by Sydney Logan
My fingertip traced his lips, and he kissed it softly.
“I’m thinking about this town. I’m thinking about Matt . . . our jobs . . . our future.”
“Of that list, all we can control is our future.”
He nodded. “I know. I told my mom about the situation with Matt, and she asked me a very important question.”
“What did she ask?”
He laced his fingers with mine. “Do I really want to raise my children in a town like Sycamore Falls?”
My entire body froze. Children?
“I don’t want to freak you out, Sarah. We don’t have to talk about this at all.”
“No, it’s okay. We should talk about it. What did you say?”
“I told her Sycamore Falls was so . . . sheltered. Which is good and bad, you know? But do we really want our kids to be this sheltered? Do we want them to grow up thinking anything or anyone different is wrong? Do I want them to feel pressured to conform just so they can fit in?”
“But those pressures exist everywhere,” I reminded him.
“But to this extent?” Lucas asked, his voice laced with misery. “To the point a young man has to stand before his church and beg them not to toss him out?”
“I’m not defending Sycamore Falls,” I assured him, “but I’m not sure we’re all that different from any other small town.”
“I know, which is why I’m not sure living in a small town is the answer.”
“Living in a large city isn’t the answer, either,” I whispered grimly. “There’s prejudice everywhere. There’s hatred everywhere.”
Growing quiet, Lucas held me close. His fingers gently slid through my hair, and I’d almost drifted off when I heard his quiet whisper.
“Are you happy?”
“You make me happy,” I said, pressing a kiss to his chest.
“I have to warn you. My mother is already planning our wedding.”
I laughed. “Does she know something we don’t?”
“No,” Lucas replied sleepily. “I think she just knows her son is very much in love with you, and he’d marry you today if you’d let him.”
It didn’t take long until his soft snores filled the air, which was ironic, because after that little declaration, I was suddenly wide-awake.
By Tuesday, the roads were decent enough for school to resume. The students were excited to be back and were talkative most of the day, but overall, the return to work was blissfully uneventful.
That is, until the end of the day, when I walked into the office to check my mail.
“Miss Bray, the principal would like to see you in his office if you have a moment,” the secretary said, offering me a sympathetic smile.
I glanced down at my watch. Today was my first tutoring session with Matt.
Sighing, I thanked her and made my way over to the principal’s door. It was open, and he was sitting behind his desk, tapping away on his computer. I knocked lightly, and he didn’t even bother looking up as he invited me inside.
“Close the door, please,” he instructed. He then offered me a chair, which I accepted. After a few minutes, Principal Mullins finally lifted his head, gazing at me with some unreadable expression.
As fun as it was to sit and stare at my boss, I had more important things to do this afternoon.
“You wanted to see me?”
His smile was cold. “Am I keeping you from something, Miss Bray?
At my persistence, Lucas had finally spoken to the principal about his tutoring for Matt. Principal Mullins agreed he had no control over our personal time, and while he didn’t approve, he admitted it was Lucas’s decision to make. I didn’t bother asking permission. I knew it would only lead to another confrontation, which was something I was desperately trying to avoid. Principal Mullins apparently had other plans, so I decided to be honest.
“Yes, actually, but I have a few minutes. I have a tutoring session at four.”
“With Matthew Stuart, I presume.”
I nodded and braced myself for attack.
Principal Mullins stood up slowly from his desk and walked around to the front. He leaned against it, watching me closely.
“Miss Bray, I’m not sure you’re a good . . . fit here at Sycamore High. You don’t share our vision.”
You mean I don’t share your vision.
“Of course, as a non-tenured teacher, that will be up for the school board to decide, but they do seek the principal’s recommendation in the matter of rehires, and I am very honest when it comes to my recommendations.”
“My evaluations have been top-notch,” I reminded him calmly.
“Yes, but your attitude stinks.”
Only with you, I wanted to say. Instead, I bit my tongue. Anything I might say would just add fuel to the fire. Obviously, it was time to look for another job. He was making it quite clear I wouldn’t be coming back to Sycamore High. I was actually glad to have the confirmation. Most non-tenured teachers didn’t find out until spring. He was giving me plenty of notice, which, in a strange way, I appreciated.
“I understand you and Mr. Miller have become quite close.”
“I’m not sure that’s any of your concern, Mr. Mullins.”
“Oh, but it is. I expect my teachers to be role models. Shacking up with his girlfriend is not what I would consider a positive influence on our students.”
I stiffened. So far, we’d avoided gossip considering our sleeping arrangements.
“Lucas has his own apartment.”
“Which he rarely occupies,” Principal Mullins said with a sneer. “It’s a small town, Miss Bray. Word gets around.” Walking around his desk, he dropped back into his leather chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. “Mr. Miller is a fine instructor. Very few know about his unfortunate situation in New York, and that is in thanks to me. But now . . .”
Rage flooded my veins. “He was innocent of those charges.”
“So they say, but you know small towns, Miss Bray. All it takes is a little rumor to ruin someone’s reputation. I’d hate to see that happen to Mr. Miller.”
