by Staci Hart
The cut that had glanced bone: Luke had gotten his ex-wife pregnant, and she would become a permanent fixture in his life. Which meant she would become a permanent fixture in my life. I didn’t blame him for not telling me when he’d found out—he was right in that the timing was garbage. I trusted him with her, I did. I believed him, it was true. But finding out like I did was brutal, shocking and brutal and too fast to follow, leaving me no time to process or even react beyond the knee-jerk desire to get as far away as I could. It was my nightmare—there had been no way to plan around it, no way to prepare, and the trauma had been blunt and forceful, taking me out at the knees.
But the deepest wound of all—the biggest, most impossible reason why I could not seem to stop crying—was because I had fallen in love with Luke Bennet.
It was perhaps the worst of all outcomes.
Not because he made me happy. Not in the way he had earned my trust. Not for the freedom I’d found in him. Luke was full of vitality and possibility, his spark igniting something in me that I hadn’t known existed—adventure. Spontaneity. Joy in the unknown.
It wasn’t even because he loved me too.
The painful realization that I had let Luke in was a mortal wound. I gave him my heart, day by day, minute by minute, piece by piece. And that was a sacrifice, one I hadn’t realized the weight of.
Not until yesterday. Not until I had seen him with her, learned of the bond they would share, and I realized with a brutal drag of the knife that I could lose him.
And when he left, he would take my heart with him.
I would be alone again.
Maybe this was the reason I’d guarded myself all this time, all these years. I’d made excuses—work, my father, etcetera, ad infinitum—because I didn’t want to make room for someone. Because when they were gone, the space was still there, empty and whistling with the wind.
The cavernous space left by my mother had never closed, never contracted.
I wondered if the one Luke left would either. Somehow, I doubted it would.
He didn’t say he was leaving, I told myself as I trudged down the steaming sidewalk toward Longbourne. He doesn’t want to leave any more than you do.
But was that desire, that intention, enough to hold us together through the hurricane on the horizon? Because there was another list, one of truths that made up Luke Bennet, truths that had made themselves too known to ignore.
He was irresponsible enough to have slept with his ex-wife, unprotected. He needed constant change, constant action—without it, he would be miserable—and I needed stability. Stillness. Security. For a moment, I’d thought he could be all that I needed him to be. But the chaos of yesterday had pitched me off a cliff and sent me tumbling in a freefall. Everything had changed, and my bearings were lost. I couldn’t draw the line between the boy I used to know, the man who’d returned, the man I had fallen in love with, and the man he would become.
Wendy would never stop manipulating him, and he would always let her. It was apparent in the fallout of what she’d said. Two words from Wendy, and our future had been wiped away.
Wiped away but not gone. Like a chalkboard—a smear and swirl of chalk dust, the message beneath it only dimmed by the sweep and residue left by the eraser of those two little words: I’m pregnant.
Time. I needed time to catalog and assess the damage. But I would not get it. Not if I knew Luke.
I drew a breath to fortify me as I approached the shop, slowing when I saw the windows, stopping when I realized what was beyond.
Luke had reworked the windows with a concept we’d only discussed. But he had taken the idea and made something beyond my imagination, the message bringing sharp tears to my eyes, setting those embers in my heart aflame.
Giant dandelion heads stood in the window on the left, nearly as tall as me and too big around for my arms to encompass. Foxtails composed the globe of feathery seeds, and the five dandelions were bent toward the door and the right window as if the wind were blowing the seeds away. Across the windows they went, suspended in flight. And in the window on the right, written in daisies and surrounded by flying foxtails, were the words Make a Wish.
I wondered if he’d made a wish, wondered what he’d wished for. And then I closed my eyes and made one of my own with my broken heart nicking my ribs.
I swiped my tears away and turned for the door, the cheerful ding of the bell a small blasphemy. The shop was already busy, my tardiness granted by Ivy and fully expended by me, though not to rest and not to find answers. Both had eluded me with expert skill.
Jett offered a small smile and a nod of comfort as I passed, but I was scanning for Luke, heart thudding and breath shallow. But to my relief, I only found Ivy, who rushed me much faster than a woman of her gestation should be able to.
She scooped me into a hug. “Oh, Tess. I’m sorry.”
I love him. I gave him my heart, and now, he’ll break it. He won’t even mean to. I shouldn’t have done it. I’d do it again.
“I’m okay,” I lied, forcing a smile as I gave her a squeeze and backed away. “How many orders are we working with?”
She worried at her lip, clearly not wanting to talk about work. But she said, “Fourteen. We’re behind from yesterday, and a bunch came in this morning.”
“Good. I could use something to do with my hands.”
A feeble laugh from Ivy. “A whole day off too much for you?”
“You have no idea.”
I set up across from Ivy, flipping through the orders, making notes in my mind for what I’d need, grateful for another diversion. Luke had come up with an idea to have a Dealer’s Choice custom bouquet option—they would tell us their price range and the recipient’s favorite color and flower, if they had one, and I’d make something off the cuff. They had become my favorite bouquets to make simply because each bouquet was different, and I relished in the challenge. They nudged the edges of my box, encouraging me to get out of it.
