Doozy shifted and gave me a long, hard look.
"I guess maybe he wasn't calling it Ivy for your grandmother, was he?"
I shook my head, my heart still hammering in my chest. "No sir, I don't think he was."
"Does your dad know you've been talking to him?"
"I haven't. We haven't talked to each other since he came here a year ago. There was a note, and… it's a long story. There was a misunderstanding, and I didn't know it was him who… but it all makes sense. It really does. It makes so much sense now."
"I don't know if I've ever seen you grinning like this, Ivy."
"You haven't," I said. "I'm pretty sure you haven't."
"So, you really like this young man?"
I hesitated, because I wasn't sure what words I could say to convey how very much I did. "So much," I said, hoping that was enough.
"Well, for what it's worth, he's an extremely determined person. Randall called your father after he won to tell us we had made the right decision—he said the boy's really gifted. I knew someone special had made those designs. I don't know if I've seen that kind of creativity and ingenuity in a design since…"
"Yours?" I guessed.
He laughed. "That's what I was thinking, but then I realized how bad it sounded for me to say that. I was trying to pay him a compliment, not myself."
I reached out and hugged my grandfather, and he hugged me back. "Comparing him to you, Dooz, is the biggest compliment he could ever get."
"What do you want, you precious angel?" he asked in a cooing tone, like he was about to get out his checkbook and buy me the whole world if I asked for it.
I laughed. "I really do just want him to get here," I said since it was honestly the only thing on my mind.
He shrugged. "Well, call him and tell him his plane ticket's on the company. Your mama's probably got a company card in her wallet. Just ask her for it, and pay for his ticket on that."
Chapter 14
I got a call from Luke two hours later.
It was nearly nine o'clock my time, which meant it was just about three in the morning in London. The later it got, the more I thought he wouldn't call, but my phone finally rang.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hey," he said.
"You sound tired."
"I am. I'm sorry that took so long. I was depending on someone else for a ride, and we ended up having to go half-way across London to take home his… anyway, I avoided killing him and finally made it back to my place. I'm here now."
I wished I was sitting right next to him. "You probably need to get some rest," I said. I wanted him to insist that he didn't need rest and tell me that he was leaving for the airport momentarily.
"I searched flights from my phone while we were driving around," he said.
I bit my lip, feeling so excited. "And?"
"There are tons of options," he said. "I mean, there's a flight leaving like every two hours or so. Did you think you wanted me to come as early as tomorrow? I guess that's technically today since it's morning over here."
"Luke."
"What?"
"Please get here as fast as you can."
"I'm looking at it right now. It seems like the absolute earliest one would be getting into Memphis about five o'clock tomorrow afternoon. That one leaves in just a few hours. I think that would give me time to pack a few things and get out the door."
"Please take it. Is that the earliest?"
"There's one that gets me there a couple hours earlier, but it's like double the price, and I didn't—"
"I'm paying. We're paying. Doozy is. He said he'd pay. I was gonna tell you that. I have the company credit card right here. I was actually gonna ask if I could just call and make the reservation for you. Would the one that gets here earlier still give you enough time to get to the airport?"
"That one actually doesn't leave until 7am. It's got one stop instead of two. It gives me an extra hour on my end."
"Okay, that's the one I'll get. Just take a screen shot of it and send it to me. I'll take care of paying for it."
It was quiet on the other end.
"Luke?"
"I don't know when to get the return flight. We haven't talked about that. Everything's just so fast that…"
He trailed off, and my heart dropped.
"However long you want," I said. "Three days, five days, forever."
I heard him let out a little laugh. "What do you think?"
"I think you already know what I think," I said.
"What?"
"Luke, I really don't care. I'm just trying to get you here. I'll worry about talking you into staying later. As far as I'm concerned, you can get a one-way."
Again, he paused, thinking.
The silence was deafening.
"Just get a one-way," he said finally. "It'll be cheaper that way, and I can just buy the one-way back after I have time to figure out what day."
"You want to stay," I said, grinning.
"First, I have to get there," he said.
"Okay, I'm hanging up. Text me with that flight information, and I'll buy your ticket right now."
"Ivy?"
"What?"
"Never mind."
"What?" I said.
"Nothing."
"Tell me."
"Nothing. I'm just tired. I was just wondering… it crossed my mind to wonder… what if I get there, and things aren't what you expected? I mean, so much time has passed. What if I look different than you thought? What if you feel differently about—"
"What if you feel differently about me?" I asked. "What if you see me and you don't like me anymore?"
"That's not possible," he said.
"That's how I feel about you," I said. "Please just get off the phone with me so I can buy the ticket and you can get here. Then I can show you what I'm talking about."
He laughed. "Okay," he said.
I purchased a one-way ticket for Luke.
I was in constant contact with him until we got it squared away. I had to have more information than just his name to reserve the tickets, so I called him back and he stayed on the phone with me while I dealt with the airline from the house phone.
