Chapter 8
chapter eight
Everything In Its Right Place – Radiohead
JUSTIN
Rain shot down the window of his office in violent torrents, matching his mood so perfectly that Justin almost laughed. He stared at the blueprint spread across his desk, having no idea which project it belonged to. Three weeks back in New York, wandering the streets like a zombie, hoping the urban pulse he loved would clear his head.
But it hadn’t.
What he wanted was a guarantee Lainey wouldn’t break his heart again.
And it wasn’t like him to be afraid of anything.
“To hell with work,” he whispered, reaching into the lowest drawer of his desk. Breaking into his emergency bottle of scotch was just what the doctor ordered. Rain hammered against the glass panes as he sipped, staring into the bleak night.
Reassurances hadn’t been a big part of his life growing up. He and his brothers had focused on survival. Staying out of their father’s way and protecting each other had been the only priority.
Forget hoping for more.
Hoping for love .
Sighing, Justin turned the hair clip resting on the edge of his desk in a slow circle, the metal cool against his skin. He’d found it the morning after, buried beneath the sheets they’d tangled in. A rush of memories hit him—Lainey’s laughter, the gentleness of her touch, the way she nibbled her lower lip when she was trying not to smile.
If he closed his eyes, he could feel her, just within reach.
But because he’d forced the decision between them, she was impossibly far away.
He’d never been able to control his feelings for Lainey—or hell, control her —and that drove him just a little bit crazy. Maybe that was part of the problem.
Justin rubbed his aching eyes. Sleep had been hard to come by since he left Promise. He was tired of games. Tired of waking up next to someone he only wanted to sneak away from.
What he wanted was a partner. A lover. A friend .
Finally making love to Lainey after thirteen years of wondering hadn’t been a quick fuck. He’d had enough of those to know the difference. Watching her slip over the edge, eyes dark with need, body arching into his, hands pulling him closer— that was the kind of sexual intimacy he’d never dared to imagine.
Truthfully, he wasn’t sure he’d ever believed feelings like that existed. What he’d felt for her back in the day, times ten .
Justin pushed aside the blueprint and pulled the manila envelope from beneath the stack of mail his assistant had dropped off an hour ago. Amazingly, he’d lasted sixty agonizing minutes without opening the damn thing, though he’d probably looked at it a hundred times.
His heart thundered as he traced the flowing script.
He’d recognize Lainey’s handwriting anywhere.
In high school, they’d passed notes back and forth throughout senior year, their shy flirtation blooming into an intense summer romance. He still had every single one, tucked inside a box in his storage unit, alongside other cherished mementos—a ticket stub from their first movie date, and the countless sketches he’d drawn of her when she wasn’t looking.
He’d sworn to throw the box away a dozen times, but he never could.
Unable to wait another second, he ripped into the envelope, a photograph and postcard tumbling onto his desk. He snatched up the photo, staring at the hopelessly young couple. God , the way he’d once dressed—like some wannabe rebel headed for a biker convention or, worse, jail.
And Lainey… she’d been radiant, her blond hair cascading past her shoulders, cheeks flushed from the sun and—he remembered with perfect clarity—the kiss he’d stolen moments before his cousin Campbell snapped the shot.
He flipped the picture over, but there was no inscription. Not that he needed one. He remembered everything about that sweltering, ardent summer.
He picked up the postcard and muffled a laugh behind his hand. Where in the hell had she found one of Carnegie Hall emblazoned with Practice Makes Perfect! ?
How he would love to practice with Lainey Prescott, right this minute .
He sank into his chair, his smile dissolving. His gaze drifted to the stormy night as his heart clenched. What are you trying to prove, Just? She didn’t set out to hurt you. You were both kids—stupid kids, just trying to survive broken childhoods. Trust your gut.
It had been telling him the same thing since the moment he first saw her.
Yes . He drained his drink. It had .
* * *
LAINEY
This place needs a lot of love, Lainey thought, dipping her brush into the paint can. Hard work—and the sharp bite of turpentine—had driven out most of the bad memories, along with the lingering scent of decay. In the three weeks since Justin left for New York, she’d worked like a demon on her father’s house, nearly finishing everything she could tackle on her own.
An architect would be invaluable for the next round of renovations, if she could find one willing to take on a fledgling project like hers. The house had once been on the wrong side of the tracks, but now, amazingly, sat in the hip part of town.
But there were no guarantees. And definitely no promises. The only architect she knew, the guy she’d loved since forever, hadn’t called.
So, she’d started building a life in a neighborhood with a small but thriving creative community. With help from the Historical Society, she’d applied for a tax abatement to help cover renovation costs over the next few years. She was also working on her psychologist licensure application for South Carolina. Fontana had a friend with a vacant office on Main Street, and tomorrow, Lainey was scheduled to take a look.
She dabbed at a thin trail of paint snaking down the wall, wondering how she’d make it until next week, when the one-month waiting period she hadn’t exactly agreed to would finally be over.
