Chapter 37 Scarlett
scarlett
Two months later
Abby and I tracked down Rory, Lucas’s cousin. She was, ironically, in a motel in Tampa. Her rose gold hair took both of us by surprise, but then she smirked, and it was like looking at the female version of Lucas.
Telling her she had a cousin was more emotional than we anticipated; turns out she lost her mom too, and thought she was alone. But then, we got to tell her she had a half-brother, and she about lost it.
It didn’t take much to convince her to come to a game with us.
It’s fan favorite night, and while I have my “Goldie’s Girl” jersey, we have different plans for tonight.
Hannah told us a few weeks ago that Lucas has never had people he knew show up in his jersey.
So I bought five. One for Hannah and Abby, one for me, and one for Rory and Jackson.
It’s been tumultuous on that front. Lucas got hit from all angles in what felt like a matter of moments.
And his dad being alive all these years was the straw that broke him completely, but it’s also the brick that laid the foundation to true healing.
They go to therapy together once a week, and while he’s come to accept it, I don’t think he’s fully forgiven him yet.
Baby steps. Jackson has yet to miss a home game.
He still manages the rehab center, while I’ve fully taken over the ranch's daily operations.
Elliott has put together some impressive evidence.
He followed the guy driving the white truck from an airport in Texas to Florida.
Phone calls with my father and Damien. His mom’s death was officially ruled as murder, not suicide, thanks to a neighbor's camera that picked up a man breaking into her house. That wasn’t easy for either of them to handle, but luckily, they leaned on each other instead of Lucas running to Don Julio.
The difference between the friendships I’ve had my entire life and the family I’ve gained here is night and day. This is friendship, this is family. And as much as I hate the years I’ve lost, I couldn’t be more thankful that all roads lead me back to Florida.
Rory, Jackson, and I step through the arena doors decked out in our Monroe jerseys.
The signature smell of fried food and popcorn infiltrates our senses the second we’re inside.
This arena is massive, and it’s beautiful as far as stadiums go.
Always clean, friendly employees, and an atmosphere that breeds team spirit.
“I thought it’d be colder in here,” Rory says as she looks around, wide-eyed as she looks up at the top section. “How do they see from up there?”
Jackson laughs, ushering us to our seats in the front row, right behind the bench. “Hey guys!” Hannah yells. A tall blonde stands next to her and Abby, talking animatedly with a man who looks around Miller’s age. “This is Mr. Collins, he owns the team, and his daughter, Savannah.
“It’s nice to meet you,” the older man says, “Hannah told me you ladies wanted season tickets for these seats instead of sitting in the family box. I had to come see what all the commotion was about.” He winks, chuckling as his daughter rolls her eyes.
“I’m Savannah, but most everyone calls me Sav or Sunny.” She holds her hand out, shaking each of our hands. “I’m in town for the weekend, but I’ll head back to Colorado on Monday. Couldn’t miss a game though.”
“You don’t live here?” I ask when our hands drop.
She shakes her head, “No, I’m working for a team in Colorado.” She puts her hand on the side of her mouth before loudly whispering, “Dad says I’m a traitor. But I can’t work for him, it’s weird.”
“It wouldn’t be weird if you just took over so I could retire,” he quips.
“I don’t want the team, Dad. I like working in recruiting.” She responds like he annoys her, but the sparkle in her eye says she’s just having fun winding him up.
Before anyone else can say anything, Amy and William Wilder, along with Tate, come walking down the stairs. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting them over the past few months, and it’s still weird to me that the Wilder brothers have such supportive, loving parents. “What’d we miss?”
“Nothing, Mama Wilder,” Abby says, a smile creeping across her face.
The lights dim, and Rory bounces in her seat next to me. “This is awesome,” she whispers as the announcer starts to hype up the crowd. We purposely missed warm-ups so he wouldn’t see us in our gear.
“Gotta go, guys, see you later!” Abby yells, kissing Tate on the cheek before she runs down the aisle.
“I don’t know how I feel seeing her in another man’s jersey,” Tate complains, arms crossed over his chest. But he, too, is wearing Lucas’s jersey.
“Didn’t she show up in Zeke’s jersey to your game one time?” Hannah asks.
His eyes fly to hers, his scowl deepening. “You’re not helping.”
The announcer starts to call out the starting line of each team.
We clap and yell for all of them, but when they get to Lucas, all of us bang on the plexiglass.
The sound is loud enough to get him to turn his head, and when he does, all of us turn around, revealing the number 26 and his name across our backs.
When I look at him over my shoulder, his mouth is open, and the light catches on his face just right, which makes the shine in his eyes more visible.
His head drops back behind him, his lip pulled into his teeth as his shoulders rise and fall more rapidly with every breath.
Wilder puts his hand on his shoulder, offering him a smile as the national anthem is sung.
The second it’s over, though, he’s skating at a speed way too fast for the distance he is from us. Sliding to a stop seconds before running into the glass, he holds his gloved hand up, and I put mine over it. Jackson places his hand over mine, followed by Rory and Hannah.
Lucas has seen pictures of Rory, but never met her in person, so when his eyes land on her, water springs to them once more.
He lets out a watery chuckle that can be heard over the noise of the arena.
