Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lace realized she’d laughed more than she had in ages with Vince and his brothers, but as they drove away from the Bear’s Claw, she wished that they didn’t have to do any more visiting.
Not that she didn’t love Ellen Sothard. But now that Lace’s courage was up, having more or less told Vince earlier that they were having sex when they arrived home, she wanted to get to it.
She already knew that being in bed with Vince would be epic—a no brainer from the way he kissed—but she was also riding a high right now over her own boldness at stating her desires; a daring so unlike her, that she didn’t want time for her manufactured courage to crash and burn.
Unfortunately, she could already feel doubts creeping in.
Like…
How would Vince react to her skinnier than normal body?
Sure, she still had an ass—that being the appendage to which Vince had admitted having the most interest—but her hips had flattened out, her legs and arms had lost some muscle tone, and her boobs…
Well, that was where most of her worry lay.
The girls were still high and firm. Ish. But after all the poking and prodding, as well as the diagnostic slicing and dicing they’d undergone, Lace wondered if she’d feel sexy having them handled. Or sucked.
Sure, it would be a completely different kind of touch—and no doctor had orally examined her nipples, she giggled to herself—but over the past few months she’d pretty much disconnected her brain from her front end in order to mitigate any future shock that might come from not having a breast or breasts.
And then, there was her port.
Very attractive.
With its lumpiness, lines, and tape, even when not in use, it was kind of the focal point of her chest, and it screamed “cancer” to her.
She wondered how Vince would see it?
Probably with all the aplomb he’d shown so far with everything else she’d hit him with about her cancer trajectory.
He really was an extraordinary man.
Lace just prayed that he wouldn’t get tired of all her medical shit and bail on her once she let her emotional barriers down and finally admitted to loving him.
Maybe she should just go for it and say the words now instead of being chicken-shit. Because if Vince left her before she said it, she might never again have the chance to utter those words to any man.
Stop whining, she chastised herself, but it was a losing battle.
That’s how unsure of herself she’d become.
And didn’t that suck.
Lace had always been strong and independent. Even after her grandparents had died and she’d had to pick up her emotional pieces, she’d still managed to keep that tough side of her persona intact; determined to move forward, no matter how painful.
Lace didn’t think it would be the same if Vince headed for the hills.
The man was everything she’d ever dreamed of.
Smart, handsome, engaging. Even the goofy side of him appealed.
Or maybe she especially enjoyed the dumb-ass things he said.
She’d always admired how her grandfather had made Gram and her laugh over the silliest of things; throwing out the most ridiculous of “dad jokes” for their amusement.
It was like he’d made it part of his job
Lace hadn’t realized how rare that was, until it had been gone.
And now, Vince.
He had the same easy way of cracking her up; of seeing beyond the mundane in the world to make everything sparkle a little brighter.
Hell. He even had Lace buying into his hearts and flowers vision of things. She’d actually been tolerating Captain Nincompoop more than normal over the past few days.
That might be because the gruff man was ignoring her more than usual, but from Lace’s perspective, her attitude toward him had definitely softened.
Not that she was looking forward to working again tomorrow. Having this day off where she wasn’t hooked up had been a breath of fresh air.
If only—
“You’re thinking pretty hard over there,” Vince cut into her thoughts.
Right.
Thinking, but with no colorful fantasies thrown in to amuse.
Didn’t that just suck.
“I was just recalling things about my grandparents,” she told him, half-honestly. She didn’t want to burden him with her self-doubts where he was concerned.
“You want to talk about it?” Vince didn’t push, which was just like him. He simply left room for her to decide whether or not to share.
Should she?
If Vince didn’t know about her grandparents’ deaths already, it was because he hadn’t pressed his mother on the subject. Ellen Sothard was fully aware of how they’d died.
Lace gave an inward sigh.
Before they got to the Sothard homestead and something slipped out, Lace figured it was time to fill Vince in.
She didn’t often talk about her grandparents’ passing because it was so painful. But if Lace hoped for Vince to remain in her life, even if it was only for the short term, he deserved to hear it.
“They were killed in their ice shack,” she spit out bitterly.
“What?”
That one word had been sharply barked, because, yeah, what she’d told Vince was not the type of accident that happened every day.
He clenched his jaw. “They went through the ice?”