Is he threatening me?
“What is it exactly you want from me, Mr. Mullins?”
His smile was sinister. “Your support. Unbelievably, I am being met with much resistance from the pastor and the deacons of the church. They are supportive of Matthew—as are you and Mr. Miller. I feel—and many agree with me—Matthew is no longer welcome in our congregation. He is violent, and he is a homosexual. He is a sinner, and has no rightful place in our church.”
“I fail to see what any of that has to do with me or Lucas.”
“I’m merely seeking your support,” Mr. Mullins said slowly. “And in exchange, Mr. Miller’s past scandal will remain buried and both of your jobs will remain intact.”
I furiously jumped to my feet. “Are you blackmailing me?”
“Such an unpleasant word,” he murmured as his eyes searched mine. “Consider it a peace offering. You scratch my back . . .”
My blood was boiling with fury. This man was a school administrator. A deacon of the church. A pillar of our community.
“You’re out of your mind. It will be a cold day in hell—and that’s exactly where you’re going—before I support you in anything. There is absolutely nothing keeping me from calling every member of the school board and telling them about this conversation.”
He laughed darkly. “If you do, please say hello to Phil Randall for me. He’s the chairman of the school board, as you know, considering he signs your paychecks. He’s also been my best friend for thirty years. A fine man.”
That’s when I was reminded small towns can be great places to live—if you know the right people.
Unfortunately for me, all of my people were dead and gone.
Once I was in the car, I called Debbie Stuart, asking to reschedule today’s tutoring session. I broke every speed limit on the way to my house, but I needed the sanctuary of home.
I needed him.
I w
as visibly upset, and he would panic. What would I say to him? Could I tell him I’d just been blackmailed? Could I tell him his job and his professional reputation rested in the hands of the most evil man I’d ever known?
Could I protect him?
By the time I walked into the kitchen, I still had no idea what to say to him. All I knew was I needed to feel his arms around me. I slammed the door, and he immediately jumped up from his place at the kitchen table.
“What’s wrong?”
I dropped my bag onto the floor and rushed toward him, leaping into his arms. Winding my legs around his waist, I crushed myself against him as I finally let the tears flow.
“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”
Lucas carried me toward the table, sitting me gently in his lap.
“Everything,” I whispered through my sobs. “Everything is wrong.”
But as I said the words, I knew they weren’t true. Not everything was wrong.
Lucas was here, and he loved me.
And I knew I couldn’t keep this from him.
Chapter 23
I was exhausted, but I wasn’t tired.
It was the strangest feeling, but truthfully, it wasn’t the first time in my life I’d felt this way. Just painfully fatigued, and yet, unable to close my eyes because my nerves were absolute live wires.
To say Lucas was pissed was an understatement. I’d never seen him so angry, but he wasn’t upset with me. After my confession, he’d immediately called his lawyer who was ready to take the first flight out of New York. He was now on the phone with his parents, and while I had no idea what that conversation consisted of, I wondered what they thought of me. After all, I’d had the power to protect their son. Would they despise me if he lost his job?
Without his arms around me, it was so easy to doubt myself. Principal Mullins could ruin our careers, and not only in Sycamore Falls. I didn’t care so much about mine, but to know Lucas’s troubles could haunt him, and I had the power to keep that from happening . . .
Correction—I’d had the power.
“Well, my parents are livid,” Lucas announced as he walked into the kitchen. I was standing at the counter, angrily chopping vegetables for a salad we were much too upset to eat. “They want us to resign immediately and move to Manhattan.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad to me.”
Lucas’s eyes snapped to mine. “Really? Because I can book us a flight tonight. We’ll go anywhere you want and we’ll never look back.”
The determined look on his face assured me he was serious.
“Maybe you should go without me,” I whispered softly.
His face darkened as he dropped his cell phone onto the table. Slowly, he made his way over to me, and I dropped the knife against the cutting board.
“Why would you say something like that?”
His voice was soft and sad, and it only broke my heart even more. I blinked back my tears and he whispered my name, gently lifting my face toward his.
“He could ruin you, Lucas.”
“I don’t care.”
His inability to see just how much Mullins could destroy him infuriated me. “You should care! You need to listen to your parents and go back to Manhattan.”
“Without you?”
“Yes.”
“Not a chance.”
His eyes flashed with anger. Exhaling a shaky breath, I leaned on the counter for support as he stepped closer. The only sound in the room was our labored breaths and the chime of the grandfather clock.
“Stop this,” he whispered, smoothing my hair out of my face and gently stroking my tear-stained cheek. “Don’t you dare do this. Don’t even think about trying to push me away because it won’t work. You will never convince me I’d be better off without you, so don’t waste your energy.”
“I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“You think it would have been better if you’d just kept this to yourself? Dealt with it alone?”
“Yes.”
His fingertips stroked my cheek. “Aren’t you tired of dealing with everything without someone by your side? Haven’t you done that long enough?”
I bowed my head.