When his eyes meet the owner, he straightens, pulling his hand off the glass like he’d been burned.
Mr. Collins just smiles before putting a closed fist to the glass for Lucas to dab with his own.
They play their hearts out, and Lucas scores twice, pointing at us each time. The Hawks win four to one, and the second Lucas sees us in the family area, he drops his bag and runs, throwing his arms around his dad and me. “You don’t know how much that meant to me,” he whispers, voice shaking.
“What am I, chopped liver?” Rory says from the side.
When he pulls away, his chin almost meets his chest as he looks down at her. She’s tiny, not even reaching his shoulder. He holds out his hand, and she scoffs, “I get dragged from my hotel room to meet my cousin, and all he gives me is a handshake, no.”
A quick bark of laughter leaves him as he opens his arms and wraps them around her shoulders. “Yeah, we’re definitely related.”
Hannah claps next to us when her husband comes out. “Let’s go celebrate! You guys up for it?”
Nodding, we all walk out together, Lucas falling in line with his dad behind me. “Thanks for being here, Dad.”
Jackson’s quick intake of air feels like it sucked all the air from the hallway. “I…”
“Don’t make it weird,” Lucas says, clapping him on the shoulder like he’s done a hundred times before.
Their mixed rumbling laughter makes me wonder how I never noticed it before. Their mannerisms are so similar, I guess I just chalked it up to them spending so much time together. Not to mention, I’d known Lucas for a year before Miller showed up. But now that I know, it’s impossible not to notice.
“Where are we going?” I ask Hannah when she loops her arm through mine.
A devious smile crosses her face, “Remember when I told you Monroe could do a mean Cotton Eyed Joe?”
“What’s a Cotton Eyed Joe?” Rory asks from my other side.
“Did you say Cotton Eyed Joe?!” Lucas and Wilder say at the same time.
Hannah’s eyebrows dance across her face. Lucas takes off running before launching himself in the air, clicking his heels while he punches the air. Tate groans next to us, “Not again…”
“Come on, Tater Tot! It’ll be fun,” Hannah sings as she winks at her brother-in-law.
“Highly doubt it,” he grumbles as he slides into his car with his wife and parents.
“I’ll text you the address!” Hannah calls as we keep walking to my truck, which is parked next to Lucas’s brand new, black lifted jeep, complete with matte black sparrows placed along the sides.
He bends down, pressing a quick kiss on my lips. “You going to dance with me, Lettie Girl?”
My eyes bounce between his heated ones. The desire swirling in them has me biting softly on my lip. Nodding, I push up on my toes and kiss his chin. “See you there.”
Lord Almighty. I’m a fan of Lucas in full hockey gear, but I’m feral for the rearview of him in a pair of Wranglers.
Where he found those pants and boots between the time we left the arena and the time we got to this little bar, I will never know.
But I am not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“You’re drooling, Baby,” he murmurs as he puts his thumb on my chin, tilting my face toward his. I smile against his lips, unwilling to deny the fact that I was doing just that. “Dance with me?” he says between soft, short kisses.
I nod, and he pulls me to the dance floor just in time for the opening beat of Neon Moon to come on.
He pulls me close, palm firm on the small of my back, as we move through the dance.
The world slows as we sway to the beat. The chatter fades until all I can hear is the music and the rhythmic clack of our boots against the worn wood of the dance floor.
He pulls me closer before spinning me, then pulling me back into his chest with his hand settled on my hip.
His breath brushes against my ear as he leans in, whispering the words to the song, soft and a little off-key, but it makes me smile anyway.
My heart aches in that full kind of way that it’s always longed for.
The kind that says this is it, Scarlett. You’re home.
We continue through the moves, stomp after glide, turn, and a spin, never missing a beat like we’d done this together all our lives.
When the last note fades, the world filters back in, and we turn to our friends, every one of them is smiling.
Hannah, Abby, and Jackson are all crying, and then there’s Rory, clapping at the other end.
“That was so hot!” she yells through cupped hands. Lucas bows while my cheeks heat, but then he’s grabbing Hannah and Abby by the hands, spinning them around the floor before I can blink.
While they do that, Jackson and I try to teach Rory the eight-count dance to Cotton Eyed Joe, because there’s no chance that song won’t come on at some point tonight.
She trips over herself in the most adorable way, but eventually gets it just in time for the song to come on, causing everyone in the place to rush the dance floor.
By the time the song ends, we’re all laughing. “This was fun,” I say as I lean against Lucas’s chest. His arms wrap around my waist, his chin resting against the top of my head. “Thanks for bringing us out, Hannah.”
“Any time!”
“Can I take my woman home now?” he whispers in my ear, his breath sending goosebumps across my skin.
“Only if you make me grilled cheese.” I smile up at him.
He kisses my cheek, “Whatever you want is yours, Lettie Girl.”
I hum, before we say goodbye and head for his Jeep. Jackson drove us earlier, and I saw him slip out the door minutes before the song ended. I’ll have to check on him tomorrow. “I love you,” I say as I plant a kiss on his cheek before he closes my door.
“I love you, too. You and me forever, Lettie Girl.”
You and me forever, Goldie.