I could hardly sleep that night knowing that he was on his way. I took out his letter and read it again. I was full of joy, knowing in my heart that the man who penned those words was the man intended for me. He was the one who had been chosen for me, there was no doubt in my mind.
The following day was Saturday, so there was no tutoring at the nonprofit. It was open from 10-2 for students who wanted to come in and study on their own or just needed a place to hang out. I had one other person there with me, so I left a little early and asked them to lock up.
I still had a couple of months to go at my parents' house while my own place was being completed. My mom was home when I got there, and we talked while I changed and freshened up. I hadn't yet clued in my mother on how very much I knew I loved Luke, but she could tell something was different with me. It was evident by the way she looked at me that she could tell I was a woman in love—it was almost as if she sympathized with me over it. Or maybe she just looked nostalgic because now all of her children had found their match. Either way, I could tell she knew how I felt even without me saying it.
I started to leave in such haste that I was about to pick him up on a motorcycle without any way to carry his bags. It was still early spring, but the day was warm enough to ride, and I was definitely in the mood.
"Why don't you let me follow you up there," Mom suggested. "I'll wait in the car and take his bags so y'all can ride the bike."
I took my mom up on her offer, and she followed me to the airport. I half expected her to want to come in. I thought I might have to break it to her that I wanted to greet Luke on my own, but it that wasn't necessary. She voluntarily remained in the car while I went inside.
Okay, so maybe I was a little impatient.
His flight was scheduled to arrive at 3:09 and I glanced at my phon
e when I made it to baggage claim, and it was 2:36. I sent my mom a text telling her I was sorry she had to wait so long, and she texted me back saying that I shouldn't worry about it, and that she was taking care of a few emails while she was sitting there.
I found a spot on a bench and fished a pair of earbuds out of my purse so that I could listen to music. I turned on a playlist with classics by Chuck Berry, Elvis, Etta James, Roy Orbison, Muddy Waters, Otis Redding, and of course there were a few songs on there by my Shug. I zoned out, getting lost in the music while I waited. I had Wes's new album on my Spotify, too, but I had already worn that out, and I was in the mood for blues classics, anyway. They always calmed me down.
At the moment, I happened to be listening to one that got me pumped instead of calming me down. It was Something's Got a Hold on Me by Etta James.
On this day, I happened to really identify with the lyrics, and I couldn’t help myself from boogying to the music as I sat there on that bench. It started with simple facial expressions as I sang along—mouthing the words. I closed my eyes and listened to her belt out the passionate lyrics.
Oh, oh, sometimes I get a good feeling, yeah.
(yeah)
I get a feeling that I never, never, never, never, had before, no no.
(yeah)
I just wanna tell you right now that, uh, (oooh)
I believe, I really do believe, that…
Something's got a hold on me, yeah.
(Oh, it must be love.)
Oh, something's got a hold on me right now, child.
(Oh, it must be love.)
Let me tell you now,
I've got a feeling,
I feel so strange,
Everything about me seems to have changed,
Step-by-step, I got a brand-new walk,
I even sound sweeter when I talk.
I said, oh, (oh), oh, (oh), oh, (oh), oh! (oh),
Hey, hey, yeah.
Oh, it must be love.
Let me tell you now,
Something's got a hold on me…
I was really into this song—so into it, that my simple facial expressions and lyric-mouthing had turned into more complex gestures. I had added toe and finger tapping, along with seat-shifting, and who knows what other wiggling and jiggling.
Etta James was passionate, and I knew every word and every beat of the song by heart. This, combined with the fact that I really and truly identified with these lyrics at the moment made it impossible for me to keep still.
It was somewhere near the end of the song when I felt two hands touch my shoulders. I jumped and gasped, and opened my eyes in utter shock, the earbuds flying out of my ears in the process.
Luke.
It was Luke.
He had touched me.
He was standing right in front of me, smiling sweetly, his dark eyes squinting with pure pleasure as he stared down at me. I jumped up, springing into his arms with no hesitation whatsoever, and he caught me, his chest vibrating with laughter at how quickly I had bolted out of my seat.
"I think your phone fell," he said.
"I don't care," I said, squeezing him tightly.
It was Luke. He was here. He had come for me. He was in Memphis, and he had come here for me—not to see his sister, or to build a motorcycle, but for me. I held onto him so tightly that I felt like our energy literally became one, our breathing fell into sync—like our bodies partially melted together as we were standing there.
Aside from that little glance when I first opened my eyes, I hadn't even seen his face. I knew, just from that quick scan, that he was everything I was expecting and more. He was even more handsome than I remembered. He was more of a man, too. I could even feel it by hugging him. He was thick and broad-chested, and this year that we had spent apart had done nothing but make him even more irresistible than he was before. I was smitten right down to my bones. My knees were weak, and I felt like I could just melt into his arms.
"What in the world were you listening to, Ivy?" he asked, without looking at me.
"Etta James," I said. "Why? Was I dancing?"
