Chapter 18 #2
Luke’s truck sat in the parking lot beside the diner, and they gravitated toward it without discussion.
Claire leaned against the passenger door while Luke stood in front of her.
He ran his knuckles across her cheek and across her shoulder before settling his hands on her hips, thumbs rubbing gentle circles through the fabric of her shirt.
“Happy three-month anniversary.” He kissed her cheek. “Best three months of my life.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. “Even though you reorganized my filing system and I couldn’t find anything for a week.”
“That filing system was chaotic.” She rested her hands on his biceps and tried not to melt when her knees went weak. “You had vendor contracts mixed with feed orders.”
“It made sense to me.”
“It made sense to no one.” A smile threatened as she remembered his expression when he’d discovered she’d spent an afternoon at the ranch office implementing a new organizational structure. He’d been annoyed for approximately ten minutes before admitting it was better.
“I love you.” The words still felt new and precious. She prayed they always carried a weight that made them unforgettable and never meaningless. “I love that I get to say that now. That I get to just tell you.”
“I love you too.” He kissed her. Soft and slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that made her forget they were standing in a parking lot where anyone could see. When he pulled back, his smile brightened his eyes. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being brave enough to choose this. To choose me.” His hands tightened on her hips.
A slow blink brought him more into focus. “You made it worth the risk.”
“We made it worth it.”
A pickup truck pulled into the lot, and they stepped apart slightly, though Luke kept one arm around her waist. Tom Martin climbed out and waved on his way into the diner. Claire waved back, no longer self-conscious about being seen.
That was new too. Being part of a couple. Being known as Luke’s girlfriend. The term felt inadequate for what they were to each other. Partner. Best friend. The person who knew all her difficult edges and loved her anyway.
“I should let you get to Granny Mama’s.” Luke kissed her forehead.
Claire pulled out her phone to check the time. “We’re eating at six. You can help me set the table.”
“Is that code for kissing you in the kitchen when Granny Mama’s not looking?”
“Maybe.”
Luke grinned and opened the passenger door for her.
“Then I’m definitely coming.” He drove with one hand on the wheel and the other holding hers, giving her the entire trip to watch his profile and the scenery rolling past on the other side.
A sense of rightness she’d been missing for years stitched together the broken pieces she’d guarded so jealously.
He’d helped her with that. Between God’s nudging and Luke’s persistence, she managed to find her way to a happiness she hadn’t thought possible.
Luke parked in the driveway and came around to help her out, though she could manage perfectly well on her own. She let him because she’d learned he liked doing small things for her. Liked taking care of her in the ways he knew how.
They walked up the porch steps and straight into the house, where the smell of roasting meat and vegetables caused her stomach to grumble despite the pie.
“That you, Claire?” Granny Mama called from the kitchen.
“It’s me. And Luke.”
“Good. I need someone to reach the serving platter on the top shelf.” Granny Mama hadn’t had a dizzy spell in a month, and she’d made it well known she fully expected to get back to her regular activities.
Her doctor had agreed, thankfully, and Granny Mama puttered around the kitchen with enough glee to make a kid at Christmas look depressed.
Luke squeezed Claire’s hand and headed for the kitchen. Claire stayed behind to hang her bag on the hook by the door and slip off her shoes. Luke’s voice mingled with Granny Mama’s, the two of them chuckling together.
She entered the kitchen to the sight of Luke standing on a step stool to retrieve the platter while Granny Mama supervised from below.
“There you are.” Granny Mama turned to her with a smile. “Set the table, would you? We’re eating in ten minutes.”
“Of course.” She didn’t remind Gran that she’d been setting the table every night. It made the older woman feel good to have the energy to give directions, even if she said it every single night.
Instead, she moved through the familiar routine. Plates from the cabinet. Silverware from the drawer. Glasses for water and sweet tea. Luke helped once he set the platter where Granny Mama directed, choosing to fold napkins of all things before he placed them beside each plate.
They ate dinner on the small kitchen table with the window open to let in the evening breeze. Granny Mama asked about the garden project once Luke brought it up, and Luke explained while gesturing with his fork, animated in a way he never used to be.
After dinner, Luke insisted on doing dishes while Claire and Granny Mama retired to the living room.
Claire sank into her favorite chair—the blue one by the window—and let the peace of the evening settle over her.
Luke stood just within sight at the sink, his sleeves rolled up, methodically washing and rinsing each dish.
Maybe that was why she loved this chair. It gave her a great view.
“He’s a good man.” Granny Mama sat in her rocking chair with her knitting in her lap, needles clicking in a soothing rhythm.
“He is.”