It was a good guess, but incorrect.
Lace imagined that most ice deaths came from breaking through and going under to succumb to the frigid waters.
That’s not what had happened to her folks.
“No,” Lace managed. “They were actually out after dark one night, having a bit of fun cooking supper over a camp burner in their shack. They were so excited that they were going to toast s’mores.” She remembered how they’d looked, giggling like children, anticipating their indulgent adventure.
“They were extremely familiar with the lake and its unforgiving foibles, so they weren’t worried to be heading out after dusk. They never would have attempted it if the ice had been unsafe.”
Now Vince looked confused.
“What then?” he asked, his brows drawn together.
“There were…” Lace sucked in a fortifying breath and started again.
“Two kids in a truck decided to go out and cause a bit of mischief that night,” she managed. “They were drinking. Their judgement was impaired, and they thought it would be a lark to take their vehicle out onto the ice and run down a bunch of fishing huts.”
“Oh, no,” Vince moaned, reaching over to pick up her hand. “I get the picture, Lace. You don’t have to go any further.”
“Yeah. You can imagine what happened,” she agreed, a tear poised to leak from one eye. “The only blessing is that the coroner said they died instantly. They didn’t know what hit them, and were probably having a giddy time right before…it was all over.”
“The kids?” Vince asked softly. “What happened to them?”
“Convicted of involuntary manslaughter, which in Maine is still considered a Class A felony. They got twenty years.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “They were good kids. No prior convictions. Just a bad decision. I’ve…forgiven them.” She choked up.
It had taken a long time and a lot of introspection, but Lace eventually understood that kids made bad choices when their brains weren’t fully developed. So, she’d taken the high road.
“It’s been nine years since it happened,” she told Vince. “The boys are in their mid-twenties now, and have been exemplary inmates.”
“You’ve kept up with what’s been happening to them? Inside?” Vince asked, almost incredulously.
“I have,” she acknowledged. “I came to realize that theirs was as big a tragedy as my grandparents’ deaths. And I’ve…visited them. On more than one occasion.”
The first couple times it had almost been too painful, but Lace had continued seeing them, and had actually ended up liking them both.
“They’ll be up for their first parole hearing next year,” she continued quietly. “I’m going to be there and advocate for their release.”
Vince let out a hiss of air. “Christ, Lace. That’s more than I could do. If someone killed my parents…” He left that thought hanging.
“I know,” Lace responded. “But I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I believe they’ve paid for it enough, and it’s the right thing to do.”
They pulled into the Sothard driveway, parking in front of the huge front porch.
“You’re amazing,” Vince said.
He turned off the vehicle, leaned over the console, and kissed her, gently.
The tear that had been lingering, dropped, but Lace didn’t feel quite as sad anymore.
Sharing her memories with Vince had lifted a weight from her that she hadn’t known she’d been shouldering. Having someone close who validated her feelings and actions without judgement was a blessing she hadn’t seen coming.
The front door opened, truncating the quiet moment, and Vince drew away from her.
“You ready?” he asked tenderly. “If you’re not, I can make excuses and we can come back another time.”
“No,” she answered decisively dashing away her tears with the back of her hand. “I need one of Ellen Sothard’s epic hugs. I remember them from years back.”
Unbuckling her seatbelt, her anticipation ramped up as she opened her door.
Seeing Ellen’s dear face, Lace felt…lighter than she had in a long time.
“Lace Heiger.” Ellen’s strident voice called down from the porch. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“Ellen,” Lace greeted excitedly as she slid from the cab before Vince could come around and help her out.
The two women flew at each other, and hugged it out like nine years had barely passed.
“You look fantastic,” Ellen told her when they pulled back and held each other at arms’ length, mutually examining each other for differences that time had wrought.
Lace snorted. “I’m not sure about that. But you haven’t changed one bit since I saw you last,” she offered up exuberantly.
“Oh, child. You flatter.” Ellen fluffed it off, but by the color in her cheeks, Lace could tell she was pleased.
“And who do we have here?” Vince asked, joining the woman but facing the door where two people stood watching with twin smiles on their faces.
“Oh,” Ellen cried. “I almost forgot to make introductions in my joy at seeing Lace again. Vince, Lace, this is Obadiah and Zita Engle.”