Something Lovely (Bishop Family Book 9)

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Something Lovely (Bishop Family Book 9) Page 12

by Brooke St. James


  "I'm sorry," I said. "You must be exhausted, and I'm running you all around town, making you drive me around and visit with my family."

  I led our hands downward, but I kept them clasped with his, stepping even closer to him.

  "Ivy, I’m not saying that so you'll apologize. I'm just saying… the job… and talking to your grandfather… and you… it's all so… I honestly feel like I'm dreaming. I have the feeling I'm gonna wake up in my own flat, and this will all have been just a—"

  I stopped him by repositioning a little. I gently wrapped my arms around his waist. "You're not dreaming," I whispered. "You're here. In America. With me."

  He cupped his hands around my cheeks. "Say it again," he said softly.

  "You're not dreaming," I said. "You're here. Right here in my arms. You're about to eat my mom's tacos, and then we're gonna go down the street so you can see my house." I really almost said "our house", but I managed to stop myself.

  "And the job?" he asked.

  "Doozy basically begged you to take it," I said. "He loves you. I can't believe how much he loves you."

  Luke nodded. "Okay, so, I'm not gonna wake up in London?"

  I shook my head, smiling at him. "Nope."

  Chapter 17

  Owen and Darcy came over to eat tacos with us. They brought the twins, of course, and their dog, Henry, who loved to roam around in my parents' backyard. Daniel and Courtney would have come as well, but she had an event going on at the art center, and she ended up taking the whole family.

  Owen was a protective older brother, and he could see how much I liked Luke, so he had question after question for him. He was also my only brother who had worked at the family business his whole life, so eventually, his personal questions turned to motorcycle talk. Just as he did with Doozy, Luke won Owen over with his knowledge, love, and passion for motorcycles. Before I knew it, Owen and Dad were both asking Luke questions that I didn't even understand about fabricating parts and various tools.

  Sometime during all that motorcycle talk, Owen brought up the subject of knife throwing. Luke asked if any of us had been practicing, and we all admitted that we weren’t nearly as disciplined about it as we once had been. I told him I had gotten pretty decent at it for a while, but I had been so busy with work during the past six-months or so that I had scarcely even picked up a knife. Dad said he went out to the target and threw "every once in a while".

  Then, Mom asked Luke if he still practiced, and his answer surprised me.

  "Yes ma'am, I kind of have to. Jolene roped me into posting on her YouTube channel while she's traveling with Wes."

  My head whipped around to stare at Luke when he said that. I had no idea.

  My mom appeared to be as surprised as I was. "Oh, so you've been making videos?" she asked.

  Luke nodded. "Jo didn't want her channel to be idle while she's traveling, so she asked me to post for her. My mom helps me with the filming and editing and everything. I don't know much about that stuff, and honestly, I don't really have the desire to learn. I just practice enough knife throwing to make her subscribers think I know what I'm talking about. I have to think of about five-minutes of material to post once a week. My mom does the rest. She bought a fancy computer, and she's gotten pretty good at it." He shrugged. "Jolene's not picky as long as something's getting posted."

  "So, you've been practicing," I said. "Basically, you've gotten a lot better while all of us have been slacking off."

  Luke laughed. "I don't know if I have gotten a lot better, but yes, I have been practicing."

  "I guess we need to go outside and see the fruits of your labor," Owen said.

  I looked at him sideways, wondering if he was challenging Luke, and he just smiled at me. "I'm going out there, anyway," he said. "We have to be getting home, and I need to check on Henry and make sure he didn't get too muddy to ride in the Tahoe."

  "I'll throw some with y'all, if you want to," Dad said.

  Before I knew what was happening, everyone was going outside. I had to use the restroom, so I promised I'd meet them out there in a minute.

  It's funny how much internet research you can do in two minutes, from your phone, in the restroom. I went to YouTube, found Jolene's channel, and clicked on the most recent video "she" had posted.

  There he was, in all his handsome glory.

