Waiting on You

by Kristan Higgins

  There was no meadow on a hill in this area; there was only flatness. And heat. Two months away, and the heat of the Midwest got baked into him like never before, and he found himself thinking about the nights in New York when it had been cold enough to sleep with a blanket to keep you warm.

  Or a woman.

  Or a woman and her dog, more accurately.

  And then thoughts of Bryce and her would slice through that pretty image.

  His buzzer rang, and Lucas got up from the computer. Crap, it was already dark, and he still hadn't eaten. "Hello," he said in the intercom.

  "Hey! It's Bryce."

  Speak of the devil. "Come on up."

  Lucas hadn't heard much from him since the funeral, other than his shock that he was now a wealthy man. If he was smart (and Lucas intended to make sure he would be), Joe's money could keep Bryce modestly comfortable for life.

  He opened the door, and there was his cousin.

  "What's up, bro?" Bryce said, hugging him.

  Bryce had brought a six-pack, which was a first. "Sorry I didn't call. I wanted to see you. Just jumped in the car and drove to the airport, grabbed a cab here."

  "That's fine," he said. "How are things?"

  They ordered a pizza ("Nothing like Chicago pie," Bryce said happily) and opened a couple beers. Lucas listened as Bryce told him his plans for the future; he was getting his personal trainer's license and was thinking about possibly opening a women-only gym (which would be a frickin' gold mine, let's be honest). Still washing dogs and finding them homes. He and Paulie were still together, really happy, having lots of fun. Didi was back in Manningsport and kind of a pain, always dropping by unannounced, but Bryce hadn't given her a key, so at least she couldn't come barging into his place at the opera house.

  "Sounds like things are good," Lucas said, clearing their plates.

  "Yeah, so I might need you to free up some money from my trust fund," Bryce said. "For the gym. I'm working on getting a business plan. Paulie and her dad are helping me, and you're smart about that stuff. Maybe you could take a look?"

  "You bet," Lucas said.

  "Thanks." His cousin paused. "So about...you know. Colleen. You over that, dude?"

  Lucas looked at his beer and didn't answer for a minute. "Did it ever occur to you that..." He broke off. That I loved her, he'd been about to say.

  Bryce gave a sad smile. "Yeah. It occurred to me. But you were gone and married and living the life, right? And Colleen and I were still in Manningsport, and the thing was, I always liked her, from high school on. I mean, I'm a straight guy. Straight guys love Colleen. Gay guys, too, probably."

  "So you had no problem taking her to bed."

  Bryce sat back in the leather chair and looked at him. "You ever wonder what it was like to be your cousin? You were the smart one. The cool one. You were from the South Side, and that was all my dad ever talked about, the good old days, life in Chicago. I was some spoiled kid from the 'burbs."

  "My life wasn't really that great, Bryce. Mother dead, father in prison, remember?"

  "And still you were better at everything. I don't know if you remember that first day of school in Manningsport, walking into that classroom. And there was the prettiest girl in town, and she was staring at you like she'd been blind up until that second."

  Lucas remembered, all right.

  "She was the one mistake you made, wasn't she? Leaving her, marrying Ellen?"

  He didn't answer.

  "So yeah," Bryce said. "I hooked up with her, but to be honest, I have no idea why she hooked up with me. Even then, it was pretty obvious she was still hung up on you. She just looked so lonely that night."

  The thought made his chest hurt. Colleen, who was always so bright and smiling--lonely, even with her twin, her friends, her sister. Lonely, because he made her that way.

  His eyes stung suddenly.

  "I'm sorry I did it," Bryce said, and his voice was gentle. "I took advantage of her being sad. I think I just wanted to see what it'd be like to be you, just for a little while. Obviously, it didn't work."

  Lucas looked at him, the cousin who'd always looked up to him, who'd always wanted what he had.

  The cousin who had risked his life to save him, that day on the tracks.

  "Are we okay, Lucas?" Bryce asked.

  Lucas got up from the couch and hugged him. "Yeah. We're fine."

  "Good. Because there's another reason I'm here." He reached into his backpack, pulled out a small box and handed it to Lucas. "This is for you."

