LUCIEN: A Standalone Romance

by Glenna Sinclair

  “We were kids,” I said after a while. “We were having fun, not really thinking about the consequences. It never crossed my mind that I might have left Julia in trouble.”

  “But you did.”

  “I did. And I would have done the right thing if I’d known.”

  JT lifted his casted leg and adjusted it on the pillow the flight attendant had once again provided him with. Then he sat back, his eyes moving everywhere but to my face.

  “Would you have married her if you had known?”

  “I’d like to think I would have. But you can’t really know what you might do until you’re actually in that situation.”

  “Then you might not have.”

  “I don’t know JT. I just…I really don’t know.”

  I looked at him then, for just a second before he turned back to the window, blinking quickly as though trying to keep tears from falling.

  “JT, I can’t rewrite history. I can’t go back and undo what’s been done. But I can tell you that the moment I found out about you, I did everything I could to track you down and get to know you. I want you in my life.”

  “But she doesn’t.”

  “Who?”

  JT shook his head, but I could see tears streaming down his cheeks in the reflection in the window. I moved to the seat next to him and touched his shoulder.

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “My mother. She just gave me away like I was an inconvenience.”

  “No, she didn’t.” I ran my hand over his shoulder to catch a tear with my finger as it rolled off of his chin. “Giving you up was probably one of the hardest things Julia had ever done. But she had no one to help her. Her parents threatened to cut her off if she kept you. and she had no job, no place to live, no education. What kind of life could she have given you?”

  “We would have been okay. Penelope and I were.”

  “But Penelope and Julia are two very different people. And Penelope had the help of the people in that little town where you live. Julia wouldn’t have had that.”

  I tugged at his chin, forced him to look at me.

  “Julia did the right thing, JT. As hard as it is for the two of us to accept, neither of us were in her position. Neither of us had to make that choice. But Julia did what was ultimately the best thing for you. And if she hadn’t, you never would have known your adoptive parents. You never would have had someone like Penelope in your life.”

  JT looked away for a minute. Then he nodded.

  “I know this is hard, JT, but we’re all doing the best we can.”

  He nodded. “Are you going to make Penelope leave when my leg is better?”

  “I don’t think anyone can make Penelope do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

  JT laughed, a soft sound that had as much sadness in it as humor.

  “You have that right.”

  Unfortunately, I knew I was right. And I was afraid that whatever happened next, one of us would be disappointed with Penelope’s choice.

  Chapter 25

  Penelope

  “You’re an artist.”

  I looked up, amused by the surprise in her voice. I’d been sketching in a sketchbook I’d just bought at an art supply store while I waited for Libby to join me at the restaurant where we’d decided to have lunch. She looked a little disheveled as she skirted around my chair and plopped into the one across from me.

  “Bad morning?”

  She sighed as lifted the water glass sitting beside her plate and took a deep gulp.

  “Harrison is a wonderful man, a great uncle, and an unbeatable CEO. I can’t even pretend to fill his shoes at the office. I barely got out of there between the constant phone calls and lists of must-dos that end up on my desk every morning.”

  I carefully closed my sketchbook and took a second to slide it into my bag, not really sure I wanted to discuss Harrison with his sister. I wasn’t sure I was ready to discuss Harrison with anyone at the moment. I was still reeling from his pretty obvious attempt to tell me he had no feelings for me last night in that stupid convenience store. I mean, come on! I’d practically asked him if he wanted me, and he made a joke out of it.

  It was pretty obvious that his feelings didn’t go much deeper than our shared enjoyment in the bedroom.

  The waiter came over and Libby ordered a bottle of red wine that was worth more than the bakery made in a week. When she caught the look on my face, she asked, “You do like red, don’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  She smiled. “I’m kind of partial to it. Harrison keeps trying to convince me that you should only drink red with specific meals, but I drink it with anything. I don’t really care about all that stuff.”

  “I like red, too. That’s all I ever order.”

  “Good. I knew you and I would have something more than Harrison in common.”

  I sort of nodded, my eyes falling to my hands where they were clutched in my lap. I felt out of place. Not only in the restaurant, but with Libby. I felt like she thought she knew something about Harrison and me…or maybe she was just so fond of her brother that she assumed everyone loved him too. I don’t know, but I hoped she would want to talk about something other than Harrison.

  “So, I feel like I know so little about you. Harrison said that you run your parents’ bakery back in Texas?”

  “It was the family business before they died. And after, it just seemed logical to keep it going to pay off their debts and to make a living for JT and me.”

  “Do you like working in the bakery?”

  No one had ever asked me that. The truth was, I hated it. I hated having flour in my clothing, my hair, my pores. I hated the constant cloying feel of sugar that seemed to get into everything. I hated having to taste the frostings and the cake batters and the cookies all day long. And I hated getting up before dawn to open the shop, hated keeping the books, hated having to deal with the customers—as much as I loved my friends and neighbors who’d done so much to help me keep the bakery open. The only thing I really liked about it was the cake decorating. But even that got a little tedious after a while.

