This Loving Feeling (A Mirror Lake Novel)

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This Loving Feeling (A Mirror Lake Novel) Page 18

by Miranda Liasson


  He looked up to see Samantha standing next to her grandmother and Ben. What was she doing here? Certain as stink on a skunk, if she knew he’d be here, she wouldn’t have come. He caught Effie’s eye and she immediately glanced away. Well, that explained that.

  Sam never returned that night after the kiss, leaving him to toss and turn, awakening to every stray creak and groan that might have been her car motoring up the road, or the garage door opening.

  She’d been in school every day, and in the evenings she came over to the guesthouse to see Stevie but avoided talking to Lukas as much as possible.

  Every night since, he lay awake, giving himself plenty of time to think about that kiss. That fabulous, inevitable kiss he’d felt right down to his bones. He knew, no matter how much logic kept them apart, he couldn’t deny it any longer: he wanted her, and it was time they talked about it. Resolved, he tucked the sunblock into his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and followed after Mrs. P.

  “Love your fanny pack,” Sam was saying to Effie, whose pink sneakers matched her ball cap. Love your fanny, too, Lukas thought, and other assets as he checked out Sam’s dark green shorts and red tank top, her hair piled atop her head in that artsy way that was meant to look messy and was sexy as hell. Just seeing her released a sweet flood of yearning everywhere. It was going to be a long afternoon. Especially if she refused to talk to him.

  “It’s got my crocheting,” Effie said.

  Ben shared a look with Sam. “You brought your crocheting on a hike, Ef?”

  “I figured if I got tired I could stop for a while and not be bored.” Effie turned at the sound of crunching gravel. “Hello, Lukas dear, and Alethea.”

  Sam saw Lukas and stiffened. The look she aimed at him practically drew blood, but if he could handle Stevie, he could stay cool through this, too. “Samantha,” he said, smiling pleasantly.

  “I—didn’t know you were coming,” she said with a smile as fake as Alethea’s hair color. Her gaze drifted to Effie.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I must have forgotten to mention it. Getting old’s a bitch, you know?” She tapped her temple with an index finger. “The memory’s the first to go.”

  “That’s not going to be the only thing that will be going,” Sam mumbled.

  “Lukas,” Effie said, pointing to his bottom half. “I love those—what do you call them?—cargo shorts.”

  Sam gave him the once over. Her gaze told him she liked what she saw despite herself. Which made him feel better about that kiss. Like, it might be possible, despite her involvement with he-who-shall-not-be-named, that she might just want to kiss him again.

  He had to stop himself from getting too close to her for fear that he might just run his hand along the soft skin of her inner arm, or press his lips against the warmth of her beautiful neck, which he’d have perfect access to with her hair swept up like that.

  Anyway. “I need the pockets for all this stuff I have to carry.”

  “What stuff?” Sam asked.

  He pulled out keys, a juice box, a purse-size bottle of hand sanitizer, and a penknife. Stevie’s inhaler and travel-size suntan lotion followed.

  Sam eyed Lukas’s pockets. “There’s something else in there,” she said.

  “It’s nothing,” he said.

  “No, it’s round and hard.” She touched it through his pocket. “What is it—a compass?”

  “Don’t get fresh.”

  “I’d like to get fresh,” Alethea said. “Not with you, specifically, Lukas, even though you are hot stuff, but in general.”

  “Mrs. P.!” Sam said, a little appalled. She pried out a compact mirror.

  “Why would you bring that with you?” Ben asked, chuckling. “For zit cover-up on the trail?”

  “If you must know, it’s to signal the plane in case we get lost.”

  “Why not just bring a cell phone?” Ben asked.

  “I have that too,” Lukas said. “But just in case there’s no reception in the woods.”

  “You’re such a girl,” Ben said jokingly.

  “Shut up, Ben,” Sam said. “You might be good at doctor emergencies but what did you show up with today, huh?”

  Ben shot her an older-brother look and tapped his temple. “I’m resourceful, babe. Like Survivorman.”