"Yes. I was watching you the whole way down the escalator. I kept thinking you'd open your eyes and look at me."
"You probably thought, 'who's that crazy girl, sitting there with her eyes closed'."
"I was actually thinking that you are the most beautiful, precious thing I have ever seen in my life. I can't think of a single person who could possibly look so lovely, sitting on a bench and wiggling around to music that only she could hear."
"Lovely," I said. "I like that word."
"You are lovely, Ivy."
I glanced up, but we were so close and he was so tall that all I could see was his neck. He was wearing a button-down shirt layered with a light jacket, and I loved how handsome and sharp he looked. He smelled clean and masculine just like I remembered, and my stomach clinched at the feeling of his arms around me.
He began to move, pulling back so that he could look down at me. I was in his arms. We were right up against each other. I was here—finally here, touching him. I could barely breathe.
I looked straight at his mouth, that mouth, the one with the gorgeous upper lip that came out over the bottom one. There it was, right in front of me, begging to be kissed. Only now I didn't have to be shy to look at it—now I could shamelessly check him out.
I peeled my arm away from his side and slid it between us so that I could reach up and touch him. Slowly, I brought my hand to his face, letting my fingertips touch his jaw before running up his cheek. I couldn’t help it. I let my thumb touch the edge of his mouth—it was just that irresistible. I stood there and stared at him, and he did the same to me. We just gawked at each other as if we were the only two people in the airport.
Chapter 15
My heart was still pounding from Luke's shocking appearance. It probably wasn't only the shock of having him sneak up on me with my eyes closed. It was everything—having him here, being in his arms, and realizing that he was even better (more handsome, sweet, and wonderful) than I recalled.
"I didn't know your flight got here," I said, staring at him.
He grinned. "I know. I saw you not see me."
"I was listening to Etta James."
"I didn't mean to scare you."
"I can't believe you're here."
"You're the one who invited me," he said.
"I know, and you came." I smiled shyly. "You picked up and left London when I called."
"And I would do it again," he said, scanning my face. "I wish I could have gotten here sooner."
My fingertips were still lightly touching the side of his face. There was stubble on his jaw, and I loved the feel of it shifting, so I gently and slowly flexed my fingers.
"Luke." I didn't mean for it to, but my voice came out like a desperate whisper.
"Ivy," he said, answering me and holding me even more tightly around my waist.
"Your letter," I said.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. "That old thing?" he asked, casually.
I shook my head. "You have no idea what it meant. So much has happened to me since then—being okay with the breakup, and then the nonprofit and the house. I can't help but feel like I owe… I'm just so thankful for those things you wrote. They inspired me—they made me feel capable and worthy."
"You are capable and worthy, Ivy. It's almost kind of surreal for me to hear that my note somehow helped you see that. I thought I was being redundant when I wrote it. I almost didn’t leave it."
My heart fell when he said that. In those split seconds, I imagined what it would have been like had I not found the note that morning. I imagined how differently things could've turned out. I realized I wouldn't be standing with him in this moment, and that was just completely unacceptable. I shivered at the thought of it, and he smiled and held me closer.
I repositioned my hands, holding him tightly around his waist again and snuggling even closer.
"You cold?"
"No. But if I say I am, will you kiss me?"
He grinned "You don't have to say that to get me to kiss you. You don't have to say anything."
We stood there, staring at each other. People were bustling about, getting their luggage, and walking past us. We didn't flinch. It was as if no one was even there. He looked a little different than I remembered—and in all the right ways. He was more of a man. I innately felt like he was able to care for me—protect me.
"Why aren't you doing it, then?" I whispered.
"Doing what?"
"Kissing me."
He scanned my face. "Ivy, am I awake right now? Am I even alive? This doesn't seem real."
I gave him a little nod. "Kiss me and find out." And just like that, he leaned down, closing the gap between our mouths, and letting his gorgeous, full lips fall gently onto mine.
Electricity.
My insides experienced a warm, zapping sensation that made my toes curl and my fists clinch. I stretched up, leaning into him. My knees were so weak, that I depended on him to help hold me up. His mouth tasted just like I thought it would. It was soft and warm, and his lips found their home on mine two, three, five, seven times, all with great tenderness. After what must have been ten soft kisses, Luke pulled back reluctantly, straightening his shoulders and staring off to the side as if he couldn’t bear to do it again.
"I missed you," I said, squeezing him and wanting desperately to kiss him again.
"Ivy."
"What?"
He stared at me like he was searching for the right words. "I'm a man."
I grinned. "I know."
He looked at me thoughtfully as his chest rose and fell with gentle breaths. "And I think I might be more in love with you than any man has ever been with any woman. Ever."
Those words, coming out of his mouth, caused another wave of warm desire to wash over me. I squeezed my eyes shut tight for a second before looking at him again. "What's so wrong with that?" I whispered once I opened them.
Something Lovely (Bishop Family Book 9) Page 10