  Lucas opened it.

  It was Joe's silver pocket watch. The Civil War watch, handed from father to son for five generations now.

  Warm and heavy in his hand, the watch's curling design was faint but still legible. Lucas opened it. The numbers were elaborate and old-fashioned.

  On the inside of the cover, the engraving read To My Cherished Son from Your Loving Father.

  "This is your watch, Bryce," Lucas said, clearing his throat. Could his cousin honestly not want this? "It's been passed down from father to son since the 1860s."

  Bryce pulled a piece of paper from his knapsack and handed it over. "About halfway down."

  Lucas took the paper, the sight of Joe's blocky handwriting giving him a pang.

  Lucas won't need anything, but take care of him anyway. I want him to have the Civil War watch, Bryce. I hope you don't mind, but he deserves it. He's always been such a good son to me, and a wonderful brother to you.

  Make sure you stay close with him. I always missed my own brother so much. Picture me with your uncle Dan, okay, son?

  There was more, but Lucas couldn't see it, because suddenly his eyes were full of tears.

  Maybe Joe hadn't sent him out of the room because he hadn't wanted him there. Maybe Bryce just needed to get his father's final blessing, when Lucas had had it all along.

  *

  LUCAS AND STEPHANIE took Bryce out for breakfast the next day at Lula's, then put him in a cab to the airport.

  "I love that idiot," Stephanie said. "Granted, I couldn't spend more than a day with him, but he's sweet. Gorgeous, too. Man! We have an amazing gene pool, us Campbells."

  "Yeah," he agreed.

  His sister fixed him with an irritated stare. "What's the matter? You look like the dog died, and you don't even have a dog. This is about Colleen, isn't it? So she screwed Bryce. Get over it."

  "It's not just that."

  "Oh, God. You men. You irritate me. I'm so glad I'm a lesbian."

  "Are you?"

  "I could be. By the way, I hate to tell you this, but I'm staying with Forbes. Frank doubled my salary and gave me a promotion. Sayonara, sonny."

  He threw up his hands. "Wow. Thanks, Steph. Family loyalty and all that."

  "Please. I'm a single mother."

  "Yes, I vaguely remember."

  She rolled her eyes. "You know how Frank is. The job offer includes college tuition for the girls and a month of vacation to start. I already have the Rolls Royce health benefits, that freaking amazing gym, and now a wardrobe allowance at Bergdorf. You can't do that for me, youngster."

  "Mom and Dad would be extremely disappointed in you, you materialistic monster."

  "Talk to the hand. The face is planning to take the girls to St. Croix." She folded her arms. "Besides, you don't want me working for you. I'd take over in about half an hour."

  "True."

  "And now you're free to leave and go back to Manningsport."

  He hesitated. "I can't."

  "Why?"

  "Because (a) I hate it there, and (b) you're here. You and the girls."

  "Well, (a) you're insane, because that place is fucking paradise, not to mention much better weather, and (b) have they not invented phones? FaceTime? Skype? Planes? Trains? Automobiles?"

  "I see you'll really miss me."

  She hugged him hard. "Get out of town, Lucas. Go get married and make me an aunt, for crying out loud. I gotta run. Chloe has a half day. Love you, bye, sorry I too
k a better offer, call me from New York." She pecked him on the cheek. "Oh, by the way, I thought of your new slogan." She paused for dramatic effect. "Campbell Construction--It's Time to Come Home."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  ANOTHER FRIDAY NIGHT happy hour at O'Rourke's, and Colleen was doing her thing. Con was in the kitchen. They'd already sold out of the tuna tacos. The Hollands took up two tables, and the fire department was having another of their "meetings," which seemed to involve a contest for the filthiest joke involving a hose or a pole or both. Jessica Dunn was ahead by a mile.

  Connor had broken up with his mystery woman. He wasn't heartbroken, and Colleen once again had high hopes for Jess. Even now, Connor was giving her the eye. About time he listened to his sister.