  “Now, dear, don’t be cocky,” Effie said, turning to Lukas. “I like the camo backpack, too,” she said with a wink. “Very stylish.”

  “What’s in there, hot stuff?” Sam asked, pointing to his backpack.

  “Bug spray, more juice boxes, fish crackers, a first aid kit, and an extra pair of Batman undies.”

  “Wow. Prepared for every emergency. I like that,” Sam said.

  “My middle name is prepared.” He was glad she was impressed. Little did she know that’s what you tended to do when all you remembered of your childhood was chaos.

  “Nice camera, too,” she said, checking out his eighty-to-two-hundred zoom lens.

  He shrugged. “I want Stevie to have lots of great memories to replace the bad ones.”

  His comment seemed to strike her. Her eyes softened, and she gave him a look like she really didn’t hate him at all. He sure didn’t hate her, either. There he went again, staring at her too long, so long she blushed. It was just how cute she looked in those hiking boots and those little shorts, and how great her rack looked in that tank top. If they slept together, all of this longing would go away. Wouldn’t it?

  As they set off on the path, the boys scrambled up a rock and Lukas took pics of them posing at the top, biceps flexed. They ran around and pretended to shoot each other and blow things up, just like a million boys did every day. Only for him, every burst of mischievous laughter was a revelation. That Stevie had a buddy to run around and play with. That the sadness that was so much a part of him when he first came to be with Lukas had lifted. He had Sam to thank for a lot of that.

  As they walked, he pretended to take pics of everyone and everything, like the trees and the play of light in the woods, but every chance he got, he snuck shots of Sam as she joked with the boys or helped her grandma or talked thoughtfully with Ben.

  “So, dear,” Effie said, suddenly beside him. Alethea miraculously appeared on his other side. “Tell me about your family. Alethea tells us you’re planning to reunite your brothers.”

  Lukas frowned at Alethea, but she was suddenly very busy examining the ground. “My brothers and I haven’t been together since I was ten.”

  “Stevie’s father is addicted to drugs,” Alethea whispered.

  So much for keeping that a secret.

  “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry,” Effie said. Lukas was, too—especially knowing how quickly that news would fly around to Brad and the brothers. Another piece of ammo to use against him.

  “What about your other brothers?” Alethea asked innocently.

  He shook his head. “Last I heard, Roman was in New York working for a craft beer company. I don’t know where my two younger brothers are.”

  “So are you going to find them?” Alethea asked.

  “Well, with our history—”

  “The bonds of family can’t ever be broken,” Alethea said. “Maybe you were meant to use your success to bring your family back together.”

  Lukas almost snorted. He could barely remember when they were a family. And that was probably a good thing. Not many pleasant memories on that front, at least as far as his parents were concerned.

  Except he had loved his brothers. He’d made a big effort to stay in contact at the beginning. Nico never had himself together enough to be an oldest brother, so Lukas had stepped into that role, doing his best to care for his younger brothers, but circumstances made it impossible.

  Some elemental pang of nostalgia hit him . . . building snow forts. Playing catch. Trying to help Roman with homework and having Drew, who must’ve been all of six at the time, correct him. All of them scraping money together one Christmas to make sure their youngest brother, Jared, got a bike from Santa. Luka
s had tried to shield his brothers from the drunken wrath of their parents, but it wasn’t good enough. He should have done better. Maybe that was why he often avoided thinking about what became of everyone. He’d failed to keep them all together, and now they were scattered far and wide like dandelion seeds.

  The boys suddenly ran toward them from up ahead. “Come see this cool lizard we just found!” The ladies and Ben went ahead, but Sam surprisingly hung back with Lukas. He took a picture of her as she walked at his side, protesting for him not to take it. He wanted to capture every quirk of a smile, every frown, every expression on her face. So he could remember. Okay, that was a little stalkerish. But still, he couldn’t help it.

  Her hand pressed lightly on his arm, and he realized she was touching his nicotine patch. “How’s kicking the habit going?”

