll back out.
He won’t even take Nolan for a visitation after moving across the country.
What judge would give him custody? There’s no rule that we can’t date after divorce. People do it all the time.”
He puts his hand over mine and squeezes it. “So, what does this mean for us?”
I laugh and lace my fingers through his. Vulnerable or not, I need to say it. Push all my fears to the side. “It means I’m in love with you, and I’m not letting anyone stop me from being with you now that I know you feel this way, too.”
His eyes melt into two pools of warmth. “I love you, too, Anabelle. With all my heart.”
The bell over the door at my boutique rings, and Lucas hobbles through the door with his crutches, wearing a backpack. I rush over to him. “Let me help you with that door.”
“I got it,” he says. “You forget. I’m an old pro at these crutches.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry for him and his crushed dream of playing pro soccer.
But he says he’s chosen a life in Maple Creek.
We’ll see how serious he is about that. My heart is still learning to trust, but every day, I open it a little more to Lucas.
It’s been two weeks since his injury, and he’s still in a lot of pain, but we’ve shared a lot more kisses and some snuggles, too, since then.
Proof that some of the deepest joy can come out of the worst pain.
And the worst pain for me was the thought of losing Lucas for good to Atlanta.
“It’s a good thing the air conditioning works in this place because it’s sweltering out there,” Lucas says. He removes his backpack and sets it on a nearby dresser I have for sale.
“It’s almost like summer will be here soon or something,” I joke. Nolan has been going on all the end of the year field trips, and I’ve gone on a couple of them to get my mind off the pain Lucas is in. I’ve been so worried about him, but he’s been getting stronger every day.
At first, I doubted he really meant his devotion to us and Maple Creek, like it was the painkillers talking, but after two weeks, he’s backed off of the strong ones and he’s stuck to his word.
If anything, he seems more determined to settle down here.
Although the kissing was pretty great while he was on those meds. I’m not going to lie.
He pulls a folder out of his backpack and opens it. “I have a business proposal to make.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask.
He pulls out a sheet of paper and hands it to me.
“A business plan?” I question after glancing over the title.
“I would like to invest in your boutique, help expand it.”
I lift my gaze from the paper after reading farther down the page. “You want to move the shop to the antique mall?”
“To be clear, the shop will stay fully yours. I will only be the investor. I’ve talked to my grandmother and Hazel, and they both think the plan will work.
Hazel said she’d personally come to help you merchandise.
She already acts like she runs the family boutiques, so she might as well start one here.
Soccer gave me purpose, but you and Nolan gave me something better—a reason to come home.
Wherever you are, that’s where I belong. ”
My walls go up immediately. “Lucas, I want this. I want you. But how can I know you won’t regret this choice?”
“Because I’ve never felt more sure of anything. This isn’t about the injury—it’s about realizing I already had everything I wanted. You, Nolan, our life here. I want to build this with you. No second guesses.”
My heart slows, and my shoulders relax as tears form in my eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”
He steps forward with a limp and gently cups my cheek. “I’m right here. For good.”
I gaze into his eyes as he closes the space between us, pressing his lips to mine.
I thread my hands through his dark hair as I lose myself in his kiss, drawing even closer to him.
I can’t get close enough. I drag a hand down his chest, and his heart races beneath my palm.
I always want his heart to beat for me—and for Nolan.
Speaking of?—
The door bursts open. “Can we get pizza? Oh . . . are you guys kissing again?”
Lucas laughs, pulling us both into a playful hug, dragging his knuckles across Nolan’s head.
Nolan runs off to pull out his phone and settle at my desk, and Lucas pulls me close. “So, does this mean I finally earned the right to keep your shirt?”
I laugh against him, joy spreading in my chest. “I mean, if you want it.” I wrinkle my nose, teasing him. “It has seen better days.”
“And so will you.” He kisses my forehead. “I plan to make sure of it.”