Chapter 8 Lucas
lucas
Her head rests heavy against my arm, and for what feels like years, it’s as if I forgot how to breathe. One second, she was upright, the next her head collided with the dirt, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Her fall impossibly loud, filling my ears with the echo of the impact.
I can feel the tremble of my fingers as they hover over her, wanting to touch her, but not knowing how she’d feel about it.
I brush a hand through my hair, trying to quell the shake in my own body.
It doesn’t fade. Instead, it crawls up my arms, snaking through my shoulders before twisting through my chest like a livewire.
This is the first time I’ve held her since I was sixteen, and the realization hits me like a branding iron, burning a permanent mark on my heart.
My eyes slam closed, my Lettie, so stubborn, so defiant, feels impossibly small in my arms. I pull at the end of her braid, removing the ponytail that holds it together.
My fingers immediately run through it, grounding myself to the moment.
I focus on counting the number of times her chest rises and falls.
Every nerve ending alive, every muscle taut, every heartbeat a bass drum echoing through my brain.
I pull her closer, clocking the small, intimate details of her.
The softness of her hair, the warmth of her skin, how she feels pressed up against me.
And in the midst of unbearable fear, I realize I’d hold her like this forever if I could, letting the outside world vanish, narrow to nothing but the two of us.
“What are you doing here?” She croaks, eyes still closed.
I chuckle, afraid to let out a sigh of relief. “You gotta stop asking me that.” I keep running my fingertips across the back of her head. “How’d you know it was me?”
She sighs. “I’d know the beat of your heart in every lifetime, Lucas.” Her face tightens like she just realized what she said and wishes she could take it back. Her eyes flit to mine, and a hint of panic rests on the surface.
I try to hide my smile, but it’s no use. I bask in those words, resisting the urge to puff out my chest. It may not be much, but I’ll go out on a high note. Hell, put that on my tombstone. I don’t comment on it, though. Not yet. Instead, I bring the focus back to her, unwilling to let her retreat.
“You scared the hell out of me, Lettie.” My voice comes out rough. “I saw you fall and everything in me just… stopped.”
She stirs, lashes fluttering as her eyes bounce around the room like she’s planning her escape.
I squeeze the hand that's resting on the outside of her thigh as if my touch is an anchor for her, like hers is for me. I want to keep her here, just for a few more minutes. “Are you okay? Is there someone I need to call?” I pray the answer is no. I haven’t seen anyone here with her, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone back home waiting for her.
She tips her head back, her cheek brushing against my chest. “No.” Her eyes are wild, as a hurricane of things unsaid swirls through them, then she locks it down with a single blink.
I press my forehead to hers and breathe in relief, that is, until she slowly slides off my lap.
“Wait. What happened?” I plead. The chill of her indifference feels monumental in the absence of her warmth.
My fingers lace together, hanging limply between my spread thighs, rhythmically squeezing against the backs of my hands to keep from reaching back out for her.
She shrugs. “Nothing I can’t handle myself.” Something closes behind her eyes, the momentary warmth drains, and in its place, her walls slam back up. “Just need some electrolytes, it’s hot.” I’ll call bullshit on that all day. It's hotter and drier in Texas than it is here.
My eyes narrow. “You’re still a shitty liar.” My fear comes out as misplaced sarcasm, easier to play off as a joke than to admit I about lost my marbles watching her fall. I was too far to catch her, and the guilt gnaws at me because I promised her I always would.
She squares her shoulders, chin tilting before she spins on her heel without a word, stomping to the kitchen with her head held high like she didn’t just take an entire decade off my life.
Unfortunately for her, I’m faster. I pull out a chair, softly pressing at her shoulders.
“Sit, please.” My voice comes out as a desperate plea. I need to breathe for a second.
She moves in slow motion, crossing her arms over her chest, nails biting into her biceps in a way I’m sure will leave bruises as she glares at me. “I can take care of myself, Lucas.” That defiant eye roll makes me want to put her over my knee, turn her ass red for disrespecting her elders.
I lean closer, placing my hand on the back of her chair and bending until we’re eye level. “It’d be the pleasure of my damn life to take care of you for half a second, Lettie.” Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t look away.