  I pressed play and then almost panicked when the video began playing and I realized my phone was turned all the way up. His voice came over the speaker loudly, and I quickly muted it, looking around to make sure I hadn't been caught even though I was in the bathroom by myself.

  I turned it up just loud enough to hear what he was saying, and I concentrated on the screen. He was confident and matter of fact as he told about the technique he was practicing in the video. It was something about proper thumb grip. I knew I didn't have much time, so I only watched the first thirty seconds or so, but it was enough to give me that achy feeling in my gut. I desired him more than I had ever desired anyone. I wanted him to just come out and say that he would be mine—that he would always be mine, always and forever.

  I couldn't just sit there and watch the rest of the video, though. That would be crazy when I could go out there and see him throw knives in person. Before I closed the browser, I used my thumb to scroll down. The video was posted four days ago, and it already had over a hundred thousand views.

  How does a knife throwing video get so many views? And one about proper thumb grip at that.

  There were eight thousand comments.

  What in the world?

  I had to look.

  The first few were vague things like "Thanks," or "Nice video." A few of them were long with lots of knife throwing jargon, and I just scanned them without really reading. After scrolling past what must have been ten or fifteen or so comments, I got to one that said, "You're hot," and then another that said, "Bae," and then even further, I saw, "Marry me, pleeeeease!!!!"

  Those lovey-dovey, infatuated feelings I was experiencing quickly turned to some crazy odd mixture of jealousy and pride. I knew girls had been crazy about Derek, but I had never been this jealous over him.

  I had only looked at the first page of comments. What in the world would I have seen if I had looked at all eight-thousand of them? Why were so many girls subscribed to Jolene's channel, anyway?

  There was no time to care.

  I turned off my phone and slipped it into my pocket.

  "Did you throw yet?" I asked when I stepped outside. Everyone was standing around, but I was looking at Luke when I said it, so he was the one who answered.

  He shook his head, and I went to stand next to him. After watching that video, I felt like I wanted to claim him in some way—announce to my family in some grand proclamation that we were officially together. I settled for standing next to him. I stood close enough to bump his arm with my shoulder, and he looked at me with a smile.

  Owen had taken a turn at the target, and he came over to Luke, holding the knives out for him. Luke took them from my brother, but he promptly offered them to me. He didn't say anything, he just looked at me with his eyebrows raised as if to ask if I wanted them.

  I shook my head, and he took that as his queue. He went to stand at the ten-foot line and squared up with the target, taking a deep breath.

  Darcy had Cole on her hip, and my dad was holding Colin. Luke glanced at Henry who was sitting on his haunches next to Darcy. He proceeded to do something I'd never seen. He threw all ten knives, one after the other. He didn't go for speed or showmanship. He was calm and collected, aiming carefully before he let each of them fly through the air.

  I didn't realize what he was doing until he was almost finished. It was a heart. He threw the ten knives, and the final result was ten knives sticking out of the target in the obvious shape of a heart.

  It was the most magical thing I had ever seen.

  I was stunned.

  "Is that a heart?" Darcy asked in an amazed tone.

  "Oh, my goodness,
it is!" Mom said, stepping forward to get a closer look at the target. "That's amazing! How'd you learn to do that?"

  Luke smiled and shook his head. "You can thank my sister," he said. "I told her if she wanted help with her channel she had to give me ideas, and she came up with that one for Valentine's Day."

  "I bet you could do any shape, though," Mom said.

  Luke nodded as he went to pull the knives from the board. "Yes ma'am. I just have more practice at a heart."

  He joined us on the side, holding out the knives for me.

  I shook my head. "I'm not following that," I said, smiling at him.

  "Me neither," Dad said.

  "Don't look at me," Darcy added.

  "We need to go anyway," Owen said. "That was awesome, though." He glanced at our mom. "Thanks for dinner."

  "We need to go, too," I said. "I want to bring Luke to the house before it's too dark to see anything."