It was the Luke Bennet special—getting me out of my box whether I wanted to or not.
For a little while, I lost myself in work. When Brutus wasn’t winding his way around my legs or mewling up at me, he stood sentinel at my side, watching the door as intently as I did. Ivy filled the time with idle conversation, and my distraction was almost total. Almost. Luke was suspiciously absent from the shop. Every time the greenhouse doors opened, my heart would stop dead, but it was never him. By lunchtime, I’d convinced myself he wouldn’t come in. Maybe he’d been kept busy by the Bennets or Ivy in an effort to do me a solid. Maybe he was tired from working on the window display. Ivy said he’d gone all day yesterday on no sleep, not stopping until they finally forced him to go home.
When the greenhouse doors opened, I didn’t look up. But when he cleared the threshold, every nerve in my body reached for him, knowing he was there without my realizing it. When my eyes followed, they met his, held them, said a thousand things, made a hundred apologies.
Ivy slid off her stool, saying quietly as she untied her apron, “I’m going to grab us some sandwiches for lunch. I’ll get you the usual.”
“Okay,” I muttered, my eyes still on Luke.
He was darkness—hair shades of midnight, eyes shadowed by a thundercloud. Lips normally curled with levity were flat and heavy. When he strode toward me, I found my body moving to meet him without permission, as if I belonged in his arms whether I liked it or not, and I wouldn’t stop until I was there.
I was almost there when we stopped, too close to be casual, too far apart for comfort.
“Are … are you okay?” he asked, his voice raw.
I shook my head. “You?”
He shook his. “Tess, I … I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean much, but I am.”
“I know. So am I.” A pause, thick with painful silence. “The windows. You made the dandelions.”
His smile was brief, thin, just a flick of the corner of his lips. “You like them?”
“They’re perfect, Luke.”
/>
Another pause as we scrambled for what to say. There was too much, with no way to start.
But Luke found a way. He always did.
“I need…” The knot of his throat bobbed. “Please, Tess. Can I explain?”
I nodded once, bracing myself.
He drew a breath, seeming to do the same. “When I went to her the other night—” He shook his head. “No. Before that.” Another breath, a straightening of his spine. “I’ve never felt more right than since I walked through those doors, Tess. And it’s because you were here, waiting for me.”
My heart split, the contents spilling out into my chest in a warm pool.
“When she messaged me, the things she said … they scared me. When she’s in that space, bad things happen, and I didn’t want my absence to be the reason. I never could have imagined why she wanted me there, what she’d say. And I should have told you then. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I got myself into this with her, but I didn’t know. I didn’t know this would happen.”
“That she’d get pregnant?” I asked incredulously.
“No. That I’d find you.”
I swallowed my response in a sticky lump.
“She had a boyfriend I didn’t know about when we last were together. And when I left LA, I swore I’d never see her again. I moved nearly three thousand miles away to ensure it.”
“A boyfriend?” I frowned. “God, Luke. So it really might not be yours?”
“That’s the question.”
My mind whirred with possibilities and questions and a dozen emotions.
“She has a doctor’s appointment in a few days, and I’m going with her. She insists the baby’s mine, but … I don’t know. I want to believe she wouldn’t lie about this just as much as I hope it isn’t true.”
I stared at him, feeling his honesty in every word, written in every line of his face. He hadn’t known. And Wendy was desperate—I’d seen it for myself when she came here yesterday. But I had no response, no answers. It was all too much to comprehend. But there was one thing I knew for sure.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, my chest aching. “I’m sorry you have to go through this, no matter if it’s true or not.”
“I don’t care about that, Tess,” he said gently, pleadingly, taking my hands. “None of that matters as long as we’re okay. None of it matters if I still have you.”
But I couldn’t give him the answer he wanted to hear, not because I didn’t want to. But because I didn’t know if I should.
I’d taken enough risks for a lifetime. The next time I took a chance, I had to be sure.
I withdrew my hands from the confines of his. “This has all been so much, Luke. The drama, the upheaval in the shop, in my home, in my life. It feels like someone reached in and pulled it inside out. I don’t know which way is up because there is no one answer. It’s not black and white. There is no yes or no, and there’s no right or wrong.” I watched as his face fell, his eyes sharp with pain.
“But there is. I haven’t done anything wrong. I didn’t do this to hurt you—it’s out of my hands, out of my control. And you don’t trust me. After all of this, you still don’t trust me.”
“I do, Luke,” I insisted, my emotion rising in a wave. “But if this has proven anything, it’s that Wendy will always manipulate you, and you will always let her. I don’t know how I fit into your life, not when it’s always in danger of being controlled by her. I need time. And you need to sort things out with Wendy.”
“I don’t need time for that,” he urged, his eyes sparking with desperation and honesty. “I need you, Tess. That’s all I need.”
“Then you’ve got to give me time,” I said with a shaky breath, taking a step backward I didn’t want to take. I wanted less space between us, not more, but if I fell into his arms, I’d never get back out. Too much was unknown to take a leap, and I was all out of faith.