“And now you’re trying to push me away. But that’s how you deal with every crisis, isn’t it? You push away the people you love.”
I gasped. “That’s not fair, Lucas.”
“You’re right. It’s not fair at all,” he agreed quietly. “But you did it to Aubrey when your parents died. And in some twisted way, you did it to Monica by leaving her in Memphis and moving back home. Life gets rough, and you push away anyone who has ever meant anything to you.”
I couldn’t deny it. Ending my friendship with Aubrey had been completely selfish on my part. I’d been a sixteen-year-old girl who’d just buried her parents. In my mind, if I closed myself off to everyone, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if they left me. I’d grown up, but my philosophy hadn’t changed.
But this time, it was different. I wasn’t trying to protect myself.
“I just want to take care of you.” Tears finally trickled down my cheeks. For the first time in my life, I was trying to be selfless, and he wouldn’t let me.
Lucas’s face softened.
“And I want to take care of you.” His hands gently framed my face. “That’s how it’s supposed to work, Sarah. We’re supposed to protect each other. I don’t need you playing the martyr. I just need you.”
I closed my eyes as his lips brushed across my wet cheeks.
“I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he whispered forcefully. “You’re not alone anymore, and I will not let you push me away.”
As he lifted me into his arms, I encircled his waist with my legs and buried my face against his neck while he carried me upstairs.
Kicking the bedroom door shut and lifting me against it, Lucas pressed his body into mine. His lips blazed a trail along my throat, causing me to moan and tense my legs, pulling him tighter against me. With a groan, his mouth crashed against mine, and I could do nothing but cling to him when he lifted me away from the door and carried me toward the bed, laying me gently against the mattress. Crawling over my body, Lucas slid his hand up my leg and along my thigh before finding the buttons of my blouse. His eyes never left my face while he gradually unfastened each one. I reached for the zipper of his jeans, and we undressed each other slowly, our earlier frenzy settling into something familiar and real . . . and just as passionate as being pinned against the door.
“I love you, baby.”
Whimpering, I repeated his words and drew him closer. All of the fear and desperation mingled with the absolute certainty of the words we were whispering to each other came crashing over me.
He wouldn’t leave me.
I wouldn’t leave him.
Simple promises made with adoring whispers and quiet passion, and just as binding as if we were reciting them at the altar.
From that day on, there was no more talk of leaving.
There was, however, much talk about Christmas vacation, which was only two weeks away. It was the favorite topic of conversation at both home and school.
It snowed a little every day, blanketing the mountains and adding to the excitement of the season. I couldn’t deny I was excited, even though Lucas was becoming more secretive as the holiday crept closer. I’d catch him on his laptop or on his phone at the weirdest times, and he’d just shrug it off and distract me with Christmas trees, sugar cookies, and hot kisses under the forest of mistletoe he’d hung throughout the house. There was really no rhyme or reason to it. Sprigs hung in the usual places—like the archway leading into the living room, and to my amusement, above the bed—but it was when he hung mistletoe from the ceiling above the shower that I’d finally drawn the line.
As if he needed an excuse to kiss me.
Thanks to a weeklong bout with the flu, Principal Mullins had been blissfully absent from school, postponing the inevitable conversation. He’d
want to know what I’d decided, and Lucas had already demanded to stand by my side when the day arrived.
We were united, and there was no more talk of leaving.
“Miss Bray, are you listening?”
I smiled apologetically at Matt, and he laughed.
“Thinking about Mr. Miller, aren’t you.”
I flipped through the pages of his textbook and pretended to play dumb.
“Why would you assume that?”
“Because I catch him daydreaming, too,” Matt replied with a grin. “It’s cool, though. I get it.”
Lucas and I were tutoring Matt twice a week. He didn’t really need our help; Matt was an intelligent young man. What he did need, however, was motivation and some positive influences. He was surrounded by thugs at the alternative school, which made his mom understandably nervous, but the isolation from his friends had sent Matt spiraling into a depression that kept him locked in his room all day long. His father had been less than supportive, which only added to Matt’s stress. Debbie admitted he was happiest when Lucas or I were there, which made the fact that I wasn’t paying attention to him an absolute shame.
“I’m sorry, Matt. So what do you think of Poe?”
“So much better than Shakespeare.”
I couldn’t agree more.
“He is a little morbid,” Matt continued, “but life is morbid sometimes, so I think it’s pretty realistic. Death is a part of life, right?”
“It is. Do you have a favorite?”
“It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea . . .”
Closing his eyes, he quietly recited the first stanza of “Annabel Lee.”
I smiled. “That’s my favorite, too. How are you, Matt? Really?”
It was a stupid question, really. I could tell by the dark circles under his eyes he wasn’t doing well at all.
He shrugged. “I’m just trying to get to graduation, Miss Bray. No matter how much I love this town, I’ve seen enough in the past few weeks to know I’ll never truly be happy here. I want to live in a place where I can get lost in the crowd and still live my life.”
“Are you still thinking about college?”