  “Haven’t touched a cigarette for twelve days. But who’s counting.”

  “Nice.”

  Effie called back from the front of the group, “When my friend Gloria stopped smoking, she gained thirty pounds. Did quitting give you a sweet tooth, dear?”

  “Can’t say it has,” he said to Effie. Then he lowered his voice so only Sam could hear. “I crave another kind of sweet.”

  “Like what?” Sam asked innocently. “Candy, cake . . . ice cream?”

  He stared at her long and hard. “Just one woman I can’t stop thinking about.”

  She stopped and let the others go ahead of them. “I thought we weren’t going there again.”

  “I never made any promises.”

  “Look, I want you to . . . I want you to stop flirting with me.”

  He got in her face. “No, Samantha. I can’t do that. I’m not sorry I kissed you and I don’t think you are either.”

  Sam kept walking, but they were falling behind everybody else. “I am sorry, Lukas. I never meant for things to start up between us again. You seem like you want me but let’s be honest, I’m just your girl-of-the-moment. Like when we first dated, you weren’t all that interested in having sex with me. But eventually you did because I was . . . convenient. And you thought what the hell.”

  He froze in his tracks. Turned slowly around to face her. Snorted loudly. “Um, pardon me, but that’s not how I remember it.”

  “Well, how do you remember it?”

  He cleared his throat. “Let’s talk about this later.”

  “No. Let’s talk about it now.”

  “Sammy, you all right?” Ben called from up ahead.

  “We’ll catch up in a sec,” she yelled back.

  “It’s no secret you were out for trouble back then,” Lukas said.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know. The dyed hair, the black wardrobe.”

  “You had plenty of rebel in you, too.”

  “I did, but you were angry at the world. That never leads to good things.”

  She frowned, and it seemed like she understood what he was getting at. “Okay, you’re right. Now’s not the time to talk about this.”

  “Whoa. Hold up.” He grabbed her arm. “You brought it up, so hear me out. You wanted to have sex. You couldn’t wait to have it. You wanted to do everything possible to get rid of your good-girl image.” And he’d been such a fool not to help her with that—at first, anyway.

  She turned red, and he knew he’d hit the mark. “I know I was foolish back then.”

  “Don’t think I didn’t want you.” He snorted. “You’re all I thought about day and night. But you were so young—and innocent. I didn’t want to be the one to ruin that—ruin you. I didn’t want to have sex with you because you were hurt over everything that happened. I always knew you were a good girl. You deserved more.”

  Tears sprung up in her eyes. She shook her head as if she didn’t believe him. “You didn’t have sex with me because of some effed-up code of honor? I know I was angry at first but I—I fell in love with you, Lukas. I loved you.”

  Her words fractured his heart into a million pieces. All aching. “I held out as long as I could. Until so help me God, I couldn’t hold out any longer.” He’d loved her from the moment he’d set eyes on her. He’d tried so desperately not to get involved with her. But the volcanic force between them was too explosive.

  She lowered herself to a rock. “You say it like it was something you finally did to humor me.”

  He squatted down and gripped her by the shoulders. “You know how it was between us.”

  She looked him dead center in the eyes. “How was it, Lukas? Tell me.”

  “I just knew when you came back from college that first Christmas, you weren’t mad at the world any more. I was certain you wanted . . . me. I needed you to want me.” She’d gone off to college and finally escaped the torment of her high school experience. Made friends. Had fun.

  “Lukas, I always wanted you. From the first day I saw you standing outside at Clinker’s. I loved you. Until you pushed me away.”

  “If it helps, I’ve regretted that decision every day of my life.”

  “You had another chance. The next summer, you kissed me. I broke up with Harris. But you left. You left forever. You never came back for me. Never called, never texted, never emailed.”

  The silence was shattering. His heartbeat reminded him of the tick-tock of a clock in a cold, dark room, and it seemed to go on forever.

  “Yes, I did.” His voice cracked. “I came back at Christmas.” He saw her shock, but he was done playing games. She wanted to hear it, and he was going to tell her. All of it. Face-to-face.