  We could have walked to my house, but we took my car instead. It would have taken ten minutes for us to get there had we walked, and we were quickly losing sunlight. The exterior was almost completely done, except for some finishing touches. The painters had been there a week before, and after the Hardie Board got some color, it really started to feel like home.

  "Oh, Ivy, it's amazing!" Luke said, as we pulled into the driveway. "I can't believe this is yours!"

  "Thank you. I love it. I can't believe it either. When it's not so dark out, you can see the blue better."

  "I can see it just fine," he said, getting out of the car.

  I grabbed his hand on the way inside. "Do you like it?" I asked, holding onto his arm.

  He shifted to look down at me. "Are you kidding? I love it. It's so beautiful. I love the property, too. I can't believe you have woods."

  "What about the blue?" I asked. "Do you think it's a good shade?"

  "It's perfect. You did so good."

  We slowly made our way onto the porch and through the front door. Luke looked at all the details, mentioning things he liked as we meandered. He asked a ton of questions—big, obvious things like how many bedrooms and how many square feet, and little things like whether my stove was gas or electric and what kind of knobs I was going to put on the doors. I showed him some of my favorite features, and I loved how enthusiastic he was about everything.

  It had gotten pretty dark in the house as I showed him around. I had a couple of lanterns, but rather than continue walking around in the dark, I pulled him onto the back porch. It was one of my absolute favorite places. I had always loved porches, so I built a big one. I adored being outside and I had always been drawn to porch swings. Plus, with the way my house was situated, my back porch had a beautiful view of the sunset.

  "You're kidding," he said in amazement, looking around when I led him out the back door. "This is really something."

  The porch was ten feet deep and thirty feet long. It was completely covered and had a wood rail, making it feel altogether cozy and wonderful. I knew I would spend a ton of time out there. I had a clearing for a backyard with a view of the woods that lined the other side. We could hear the sounds of nature as we stood there.

  "There's a fox," I said.

  "Where?"

  "He's not out there right now, but I do have one. The construction crew leaves their leftovers out by the tree line, and he comes to eat. He's huge. He's got a big ol' bushy tail."

  "You've seen him?" Luke asked.

  I nodded. I reached out for his hand, pulling him to the right side of the porch where I would eventually hang a swing. There were a few chairs sitting around, one of which was an extremely comfortable, heavy duty rocking chair. My mom had four or five of them, and she had Dad bring one over so I could begin to enjoy my porch.

  I led Luke to it, and without saying a word, got the point across to him that I wanted him to have a seat in it. He sat down, and I proceeded to sit on his lap, favoring one side, and letting my legs hang between his. He smiled and held onto me, adjusting his seating position so that we could both get comfortable. I leaned against his chest, falling into his embrace.

  "What do you think?" I asked. "Do you like it?"

  He rocked several times without saying a thing. He just sat there, holding onto me. I knew he had heard my question, so I didn't ask it again. I simply sat there and waited for him to answer.

  "Ivy, 'yes' isn't an adequate word. I started to say I love it, but that doesn't feel good enough, either. You've got a little piece of heaven here. I'm so happy for you, I really am. I can't believe this is yours."

  My head was resting in the crook of his neck, but I shifted so that I could stare at him. Our faces were only a few inches apart, and he continued to stare out at the view.

  "I wish you would share it with me," I said.

  This caused him to look at me.

  "I know you love me," I said.

  His gorgeous smile broadened. "How do you know?"

  "Because, I just do. You named your motorcycle after me. You called it the Ivy. Doozy told me."

  "He did?"

  I nodded.

  "What if that was for your grandma?"

  I squinted at him, and he smiled.

  "I saw your YouTube video," I said. "I watched a few seconds of one. I searched it when I went to the bathroom at Mom's."

  "Oh yeah? What'd you think?"

  "That you're the most handsome man I've ever seen and that I wanted the whole world to know you're mine."

  "All that from a video?" he asked.

  "Just a little piece of a video," I said.

