Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Luke
“Luke!” she gasped, holding her phone to her ear, mouth dropping open. The skin around her eyes was red and puffy, melted mascara along the bottom lids.
She'd been crying.
He was sure it was all his fault.
“Hi.”
Something was off, though, worse than just crying. Those green eyes looked too dark. Her pupils were dilated and she kept licking her lips, blinking rapidly.
“What's wrong, Kylie?”
“Um... everything. Luke?”
The squeak at the end of her words, followed by a breathlessness that tapped into something primeval in him, made him move, stepping into the room without being invited.
Because she was in distress.
“Kylie? Why are you saying Luke's name?” said someone from the phone in her hand.
“Uh,” Kylie said, staring at the phone like it was a poisonous snake.
Taking command of the situation, he slipped the phone from her grip, looked at the contact information, and said into it, “This is Luke. I'm here now. I’ll take care of her. Bye, Rachel.”
Hitting End, he tossed the phone on the bed behind her, then leaned against the door jamb, crossing his arms over his chest. Being defensive wasn't going to help anyone, but if he didn't contain his hands, he was going to touch her. Hold her. Hug her. Kiss her.
And there were words to say first.
“You're having a panic attack.”
She nodded.
“Breathe, Kylie. Breathe.”
The rules were different now, after what he'd done on Christmas. Grabbing her hands, looking her in the eye, talking her through this, wouldn't work if she hated him.
And she had every right to hate him.
The panic attack started before he arrived, though. Why? What had happened to her?
The lines of her throat moved as she swallowed, then he watched as she gulped air. Face twisting in sadness, she began to cry. That's when he broke his own code.
And pulled her into his arms.
Sobbing, she buried her face in his chest and gulped air, his hand on her back tracing circles, presence the only way to soothe her. All his stupidity came roaring through him as he flashed back on the time since he'd found her in that donation bin at Deke's Service Station.
All his missteps.
Slowly, laboriously, her crying wound down, muscles softening, chest rising and falling in a steadier rhythm.
“That's more like it,” he whispered into her hair, loose around her ears. She smelled so good. So warm and lush.
So perfect.
And then she pulled away.
“What are you doing here? Here? Here! Here in Manhattan!” she demanded, eyes red and puffy, voice shaking but determined.
“Had a hankering for a foot-long hot dog from one of those stands in Times Square. Thought I'd drop by while I was here.”
“LUKE!”
Charming her wasn't going to work. Got it. Time to be direct.
And own his mistake.
“I'm here because I'm a dumbass. Colleen says so, but I knew it before she lectured me.”
“Colleen what?”
“Not that she ever misses a chance to call me a dumbass whenever possible, but this time she's right. Really right. I was wrong, Kylie. Wrong.”
“Wrong about what?”
“Everything.”
“I don't understand.”
“Neither do I, but I'm going to try to undo the damage I've done, if you'll hear me out.”
“Hear you out?”
“May I come in?”
“Of course!” Stepping aside, she pressed her back against the wall, one hand holding her other arm in a nervous gesture that made her look so confused and lost, he wanted to sweep her into his arms and hold her forever.
Except that's not what would happen.
He couldn't just hold her and make this all better. If only.
And before he could even entertain the thought of more, he had some wrongs to right. It was all on him.
The room was tiny, like most New York City hotels, but there was the bed and a single desk chair. He took the chair, his thighs aching as he settled in. Driving straight from Maine to New York with only one pit stop had been hard on his legs, but harder on his heart.
Hours alone in the car with nothing but the radio or conscience to keep him busy meant he’d been hammered hard by his own inner critic. In the heat of the moment on Christmas, he’d put up an instant wall, reinforced by a layer of pain, and it had been deeply unfair to her. He saw that now.
If she rejected him, he wasn't sure how he'd survive.
So he had to make this good.
She sat down on the bed, anxious, eyes darting everywhere.
“Kylie, on Christmas, I–”
The sun caught the silver pendant around her neck, a lump forming in his throat, emotion all over the place, suddenly pouring through the space that his logical, moral mind had just dominated.
She was wearing his present.
There was plenty of room for hope.
“–I was hasty. I told you I loved you, and I meant it. I do. I love you. And then I hurt you.”
“I hurt you too, Luke! I never meant to, but I did.”
He stood, legs aching, and gently pressed his fingertips over her lips, sitting next to her on the bed, his weight shifting her toward him, the heat of her body making this harder.
Because he knew he had no right to expect her to forgive him.
“Shhh. Let me finish. When a man apologizes, he needs to do it in full, go through all the layers, and say his piece. I refuse to do this halfway, Kylie. It's all or nothing with me, and I'll give you nothing less than my all.”
Something flickered in her eyes, a gravity that clicked into place, one that took him in on a deeper level.
“Go ahead.”
“I was afraid. Terrified. It was three days ago, but it feels like ten years. When I said I love you and your response was about leaving, it felt like you jumped up and down on my heart in spiked shoes.” One corner of his mouth crooked up. “Like the goat on the Bilbee’s Tavern sign.”
She didn’t laugh.
“You didn't know I was going to tell you how I feel about you, and I didn't know how important this job offer was to you. Is to you,” he stressed.
Kylie opened her mouth to say something, but shut it quickly.
“Do you have any idea how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for me and Harriet, Kylie?
How much I admire you? Even if you decide you don’t want me in your life, I’ll always have that.
You came out of nowhere, tucked away in that metal charity box, and changed my whole life.
Smiling and nothing but sunshine at my door the next day, holding a basket full of muffins, walking into my house and giving it so much light.
You brought happiness and smiles back into our lives.
You make it easy to come home from a hard day at work.
We talk about life, and not just responsibilities.
