He waited at the bottom, one hand on the newel post, his eyes never leaving hers from the moment she appeared at the top.
“Thank you,” he said, nodding upward.
“I’ve always loved her. Did you think I wouldn’t welcome her?”
His jaw knotted. “I meant, for not questioning our reappearance. I don’t think she ever understood that we weren’t supposed to turn around and come back to Middleton.”
She stood two steps from the bottom, where she could still look down at him. “Why did you come back?”
“Because I realized you were right.” His voice was raw. He wasn’t a man accustomed to admitting to faults. “I didn’t listen to her. I thought about my responsibilities, not her needs.”
A wave of dizzying relief washed over Lucy. She had to grab the banister for support. She had been right about him after all. No, wrong, at least the last time she saw him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For everything I said. I should have trusted you.”
“No.” He reached out, his hand stopping just short of covering hers. His fingers curled into a fist and he withdrew it, as if unsure whether his touch was wanted. “No,” he said hoarsely. “I needed to hear every word. I almost didn’t, you know. I was pretty angry when I left.”
“I know.” Oh, she yearned for him to take her in his arms! But she wasn’t sure that was what he had in mind at all. He would still be going back to Seattle. Would he ask her again to go?
She had already answered that question for herself. Yes, yes, yes! Even though she had discovered, after a lifetime of chafing at the bonds of family and small town, that she belonged here. But she belonged with him, too; him, most of all. Perhaps, like Dr. Slater’s wife, she could persuade Adrian to retire to Middleton someday.
She had hurt him, though, and he was a proud man. He might never ask again. He might not want her.
“I had to explain over and over where we were going,” he said. “But nothing I said sunk in. Mom just kept asking whether we were going home after we rode the ferry.”
“And so you decided to bring her.”
He grimaced. “And thus we’re, uh, imposing on you. Do you need to go to work? I can stay here with Mom, or take her over to your sister’s once she wakes up.”
“What do you have in mind?” Lucy asked. “I mean, for your mom?”
“Well, that depends.” He rubbed the back of his neck, as if to ease tension. “Don’t you have to go? I could come back tonight to talk to you, when you get home. Or tomorrow.”
“Let me see if I can find someone to fill in for me.”
She left him standing there and went to the kitchen, where she made a swift phone call. Then she returned and said, “I’m off the hook until Tuesday. Let’s sit down.”
He nodded and followed her into the living room, where he hesitated until she sat on one end of the sofa, one foot curled beneath her. He chose the other end, close enough that she could see how rigidly he held himself, the strain on his face, the tight line of his mouth.
“I may buy her a house. Or rent her a room, depending on what you think’s best.”
Oh. He wanted only to talk about arrangements for his mother.
Lucy nodded, as if considering the options.
“Or perhaps, ah, something like a mother-in-law apartment.” Even his voice sounded stifled, with a soft burr. Only his eyes were vividly alive, searching her face. “Depending on you.”
Not on what she thought best, but her. Hope swelled painfully in her chest.
“What do you mean?” she asked carefully.
“I love you. I didn’t just bring my mother back. I brought myself back.”
Tears overflowed, and she launched herself at him. “Oh, Adrian! This has been the worst day of my life!”
His arms closed around her with bruising force, and he pressed his cheek against the top of her head. “God. I was so afraid—”
When he broke off, she pulled back slightly so that she could see his face. The vulnerability there wrenched her heart.
“I thought...you hadn’t really loved me. Believing that was easy. Or maybe I never quite believed you did. After my mother left me—”
“You never felt loved again,” she said slowly, shocked despite herself.
“Felt?” His face twisted. “I don’t think I was. My father...I doubt he knew how.”
“Oh, Adrian.” Lucy kissed him slowly, sweetly, tasting her tears and knowing he would as well. “I love you.”
He made an inarticulate sound that vibrated in his chest then kissed her back, his mouth hungry. Passion was there, but the desperation with which they held each other had another cause entirely.
“Can you stay tonight?” Lucy asked, when she could. “I don’t care if your mother’s in the guest room....”