  Libby watched me search for an answer, her chin resting on her hand.

  “You have so much in common with Harrison,” she said before I could come up with anything.

  “Do I?”

  “The last thing he wanted was to work in the furniture factory. From the moment he turned eighteen, he was out of here, going to the one college our father would allow him to attend that was as far from home as possible, taking every internship he could to stay away during the summers. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with Ashland Furniture.”

  “What changed?”

  “Father died.”

  The waiter came with the bottle of wine. He poured us both a glass. It was the sweetest, most flavorful wine I’d ever tasted. I think I finished that first glass in just two swallows. Libby poured me another glass, waving the waiter away as she raised her own glass to her lips. After a long sip, she set it down and focused on me again.

  “My father was a lot of things, but he was not a great business man. Turns out he owed everyone he knew and then some. Mother would have lost the house, and she and I would have been out on the streets if Harrison hadn’t agreed to come home and take over the business.”

  “What about Randy?”

  Libby groaned. “He’d already been in and out of rehab a half dozen times by then. Mother knew absolutely nothing about business and I was only fifteen, the same age as JT. Harrison was the only one who could do it. And he never balked.”

  I needed another sip of wine. I hadn’t known any of that, what Harrison must have gone through in the wake of his father’s death. I had JT to think about after my parents died. Harrison didn’t have just an underage sibling, but his mother and a drug addicted brother, too.

  “What had he planned on doing before your father died?”

  Libby’s eyebrows rose. “He didn’t tell you?” Then she shook her head, answer
ing her own question. “No, he wouldn’t have. He wanted to be a high school English teacher.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded. “The state of Oregon requires teachers to have a master’s degree in their chosen field. He was a semester short of that goal when Father died. It was almost as if Father did it on purpose.”

  At least I got to live my dream briefly.

  And so did he. Sort of.

  “He’s in love with you, you know.”

  I looked up, a little lost. Libby was watching me over the rim of her wine glass. She smiled as she studied me.

  “I haven’t heard him talk about a woman the way he talked about you in a long time. I thought from all those phone calls that he was just frustrated by the situation. But after he met you, it was like every conversation we had centered on you, not JT. And then that morning in the courthouse, when he saw you in that room, I just knew. My brother was finally in love.”

  I shook my head. “I think maybe you misunderstood what you saw.”

  “No. I know my brother.” She set her glass down and reached across the table to take my hand. “Harrison has never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. It takes a lot for him to admit when he has feelings for someone. But don’t let him push you away because he’s acting like a stubborn ass.” She squeezed my hand lightly before letting go. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, too. I know you don’t want him to push you away. In fact,” she sighed as she picked up the menu, “I think everyone knows how the two of you feel about each other but the two of you.”

  I blushed, wondering if my heart really was that obvious. But I also couldn’t ignore the fact that her words had made my heart soar in a way it hadn’t done…ever.

  We shared a nice meal, then Libby drove me around town to show me the many brighter parts of Ashland. We ended up walking through Lithia Park; eating ice cream cones and laughing at the small children playing in the grass with their parents watching on.

  “Tell Harrison I’m bringing the kids over this weekend to hang out with their new cousin,” she said as she dropped me at his front door.

  “I will.”

  “It was nice, this. I hope we can do it again. Often.”

  “Me too.”

  I climbed out of the car and let myself into the house, a smile glued to my lips. I’d half hoped that Harrison and JT would be home before me, but the house was quiet as I made my way to the sitting room. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to Harrison when I saw him again, but Libby’s opinions had bolstered my courage once more. I was thinking I might have another go at asking him about his feelings for me, I just might do it a little more diligently this time.

  I curled up on the couch and was about to take my sketchbook out to finish the sketch I’d started at the restaurant when I heard something shatter on the other side of the house. Fear shot through me. I knew Harrison didn’t have any pets and no one else was here. Or, no one else was supposed to be here. I got up slowly and tugged my cellphone out of my pocket, ready to dial 911 the moment it was necessary.

  I walked slowly down the hallway that led to the game room, Harrison’s study, and the guest bedroom where JT was staying. All the doors were closed except for the one to the game room. It stood wide open even though I distinctly remembered closing it just before the taxi arrived this morning.

  “Whoever’s in there, I’ve called the police. You’d better go before they get here,” I called, trying to sound as brave as I could despite my shaking knees.

  There was another sound—like something falling—and then silence.

  I ran my thumb over the screen of my phone, bringing up the dial pad. My thumb hovered over the 9 when Randy suddenly appeared in the doorway.

  “Hey, Penelope,” he said, his charming smile a little less confident than it’d been the night before.

  “Randy?”

  “I was just…” He gestured behind him, his cheeks a little pale as he chewed his bottom lip and tried to think of a good excuse for being there.