“Now,” I murmur, a smirk slides across my face as her breath ghosts across my lips. I have never been so tempted to steal a kiss in my life. But before I push her past the point of no return, I continue. “Be a good girl and tell me where you keep the electrolytes.”
Her eyes flare. “Listen,” she growls. “You can help, but I don’t do pet names.”
I straighten, ignoring her comment like she ignored my questions the day she got here. “Do you have a preference?” I ask as I look through the assortment.
Watermelon. “Watermelon,” she mumbles. I crack a smile before turning to face her.
Putting the packet between my teeth, I tear it open, my eyes never straying from hers.
Her hair is wild, perfectly tousled in a way that only comes from running your fingers through it.
My heart lightens as I recall the feel of it as the stands slid through my fingers.
“You haven’t changed as much as you think,” I say, twisting the cap back onto the bottle. “My girl’s still in there somewhere.”
She stands, taking four steps, coming nearly toe to toe with me. Her head tilts back, fire blazing in her gaze. “I am not your girl,” she says through gritted teeth.
I smile, bringing my bottle to my lips, hoping to hide the fact that I’m unraveling inside.
My future gets a bit dimmer each time she shuts me down.
Maybe the chance for us is long gone, a fear I don’t dare voice.
“Keep telling yourself that.” The prettiest shade of pink travels up her neck until it tints her cheeks under her naturally tan skin.
“Wanna tell me the truth now? You don’t just trip for no reason. Never knew you to be a clutz.”
She rolls her eyes, spinning so her hair hits me in the chest before returning to the chair she was in.
“I saw someone cut the fence the other day.” She takes a drink, her tongue mindlessly dragging across her lip.
“He ran to a white truck, and I saw it drive by again. I wanted to make sure I was near the kids in case I needed to step in.” She says it like it’s nothing.
She’s always been a protector, a reminder I live with every day.
The scar that slices through my eyebrow, the one tangible piece of her I had to hold on to all these years.
The old ranch chef had two kids who had it out for Lettie and me for some reason.
They snuck up on us at the river one day.
Pushed me from behind, my head collided with a rock, cutting me open, but she didn’t miss a beat, though, when her tiny fist hit the kid right in the throat.
“Did you tell Miller?”
She shakes her head, but her gaze stays focused on her boots.
My hands rest on the counter on either side of my hips, crossing one ankle over the other before asking. “Why not?”
Her eyes lift to meet mine, lips pressing into a thin line before exhaling sharply. “Because, like I’ve already said, I can take care of myself.”
My fingers flex against the counter until my knuckles ache, so I don’t reach for her. Lord knows I want to grab her shoulders and shake the stubbornness right out of her. “Sure, but you don’t have to anymore.” I pause, shifting my weight to my other foot. “Plus, it’s not just you out here.”
“You think because you have a dick you can tell me what to do?”
My mouth falls open, the comment coming so far from left field that it takes me a second to register it.
The fear hidden under the bite. Not of me, but of needing anyone at all.
I tuck that away for later, but right now, a laugh rips out of me, bouncing off the kitchen walls.
Swiping at my eyes, I look at the very unamused woman sitting in front of me.
“I’m glad you remember I have one of those.” I step forward, letting my fingers trail lightly down her cheek, fully aware that I’m pushing against every boundary she has. “You were pretty fond of it, last I checked.”
She gasps, cheeks flushing as her grip tightens around her water bottle, the plastic crackling under her fingers. Point one for Lucas.
When she doesn’t immediately fire back, I drop my hand and lean against the wall.
My voice is softer when I speak, the humor completely gone.
“Look… I’ll keep showing up, I want to be here.
But I need to know you want me here, too.
Not just for the ranch. For you.” My throat works to swallow around the lump lodged in the back of it.
“If you don’t want me around, I’ll go. But I can’t keep pretending we’re ships in the night. Not with you.”
“You think I need you to show up?” She snaps, crossing one leg over the other, a shield more than anything.
“Let me reintroduce myself, Lucas.” My name a hissed breath, followed by that stupid lift of her chin. It gives me the perfect view of her lips, lips I’d love nothing more than to kiss the sass right out of.