“I can stay. If you mean it.” Her next kiss apparently reassured him. It was a minute before he could continue. “I can stick around until Monday—”
“Really?” She drew back again. “You’ve missed so much work.”
“I’m quitting,” he said flatly.
Shaken, Lucy shook her head. She had to have heard wrong. “What?”
“If you want to stay in Middleton, I’ll buy Weatherby’s practice if he’s really prepared to sell. If you don’t—”
She interrupted him. “But...you can’t possibly want to give up being a partner in a major Seattle law firm so that you can...well, defend Bill Bartovich when he gets in a drunken brawl at the tavern.”
He actually grinned at her, so handsome he took her breath away. “I thought Middleton had real crime.”
“Of course it does. Sometimes. But...mostly, you’d probably be drawing up wills and refereeing property disputes and—”
“Defending drunken loggers?”
“Yes.”
He was still smiling, so much tenderness in eyes she’d once considered chilly, Lucy thought she could die happy right that minute. “What you mean is, I could take care of the legal concerns of my friends and neighbors. Instead of defending corporate scum in court.”
“Surely you don’t feel that way about all your clients.”
Adrian made a quick, impatient gesture. “No. Of course not. But I’ve had increasing doubts lately. Especially—” he cupped her face “—since I met you. I’ve been...jealous. I want what you have. Family. People who care.”
Her eyes filled with tears again.
With his thumbs, he gently brushed the tears away. “If you want to move to Seattle—or anywhere at all—that’s okay, too. I’m still quitting the firm. I want to do something different with my life. We can make provisions for Mom.”
She couldn’t seem to quit crying, even though now her nose was running, too. “Are you sure? I do want to stay here, but not if you’ll be unhappy—”
“Never.” He pulled her close and let her weep happily against his shoulder. “I was kind of hoping you’d say that. Middleton seems to have cast its spell on me. I like the idea of raising our kids here.”
Lucy wept some more. Eventually, she left him long enough to wash her face and blow her nose. She didn’t dare even peek at the mirror. He loved her; he wouldn’t care that her face was blotchy and puffy and horribly unattractive.
When she returned to him he kissed her as if he hadn’t noticed how she looked at all. Lucy found that amazingly satisfying.
Finally, with her cuddled up to him, he said, “On the ferry I flipped through some real estate booklets. I saw a house for sale here in Middleton. A big old place with a carriage house that’s been turned into an apartment.”
“Oh!” She sat up. “The Andrews house. I’ve seen the For Sale sign. It’s amazing. But...can you afford it?”
“Sure,” he said in surprise. “Or we could stay here. Do you own this
house?”
Lucy shook her head. “I rent from my uncle Will. Of course he’d never kick me out.”
“Do you mind moving? Right after you started your dream garden?”
“No. Oh, no.” Darned if she wasn’t near to tears again. “I can start again. And that garden will be my own.”
Adrian nodded. “I asked you once before, but I think I need to do it again. Will you marry me, Lucy Peterson?”
“Yes. Yes!”
They kissed, and they held each other, and they murmured confidences. He told her that they’d had to wait nearly forty-five minutes in the ferry line on the other side, and he’d gotten the paperback copy of The Fellowship of the Ring, with its yellowed pages, out of the trunk and started reading it to his mother.
“She was too tired to go up top once we did get on the ferry, so she took a turn reading to me during the crossing.”
“Was it worth the wait?” Lucy asked.
He was silent for a moment. “Yeah. It was pretty gripping. And sitting there, with my mom reading to me, after all these years...” His voice roughened. “Isn’t it funny, when you think you have everything you need, and then you discover you didn’t. Here I am with my mother, and you, and someplace to call home.”
Her chest hurt, she loved him so much. Lucy nodded. “And I have you, and I’ve found out I don’t want to leave home after all.”
She could hardly wait to tell the hat lady that miracles happened every day.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460331262
THE TROUBLE WITH JOE
Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright
holders of the individual works as follows:
THE TROUBLE WITH JOE
Copyright © 1994 by Emilie Richards McGee
SOMEONE LIKE HER
Copyright © 2009 by Janice Kay Johnson
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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