  “You were stealing the game systems.”

  “I was looking for something that might be worth more than a couple of bucks.” He focused on me again. “Harrison wouldn’t give me money if I asked for it. And my mother’s money all comes through him, so he would notice if she gave me any.”

  “You must be pretty desperate if you’d steal from your own brother.”

  To his credit, a little shame burned in Randy’s eyes as he regarded me.

  “You don’t know anything about me,” he said, his spine stiffening as he glanced behind him again. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

  “No, I don’t. But I can’t stand here and let you walk off with any of Harrison’s things, either.”

  He held up his hands. “I don’t got nothing.”

  “You should probably go, then.”

  “Will you tell him I was here?”

  I remembered what Libby had said about Harrison being the only one who could step up in this family and take responsibility for the mess his father left behind. That meant Randy and his problems, too. I imagined it hadn’t been an easy time for any of them. And I didn’t see any point in adding to that burden.

  “No. But you have to leave now, before he gets home.”

  “Of course.”

  Randy immediately came down the hall toward me, that charming smile back.

  “Did I ever tell you about the time Harrison dyed his hair green?”

  He had. That’s all he’d talked about last night at dinner, all the wild and crazy things Harrison had done in his teens. Randy was full of stories and I’d enjoyed all of them.

  “Why don’t you tell me about it the next time we see each other.”

  Randy nodded. “My mother said I could stay with her for a while. Maybe I’ll do that.”

  “Good.”

  We turned the corner into the entryway. Randy turned to me and gave me a big hug.

  “Thanks,” he said against my ear. “I won’t forget this.”

  And that was the moment Harrison and JT chose to come bursting through the door.

  Chapter 26

  Harrison

  “Hey, Harrison,” Randy said, turning to me with a sheepish look in his eye that was all too familiar. “How you doing?”

  His arm was still around Penelope. I wanted to rip it off. Not just off her shoulders, but off his body. I wanted to rip him to shreds for daring to come into my house and touch the woman I loved.

  And that look on her face…so much guilt.

  Did I really need to ask what was going on?

  “Get out of my house, Randy.”

  I said it quite calmly, my voice very steady. Randy simply nodded, the light going out of his smile. He leaned into Penelope and whispered something I wasn’t meant to hear. Then he held his fist out to JT.

  “Good to see you again, little nephew.”

  “You too,” JT said, clearly confused.

  Randy just nodded, his gaze moving over me before he brushed past me and walked out of the house.

  Penelope just watched him go. Apparently she had nothing to say to either her lover or to me. And I really didn’t want to look at her anymore. I stormed past JT’s chair and went to the stairs, the sound of her calling after me not enough to even slow my step.

  I burst into my bedroom, the doors vibrating as they bounced off the walls. I didn’t care. I went to the small balcony that looked out over the front of the house and stood at the railing, barely seeing the scene below me for the memory of Randy’s arm around Penelope’s shoulders.

  “I don’t know what you think was happening down there, but it wasn’t anything nefarious.”

  I hadn’t heard her come into the room.

  I gripped the railing harder, holding on to it so that I wouldn’t spin around and wrap them around her throat. I was so angry in that moment that I might have done it. But then, just touching her…I held on to that railing with all I had.

  “He was in the house when I g
ot here. I didn’t invite him.”

  “But you didn’t throw him out, either.”

  “That’s what I was doing.”

  “It didn’t look that way to me.”

  “Then you weren’t looking close enough. I mean, honestly, you’ve got to be the blindest guy in the whole fucking country.”

  I don’t know what shocked me more: her calling me blind, or her cussing. I’d never heard her use a word quite like that before.

  I turned and found her standing just inside the bedroom, the sight of my huge king sized bed behind her was enough to ignite a few thoughts that my anger did nothing to dampen. In fact, the anger might have made it worse, might have made me want to do things I might not have considered under different circumstances. Not with Penelope, anyway.

  “You told me I was the only woman you wanted,” she said softly. “Did you mean that?”

  “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

  A slow smile touched her lips. “Yeah? You said last night you’re not the jealous type. But you’re sure acting awfully jealous right now.”

  “I’m not jealous.”

  “Then what is this? Why are you so angry with me?” She cocked her head slightly, that smile spreading. “Tell me this isn’t about the way your brother was touching me.”

  I crossed the small space between us before I even realized I was moving. I grabbed her upper arms and pulled her hard against my chest.

  “Tell me he wasn’t here to see you. That he wasn’t flirting with you last night.”

  “He wasn’t. He talked about you all night.”

  “Liar.”

  She shook her head, her hand coming up to press itself against my chest. “He told me about the time you dyed your hair, the time you got caught drinking at some high school party. He told me about the tattoos on your wrists, about the one on your chest, told me how the two of you went together to get that one because you knew your father would hate it.”

  I squeezed her arms until I saw pain in her eyes. “Why was he here?”