I want to date you. Hang out at Bilbee’s with you.
Take you out, treat you to everything you want in life.
Every moment I’m with you, I feel a sense of hope again.
Do you have any idea how special you are to me? ”
“That’s just me being… me,” she replied, shaking her head like she didn’t understand.
“Exactly.” His soft laugh made her smile as he stared at her. “I’m grateful for you, Kylie. Who you are. How you are. Every drop of your being. Because you make me remember what being whole is like.”
She sighed. “Which means that when you told me you loved me, and I told you about this – ” She gestured to the window, where neon lights looked like abstract art behind the sheer curtains, Manhattan’s skyline diffuse but looming.
“I flipped out. You're right–I used Harriet as an excuse. Not that there isn't some truth to what I said–she absolutely has to have that pure little heart protected.”
“Of course!” Tears filled her eyes. “I would never, ever hurt her,” she whispered furiously.
His fingers interlaced with hers. “I know.”
“Good.” She stared deeply into his eyes and took a deep, determined breath. “You’re a package deal. I know that.”
“Yes, we are. It’s not just me. You get that. If we’re doing this, you have to accept my daughter, too.”
“Accept? Have to? You make it sound like something I do reluctantly. I wholeheartedly embrace her! I love her! And you. I feel honored to have life give me so much, Luke. What did I do to deserve such an incredible man and a wonderful child? Why me?”
Her words, why me, hit like a gut punch.
The idea of starting over with a new woman had always been complicated by Harriet, because he’d never, ever compromise when it came to his child.
He’d rather live a lonely, sad life than have any woman he brought into his home treat her like a burden, a third wheel, a nuisance.
His little girl deserved a mother-figure who would open up her whole, entire heart and let Harriet snuggle right on in.
And here was Kylie, saying everything he assumed he’d never hear.
But desperately hoped for.
“After Amber died, I wondered: Why me? Pity party, right? But who am I to escape bad events? Everyone has problems, some of them bigger than others. Why not me? Having my wife die in an accident like that was random bad luck. I know that now. But I went through an awfully long time wondering why me. And at one point, I convinced myself I must not be good enough.”
“Good enough for what?”
Hand shaking, he raked his hair, wondering if it was safe to be this vulnerable, yet feeling like he had no choice. For two years, he'd locked a piece of himself away, walled it off, boxed himself in, thinking that was the best way to give Harriet what she needed and get through the day.
Finding Kylie trapped in a box had freed him from his own.
“Good enough to be happy. To be loved. To be–”
She cut him off with a kiss, her mouth on his with a softness, tears wet on her cheeks as he reached up to hold her closer, their salty taste so real, so authentic.
Emotion filled their mouths, tongues moving with grace and hope, his blood racing, warming as her hands encircled his waist, turning toward each other for more.
He broke the kiss.
“I’ll move here. I’ll find a job. Harriet would love the excitement of the city.”
“Luke, stop.”
“I mean it, Kylie. It’ll take time. Or we could do that long-distance relationship thing, where you come up on weekends and we spend summers and school breaks in the city.
I don’t know.” He shoved his fingers, hard, into his hairline, rubbing his scalp like he was willing blood to flow to his brain, to give him some new idea he hadn’t thought of.
“It's not that simple.”
Hope rose, and hope plummeted.
“Can't it be? What's wrong with simple?”
“I can't have you move here.”
Confused, he watched her for signals, the mixed message harder with each passing second. “What do you mean?”
“I mean–I do have a job offer. Sort of. That all depends on you.”
“Me?”
“It's, uh... complicated. But basically, they want me to come on board and manage a new reality show for kids.”
“You did get the job!”
“I–well, it depends on whether you're willing to have a TV crew come to Luview and film the creation of a fairy camp at your new home.”
Without question, those were the last words he ever expected out of her mouth.
“Could–could you explain that again? I don't think I heard you right.”
“Oh, you did. I mentioned that I'm from Luview, and somehow we started talking about fairies–”
“Somehow,” he said dryly.
She swatted him. “And it went from there. They loved the idea of a documentary series about the creation of a fairy camp in rural Maine, one near Love You. And when they learned I knew the Luview family… If – if –” Nerves made her stutter. “If I could convince you to–”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Whatever you want, yes. Yes to everything.”
“You don't even know what I was about to ask!”
“Doesn't matter. Don't care. Yes.”
“They want me to help produce a reality TV show in Luview.”
“Like, Portia Starman’s show?”
“A children’s show about a fairy camp in Love You, Maine, the love-liest town on Earth.”
“If it means you’ll forgive me and we can be together, they can film a monster truck rally with ferrets driving the trucks while Lucinda Armistead pours chocolate all over them, for all I care.”
“Luke!” To his surprise, she pulled out of his arms and stood, walking to the far end of the tiny room, then turning back, facing him with steely determination. “I have something else to say.”
“Okay.”
Her throat jumped with emotion, nostrils widening as she took in a deep breath, looked him straight in the eye, and said, “I love you, too.”
“Didn't have to say it from across the room.”
“I had to say it, though. I’ve been kicking myself for not responding in kind on Christmas.”
“You had your own words to tell me.”
“I did. And I'm a dumbass, too. Nothing about that conversation went the way I wanted it to.”
“And here we are, in New York City, telling each other we're in love.”
“I'm in love with you again, Luke. Again, or still. I don't think I ever stopped loving you, since that day we kissed on the pier.”
Four steps. That's all it took to kiss her again.
And this time, there was no way he was stopping at just kissing.
Perfect moments never seemed to come the way he expected. This was another one. The kiss was timeless, her mouth a sanctuary, their touch more than a promise.
It was a vow.