Chapter 43 Grace #2
Grace stared at him. "You've watched me at the festival?"
He had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "Maybe."
"For how long?"
"A while."
"Luke."
“It’s been years," he admitted. "I'd tell myself I was just doing a sweep. Making sure everything was secure. But I'd always end up wherever you were."
Something warm unfurled in Grace's chest.
She threw the first ring. It bounced off a bottle and clattered to the ground.
"Tragic," Luke said solemnly.
She threw the second. It landed on a bottle, wobbled, fell off.
"Heartbreaking."
The third ring she threw too hard. It sailed past the bottles entirely.
"Catastrophic."
Grace laughed despite herself. "You're not helping."
"I'm providing commentary." He pulled out his wallet again. "My turn."
He landed all three rings perfectly.
"Show-off," Grace said.
The booth attendant grinned. "Pick a prize, officer."
Luke surveyed the stuffed animals. "The blue elephant."
The kid handed it over. Luke turned and offered it to Grace.
"For you."
Grace took it, the soft fabric worn and slightly faded. "You won me a carnival prize."
"I did."
"That's very... high school."
"I'm making up for lost time." His expression turned serious. "I should've done this years ago."
Grace's throat tightened. She clutched the elephant to her chest. "We can't go backward."
"No," Luke agreed. "But we can go forward."
They walked on.
They were halfway through a shared funnel cake—Luke's idea, Grace's skeptical agreement—when Eli appeared.
"Hey, Gracie."
Grace looked up, powdered sugar on her fingers, to find her brother standing with his hands shoved in his pockets. He looked... uncertain. Which was unusual for Eli.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Grace said. She gestured with the elephant. "Luke won me this."
Eli's mouth twitched. "I can see that." His eyes slid to Luke. The two men studied each other for a long moment.
"Thank you," Eli said finally. "For earlier. For her."
Luke straightened slightly. "You don't need to thank me."
"Yeah, I do." Eli's jaw worked. "And for—everything else. The charges. The help."
Grace looked between them, something settling in her chest. Her brother and her... Luke. Not at odds. Not enemies.
Just two men who both cared about her.
"You're her brother," Luke said simply. "That means you matter."
Eli nodded once, sharp and final. Then he looked at Grace. "You good here? Or do you want me to—"
"I'm good," Grace said softly.
Eli studied her face, then smiled—genuine, relieved. "Yeah. You are." He clapped Luke on the shoulder. "Don't fuck this up, Bennett."
"Not planning on it."
Eli walked away, and then paused.
Grace followed his gaze without thinking.
A woman stood near the edge of the yard, cardigan buttoned, hair in a bun, laughing softly at something someone said.
Eli watched her for exactly three seconds.
Then he seemed to remember where he was, shoved his hands back into his pockets, and kept walking.
Grace looked at Luke. Luke looked at Grace.
"That went better than I expected," she said.
"He loves you," Luke said. "Of course it did."
They finished the funnel cake in comfortable silence, Grace licking sugar off her thumb while Luke watched with an expression that made her cheeks warm.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like—" She gestured vaguely. "That."
"I like looking at you,” Luke said. "I'm allowed to look at my girlfriend, aren’t I?”
The word sent a small thrill through her chest. "Are we doing that? Labels?"
"Grace Hart." He turned to face her fully. The tips of his ears were pink. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
Luke Bennett, who had walked her to school and fixed her sink and stood on a stage in front of everyone he knew and said her name into a microphone like it was the only word that mattered, was asking her to be his girlfriend.
And he was blushing.
She would always remember this. The way he looked right now. Wrecked and hopeful and entirely hers.
"Yes." It was the easiest word in the world. "Obviously yes."
The smile that broke across his face was devastating. Unguarded and bright and entirely hers.
"I'm really looking forward to dinner with you." Grace told him.
“Yeah?" Luke stepped closer. "When? Tomorrow night? I can make reservations at—"
“But I was thinking..." Grace's heart was suddenly racing. "Maybe we could do things a bit out of order.”
His brow furrowed. “Out of order?”
“Maybe we can skip ahead to the part where you walk me home." She looked up at him through her lashes.
Luke went very still. "Grace." His voice had gone rough. "I don't want you to think—I'm not expecting—"
"Luke." She stepped closer, eliminating the space between them. Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
His hands came to her waist, settling there.
Grace rose onto her toes and kissed him.
Right there. In the middle of the fall festival. With the smell of kettle corn and cider in the air and people everywhere and the sun still bright overhead.
Luke pulled her closer, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her head. The kiss deepened—his mouth warm and sure and hungry against hers.
Someone whistled, and they broke apart. But Luke didn’t go far.
Grace smiled against his mouth and felt him smile back.
Luke's pupils were blown wide and his grip on her waist had tightened.
"We should go," he said, voice strained. "Before I forget we're in public."
Grace laughed, giddy and bright. "Your place or mine?"
"Yours." His thumb traced her jaw. "I want to take you home. Walk you to your door like I should've done months ago."
"And then?"
"And then," Luke said, eyes dark with promise, "I'm going to kiss you on your porch. And then I'm going to come inside. And then—" He leaned down, mouth brushing her ear. "Then I'm going to show you exactly how much I've missed you."
Grace shivered. "That sounds like a very good plan."
Luke pulled back just enough to look at her. His expression was soft now. Wondering. "I love you," he said quietly.
Her heart was doing something embarrassing—too fast, too loud, the kind of racing that made it hard to think in straight lines. She was aware of his hands on her, of the festival sounds around them, of the fact that her face was probably giving everything away.
She'd wanted this. Had wanted it for so long that she'd taught herself to stop wanting it, had buried it under pride and practicality and the very sensible decision to protect herself from exactly this man.
And now here he was. Saying it like it was simple. Like it had always been true.
Maybe it had.
Of course he loved her.
Of course she loved him.
Grace kissed him again. Softer this time. Sweeter.
"I love you,” she murmured against his mouth.
His arms came around her fully then, sweeping her off the ground and up into his arms. Grace wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed.
Around them, the festival continued—music playing, children laughing, the familiar rhythm of Crystal Lake on a perfect autumn day.
And Grace was right in the center of it all. With Luke Bennett's arms around her and his heart beating steady against hers.
Exactly where she belonged.