  Mother Dear was on a date in the back of the pub (drinking her disgusting white Zin and 7-Up) and discussing art with Ronnie Petrosinsky. Poultry art, specifically, though Mom was still extolling the thrill of painting nudes. Savannah had just left with Gail; Gail was debating whether or not to take Dad back.

  As for Bryce and Paulie, Coll was thinking she'd wear violet as maid of honor, because it seemed as if those two were just a matter of time.

  Lucas would be best man, of course.

  Best not to think of him, but her throat tightened just the same.

  "Colleen, would you make me one of those grapefruit gimlet thingies I had last time?" Louise asked, and Colleen snapped back to attention.

  She made drinks, pulled beers, wiped up spills, flirted with the patrons and made sure Monica and Hannah didn't need help bringing out orders. She called Rushing Creek to check on Gramp. Joanie, his favorite nurse, said he was sleeping comfortably.

  Maybe Coll would stop by later.

  She turned to check on Jessica and the gang to see if they needed anything, and there was Lucas.

  For a second, it seemed as though she was imagining him, his dark eyes and curling hair and rough, fallen angel beauty.

  But no, Carol Robinson walked past him, patted his ass, and said, "Hi, hottie," and he smiled a little, not looking away from Colleen, and good God, the smile just nailed her to the spot.

  He didn't say anything.

  He didn't have to. He was here.

  "I'm sorry," he said, and her eyes filled with a rush and spilled right over. "I'm very, very sorry, mia."

  That word never failed to get her, and he damn well knew it.

  "Well, then," she whispered. Couldn't manage anything else.

  "Forgive me," he said.

  The bar was quieting, and Colleen realized that yes, she had four beer glasses in her hands and hadn't moved, and this was quite unusual, and maybe people were catching on, and what was she wearing, anyway, heck, it didn't matter, probably, at least there was the push-up bra, because every day there was a push-up bra, and Lucas was here, and he was sorry.

  She wasn't sure she'd ever be the same.

  "I love you, Colleen," he said, and no, she wouldn't be the same, not ever.

  Then Hannah took the glasses from her, but still Colleen couldn't move, but her breath was jerking a little, and those tears just kept slipping down her cheeks.

  Then Connor was there, behind the bar with her, and he put a protective arm around her shoulders. "What do you want?" he growled.

  "I want to marry your sister," Lucas answered, his eyes on her still, those deep, dark eyes that always said so much.

  Connor bristled. "Over my cold, dead, stiff--"

  "Oh, shut up, Connor," she said, and with that, she scootched up on the bar, swung her legs over and then Lucas had her in his arms, and she was crying and laughing, and Lucas's face was against her neck.

  "I love you," he whispered. "Let me come home to you, mia. Marry me. I'll beg if I have to."

  "It's so tempting, but you know me," she said. "I'm easy."

  Then she kissed him, and a cheer went up from the gang, and Colleen held her man tight, the one she'd been waiting for, the only man she ever loved.

  She pulled back, and Lucas wiped her eyes and kissed her forehead, and Colleen turned to the crowd. Faith was crying, Tom Barlow winked, Mom was blowing her nose into a napkin.

  Then she kissed Lucas again and felt him smile against her mouth, and hugged him hard.

  She looked over to see her brother smiling, albeit grudgingly I guess I can live with it.

  Thanks, brother mine.

  "Drinks are on the house!" he called.

  EPILOGUE

  IN THE GREAT tradition of the O'Rourke and Campbell families, Colleen got pregnant before she got married.

  The Hollands had offered her the beautiful stone barn for her wedding, but Colleen wanted it held on the land she and Lucas had just bought--a couple of acres of hilltop meadow, Keuka glinting dark and blue in the distance, the vine-covered hills of Blue Heron to the east. Next week, construction would start on their home; they hoped to be in before the baby came. But for today, there was a white tent on the property, and Rufus galloped around the field, chasing Faith's dog and Paulie's fat little pug and dirty-mop dog.

  It was a sparkling October afternoon, the sky a heart-wrenching blue, the red and gold leaves glowing on the hills. It would be a simple wedding--a tent, a justice of the peace, lots of good food (nachos, of course) and drinks and music.