What if Justin didn’t show? Or worse, what if he did—only to tell her he was moving on without her? She’d avoided True Art. Stepping into a space filled with his paintings—the bold splashes of color born from his mind and soul—was more than she could handle right now.
The only place she’d be weaker was in his bed.
“This house has good bones.”
Lainey spun so fast, paint spattered across her already stained jeans. She pressed her lips together, resisting the urge to throw herself into Justin’s arms as he moved through the room, his gaze sweeping from ceiling to floor. He stopped at the window, trailing a finger along a cracked pane with a touch that sent a warm rush through her.
“It’s going to be a lot of work,” she said at last, relieved her voice sounded steadier than she felt.
“Sure, but it’s fun to restore.” Dark hair brushed the back of his collar as he turned to face her. Sunlight caught the lenses of his aviators, scattering prisms across her. In his black suit and tie, he looked like he’d stepped straight out of a fashion shoot.
She opened her mouth, thoughts scrambling, but all that came out was a shaky breath. A sudden jolt of pleasure shot through her as he stepped closer, his gaze locked on hers—steady, intense. Only the flex of his hands at his sides betrayed his nerves.
“You’re back early,” she whispered.
He smiled, the dimple she’d missed so much flaring to life. “Actually, sweetheart, I’m late.”
Crouching in front of her, he took the brush from her hand and tapped it against the paint can. “Thirteen years late,” he added, sliding his sunglasses to the top of his head so she could see his gorgeous, golden eyes.
She swallowed, tears burning behind her own. “Thirteen years?”
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small silver box. “I bought this for you the week before we were set to leave for college. It seems meager now, but then…” He placed it in her hand with the care he might give a fragile vase.
She wrapped her fingers around it, her gaze never leaving his.
The skin around his mouth crinkled as his smile deepened, then he laughed. “Open it, will you? The suspense is killing me.”
Lainey fumbled with the box, the hinge squeaking. Inside, a heart-shaped locket lay nestled in wrinkled red velvet. Her hand trembled as she lifted it out. The inscription on the back stole her breath—their initials, intertwined, with the word Fate beneath them.
A single tear slid down her cheek as her heart quietly broke.
Justin’s smile dimmed as he reached to cradle her face, his thumb gently brushing away the tear. “No tears, Lain,” he murmured. “ Shhh … I’m here.”
She closed her eyes as he tucked her against his chest, his heartbeat drumming wildly beneath her ear. She breathed him in, wondering how she’d made it this long without him. “I wasted so much time, made so many mistakes. I ruined everything.”
“Lainey, I wasn’t just mad at you. I was mad at myself. I could’ve tried harder to change your mind—or tried at all. I knew you were worried about the distance, afraid you were holding me back. Your family was as much of a mess as mine, so I understood your concerns, even if I didn’t consider them enough.”
He paused, his gaze dropping to her lips, then back to her eyes, searching for the vulnerability only they shared. “You’re right. We were two frightened kids. And one of them, me , had more pride than sense. But maybe we needed this time to figure ourselves out first…before trying to be a couple again.”
“Are you here?” she whispered into the crisp wool of his coat, holding on to someone she couldn’t bear to lose again. “Are you really here?”
“I’m exactly where I belong.” He kissed the tears from her cheeks, then buried his nose in her hair. “You smell like heaven. I don’t know how, but you always have.”
“I have a question. Are we still meeting at the gallery next week?”
Justin drew a lock of her hair between his fingers. “I have an answer. I told myself I’d wait, but then I realized I’d rather be with you than spend another day counting the minutes.”
Lainey pressed her cheek to his chest, her fingers curling into the back of his coat. “I love you, Just. I always have.”
“I know. Every kiss we ever shared told me, Lainey. That’s why I’ve always been angry with myself—for not trying harder to change your mind. I thought you were just another person I loved who turned their back on me. I didn’t give us a chance. I didn’t try to understand what you were going through. I only thought about what I was feeling. Without you.”
“I'm staying,” she murmured, her heartbeat racing as he leaned in to kiss her. “I’m opening a practice here.”
“Ditto.” He captured her mouth with his, his hands drifting to her hips as he tucked her closer. “Architectural restoration. The woman I love said she’d help me figure out my new direction in life. She’s a therapist, so she knows about these things.”
Lainey leaned back just enough to take him in. Color burned high on his cheeks, his breath coming in ragged bursts. His lashes cast shadows across his skin, framing burnished eyes that held her captive. She had never wanted another man the way she wanted him—his thoughts, his needs, his very essence.
“Don’t look so shocked, Lain. You know I love you more than life. Always. Now. Forever. You and I, we’re fate.” Sunlight spilled through the window, casting a soft glow across his face as a playful gleam sparked in his eyes. “Did you ever really doubt it?”
Lainey frowned, a touch of feminine pique stiffening her shoulders. “Well, after we made love, you went back to New?—”
“Alright, alright.” Justin cut her off with a grin, his breath dusting her lips as his hands curled around her hips. “I have an excellent way to convince you.”
And convince her he did—until there was no room left for doubt, no space for anything but the two of them, finally, exactly where they belonged.