  Luke shifted, faking like he was reaching for his pocket. "I've got my phone right here," he said, groaning as if he was actually trying for it, which he wasn't. "We should definitely watch some more."

  I laughed, relishing the feel of his body shifting as I leaned against him. "I don't need to watch any more." I said. "I'm already ate up with it."

  "With what?" he asked, relaxing again.

  "Smittenness."

  I rested my head on his chest, unashamedly curling up into his arms and snuggling against him. I expected him to say something about my variation of the word smitten, but he didn’t. He just held me, gently rocking in the chair.

  It was cool but not cold and the evening sun was peeking out from behind the trees. I breathed deeply. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment.

  Chapter 18

  Luke and I sat in that rocking chair, watching the sun disappear. I stared at the glowing orange ball moving downward behind the trees, and it went from dusk to night right before my eyes. For what must have been at least ten minutes, we sat there in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of nature—the wind, and the frogs and crickets.

  "Luke?" I whispered.

  "Huh?" the sound came from his chest, and he delivered it quickly as if he was somewhat surprised.

  "Were you sleeping?" I asked.

  "I don't think so," he said. "Just closing my eyes." His voice was even lower than usual, telling me that if he hadn't been sleeping, he was, at least, really tired. I sat up just enough to look at him.

  "You wanna head back to the house?" I asked.

  He shook his head slowly.

  "No? Why not?"

  "Because I'm too comfortable. If we go back, that means I have to let you go."

  I wriggled just a little with sheer pleasure, and that made him chuckle, causing his chest to shake. I stretched upward, placing a tender kiss on his neck, and then one further up, on his cheek.

  "Ivy."

  "What?" I whispered close to his ear.

  "Your family, their business, this legacy."

  "What about it?"

  "I knew it was something special. It was special to me before I even knew you." He spoke slowly and deliberately, and I relaxed in his arms, feeling comforted by his voice. "Jolene fell in love with Wes, and I got to come here and meet your family. It was all just so surreal. It was better to me than meeting the queen or the president. Seriously, if I had the choice of
meeting those people or meeting your family, I would definitely have chosen your family. I had this idea of you before we even met, before I even knew you. In my mind, you were royalty. Jolene was marrying into royalty. Even if you weren't so beautiful, you still would have been the heir to the Bishop name—you still would have had this awesome, magical place in my mind. I would have still wanted to impress you just based on your name alone."

  He paused, but I just sat in his lap, not knowing where he was going with all this.

  "But then I saw you, Ivy. I saw you with my own eyes, and you were so beautiful—really and truly the most precious thing I had ever seen—even more beautiful than your pictures. And I talked to you, and found out that you were funny, and kind, and compassionate, and determined, and somehow innocent yet really smart at the same time. You turned out to be this amazing jewel, this amazing prize, and it had nothing to do with your family. You were wonderful on your own—you were brilliant without your name. I would have fallen in love with you even if you weren't a Bishop. You are altogether lovely, Ivy, and it has nothing to do with your family." He took a deep breath. "And then, I remember that you're a Bishop, and that's what makes me feel like this whole thing is a dream. It truly feels like it can't be real. I'm holding you in my arms, and I still can't help but doubt it. I haven't done anything to deserve this, yet here I am."

  I kissed him again. I let my mouth fall gently onto his cheek and I held it there, letting it linger. I tasted his skin—felt the texture of his smooth cheek under my lips. I moved to speak near his ear.

  "I don’t feel like I deserve you, either, Luke. I remembered the picture of you with that girl, the redhead—the one you showed me when you first came here. I thought you would still be with her. I called you thinking I was gonna have to do something desperate and try to break up some happy relationship. I called, and you answered, and you weren't with her anymore. I didn't even have to get desperate and break y'all up. And now here you are—throwing knives into heart shapes and impressing my family with all your amazingness. You're the handsome prince who wrote me the magical letter, and you dropped everything and left London to come to me."

 

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