  Savannah was her maid of honor, and Bryce was best man, Faith and Paulie were bridesmaids. Mom had a date--Ronnie (he'd given them a lifetime pass for free chicken at any Chicken King franchise, and Colleen seemed to have a craving for it, now that she was six weeks knocked up). Dad and Gail were there in the second row, right behind Mom, not quite back together, not quite separated.

  All the people Colleen loved, except one.

  Gramp had finally slipped away, about two weeks after Lucas proposed. Colleen and Connor had been there, and Dad, too, Colleen with her head on Gramp's chest, crying quietly because even though it was more than his time, and she firmly believed he'd be in a better place, she'd miss him terribly.

  It occurred to her, late that sad night as Lucas held her close and stroked her hair, that maybe on some level, Gramp had waited for her to be taken care of. That maybe he knew she and Lucas had finally found their way back to each other, and felt he could leave her now. That all this time when she'd been taking care of him, he'd been taking care of her, too.

  But while pregnancy was making her weepier than normal, today was a happy, happy day.

  "You look pretty, yadda yadda," Connor said. But his eyes were a little teary, too. "You ready?" Because yes, he was giving her away. No one else could do the job.

  "I was born ready," she said, and he grinned and rolled his eyes. "Con?"

  "Yes, Irritating Sister?"

  "I'll be your best woman when you finally listen to me and marry Jess."

  "You're such a pain."

  "I love you," she said, eyes filling.

  "I love you, too, idiot. Come on. Your song is playing."

  And there he was, Lucas Damien Campbell, smiling at her. The boy she'd loved from the second she saw him, the man she'd waited for her whole life, the only one for her, and the sun was shining, and she was laughing, and all was right with the world.

  *

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I have been blessed with the wonderful people who have built my career. At Maria Carvainis Agency, Inc., thanks to Madame, Elizabeth Copps and Martha Guzman for all they do for me. I am extremely grateful as well to everyone at Harlequin who gives my books so much thought and care, especially Susan Swinwood and Margaret Marbury and the fabulous sales team. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

  Kim Castillo at Author's Best Friend an
d Sarah Burningham at Little Bird Publicity, what a joy it is to work with both of you!

  For the use of their names in the Blue Heron series, thanks to Gerard Chartier, Lorelei Buzzetta, Gail Chianese (she's actually very nice), Dana Hoffman (ditto), the Murphy girls, the Hedberg family and the many readers who offered up their names.

  Thanks again to attorney Annette Willis for her help understanding divorce law. My longtime friend, Stephen Wrinn, DC, shared his experiences of dialysis with me--thank you, Steve! Thanks also to Mighty Jeff Pinco, M.D., for fielding my bizarre and sometimes creepy medical questions.

  Thanks to Robyn Carr and Jill Shalvis for their love and friendship, and to authors Simone Elkeles and Julie James, who helped me with some facts about the Windy City. For the laughter, wine and inspiration, thanks to Shaunee Cole, Huntley Fitzpatrick, Jennifer Iszkiewicz, and Karen Pinco, great writers all, but even better friends.

  I am blessed with a wonderful family: to my brother Mike, owner of Litchfield Hills Wine Market--I'm so glad you don't own a hardware store, because then I'd never see you. Thanks for all your help, Mikey! To my sister Hilary and my sister-in-law, Jackie, I love you both so much. And of course, eternal love and thanks to my mom.

  To readers Lorelei Buzzetta, Diana Phung and Barbara Wright, your thoughtfulness and friendship mean so much to me! Thank you for all the little things!

  In the Finger Lakes region of New York, I am hugely indebted to the helpful, warm, wonderful people at Finger Lakes Wine Country and Steuben County Conference & Visitors Bureau, and especially to Sayre Fulkerson and John Iszard at Fulkerson Winery.

  To my husband, daughter and son--I love you three more than I could ever say.

  Finally, thanks to you, dearest readers. I wish I had the words to tell you what an honor it is to have you spend a few hours with my books. I am so grateful.

  ISBN-13: 9781460328651

  WAITING ON YOU

  Copyright (c) 2014 by Kristan Higgins All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.