  He watched her do the mental math. “Four months after you left?”

  “I’d spent that time doing gigs in all kinds of places. Sleeping in bad hotels, eating in truck-stop diners. But I was making a name for myself, building my brand. Little by little I was getting noticed, and that kept me going.”

  She shook her head. “You were too busy to call or even send an e-mail?”

  “I was determined not to come back until I’d had some success, or what was the point? What could I offer you? Right before Christmas I played in Hartford, and there was an agent in the audience. I got him to look at my music. That was the beginning of it.”

  “Lukas, you were never a failure to me. Only to yourself.” She was crying. Over him. On instinct, he caught the tear with his thumb.

  “I hitchhiked from Hartford with a trucker. All I could think of was sharing my good news with someone—with you. He dropped me off at the town square. There was a group of carolers there.”

  Sam closed her eyes. She must have known what he was about to say. “Oh, don’t, Lukas. Please.”

  “You were singing and laughing and shivering in the cold. Harris was standing next to you, rubbing your arms, whispering things in your ear. And when the music was over, he kissed you.”

  She leveled her solemn green eyes on him. “I’d just agreed to give him another chance. He was persistent, and I was lonely. I’d given up thinking you wanted me.”

  “Yeah, well. I didn’t give up on you. I just let my pride stop me from coming back sooner.” He’d waited too long, waited for success, and lost everything. Lost her. He scanned her eyes, knowing this was his final chance to get it right with her. He clenched her arm so suddenly her breath caught. “Break up with him.”

  “What!” she said too loudly. Then she lowered her voice. “Why—so we can sleep together and you can leave again?”

  “What we have between us is about more than just sex and you know it. You don’t belong with him.” Oh, hell, it was, wasn’t it? About so much more than just sex. He was so, so screwed.

  “Who do I belong with, Lukas?”

  Me. You belong with me, a voice practically screamed in his head. He wanted to say it, but fear stopped him.

  “Your career is just taking off. You’ll be on the road constantly.”

  “Come with me.” The words spilled out of his mouth before he could rein them in. It startled him to realize he meant them. He didn’t just want to sleep w
ith her to relive an old fantasy. She was much, much more than that; she’d worked so far into his system there was no turning back.

  “Come with me,” he repeated. “On the road. Give us a chance to work.”

  She was full-out crying now. He wanted to wipe her tears, tell her he’d never make her cry again if she’d only give him a chance. “You broke my heart, Lukas. Not once but twice. I’d be a fool to ever trust you again.” She glanced at the curvy dirt trail. “We’d better catch up.”

  “You’re wrong about me,” he said. “You feel something with me that you don’t with him. Admit it.”

  “Chemistry’s great, but your life isn’t here and mine is. There’s no solution for that.”

  “Samantha, dear, are you coming?” Effie’s voice carried from somewhere up ahead.

  “Coming, Effie,” she called, swiping at her eyes. “Good-bye, Lukas.” Then she tugged her arm free and ran ahead.

  Fifty feet later, Samantha face-planted. Upset, running too fast, trying her best to run from something she simply couldn’t run from. She’d no sooner sat up and brushed the gravel off her hands than Lukas was at her side, feeling her arms and legs, making sure she was okay, and acting like she’d just passed out instead of tripped over a fricking branch. His touch was firm and massaging, and for just a second, it made her forget the blinding flash of pain in her ankle.

  “Did you hit your head? Does anything hurt?” He was unzipping his backpack, dumping out all the stuff until he seized on a first aid kit.

  “My ankle.” She started to stand but he gently pushed her back down. Next thing she knew he’d untied her boot and tore off her sock. (Good thing she’d recently painted her toenails.) They both saw the horrific sight at the same time—her right ankle was the size of an orange.

  Then Lukas was touching her, gently fingering her foot everywhere like she was his Gibson or something, and lordie, it was so damn good to be felt up by him, even if it was just her extremity, she almost cried.

 

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