“How much time?”
“I don’t know.”
His face darkened. “What do you know?”
That I love you. That I hate this. That I’m confused and overwhelmed and every choice feels like a mistake, I thought.
But I said, “That right now, Wendy needs you more than I do.”
I turned and rushed out of the shop. Because if I’d stayed a second longer, I would have kissed him. I would have promised him everything was going to be okay, not knowing if it would be, and I held on to the mantra that I refused to hurt us even more.
Even if that was its own lie.
22
RAINBOW ROAD
LUKE
I trudged through the door to my parents’ house with the intent to talk to Mom shadowed by the hope that she was already asleep and I wouldn’t have to.
It was a day of reckoning, of making things right, and I’d already failed once.
Wendy will always manipulate you, and you’ll always let her.
Tess’s words, a truth so plain, so blatant. And I’d never seen it, not in those terms.
I just had to decide what to do about it. But first, I had to get through this doctor’s appointment, figure out how to determine if this baby was mine. Because if it was, Tess was right. There would be no escaping Wendy.
My life had careened away from me with those two words. And I was no longer in control of anything.
I strode through the first floor, checking the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, finally finding Mom in the library, tucked into the big armchair with a romance novel.
Her eyes were sad when they met mine, but she smiled small, closing her book and resting it in her lap. “Hello, Lucas.”
“Hi, Mom.” I glanced at my feet, feeling like I was six again. “I … I’m glad you’re up.”
“Well, I figured you’d come home eventually, and I owe you an apology.”
My gaze snapped up to meet hers.
“Come here,” she coaxed, waving me toward her as she shifted to move her feet from the footrest.
I took a seat, and she took my hand.
“I shouldn’t have said such terrible things, and I shouldn’t have lost my temper like I did. I was just so shocked, Lucas. I thought … well, I thought when you separated, you wouldn’t see her again. I should have known she wouldn’t let you go so easy. And I should have known you wouldn’t abandon her. It’s a testament to your character, to the fabric of who you are. When you love, you love fiercely. And for that, I’m proud.”
“But it was stupid and reckless. I didn’t think … didn’t realize the stakes.”
“No, it’s just that the stakes changed when you fell in love with Tess.”
I blinked back my surprise. “How did you—”
But she laughed. “I might be old, but I’m not blind. And my children are too easy to fool into believing I’m unaware. Do you really think I haven’t seen you two together? You can barely keep your hands off each other.”
A chuckle puffed out of me. “So much for secrets.”
“Oh, I can’t blame you for not telling me—I knew you would when you were ready. And besides, I would have meddled, and we all know it.” She squeezed my hand. “How’s Tess?”
“Upset. She asked me for time, and I have no choice but to give it to her.”
“She doesn’t come around quick, but she always comes around. I promise, Lucas. She will.”
“I hope you’re right. But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s out of my control. It’s in Wendy’s.”
A shadow passed across her face. “Damn her.”
I drew a sigh from the very bottom of my lungs. “Tess said Wendy would always manipulate me, and I’d always let her. And she’s right. I just don’t know how to untangle myself from her, Mom. I don’t know how to let her go because I’m afraid if I do, she’ll drown.”
“Or she’ll swim. But the only way you won’t be dragged down by her weight is if you put up boundaries. If this baby is yours—”
“You know about that too?”
She rolled her eyes. “There are n
o secrets in this family, Lucas. If this baby is yours, get a mediator and sort out custody and rights. Show up and do your duty, nothing more.”
“And when she falls apart, threatens to hurt herself and the baby?”
“Then you call the ambulance and go to her. And you fight for full custody. But the child might not be yours. And if that’s the case, then you walk away from her once and for all. It’s time, son. It’s time to move on.”
“But I have. I thought I was no longer beholden to her, and then this. Every time I think I’ve gotten away, I get sucked back in.”
“Wendy thinks she still has a chance with you because your actions have never said otherwise. So put your money where your mouth is, Lucas Bennet, and show her.”
I nodded, hope sparking in my chest. Because showing Wendy just how through we were would not only prove my sincerity.
It would prove my devotion to Tess.
Because above all, that was what I wanted. She was what I wanted.
I only hoped I could win her back.
TESS
My heart thundered as I rounded the last bend of Rainbow Road with Dad hot on my tail. The finish line loomed, and for one second, I thought I might actually beat him.
Should have known better.
A heat-seeking turtle shell blasted me in the rear, and while my car flipped and bounced, Dad flew past and under the banner.
I groaned. “Sneaky bastard.”
“Face it, Pigeon. I am the resident champion, and beating me is a pipe dream. Get it? Pipes? Mario?”
“Har-har,” I hyucked. “It wouldn’t kill you to let me win every once in a while. You know, for my ego?”
He gave me a look. “You’d really want me to throw a game?”
“No,” I admitted on a sigh, stretching my back. “Wanna go again?”
“Maybe in a minute. Need to give my trigger fingers a chance to regroup.” He held them up, wiggling them for effect. “How’d it go at the shop today?”
“It was…” A sigh slipped out of me. “Dad, I didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
