This Loving Feeling (A Mirror Lake Novel) (18 page)

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 with 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.

“Don’t—touch me,” she managed. But she didn’t mean it, not a single word.

He gazed up at her, an irritated look on his beautiful face. Should she be getting turned on during a foot crisis? She couldn’t seem to help it. The man had eyelashes longer than Kim Kardashian. And his were real. “Sam, I’m examining your foot.”

She scowled. “What do rock stars know about that?”

He ignored her and ran his hand along the curve of her arch, placing her foot on his thigh.

Then he made the mistake of touching the orange, which was now actually edging up to grapefruit size. “Ow,” she cried out, unable to hide her wince. “You can stop now.”

“Sorry.” He removed his fingers, but her foot still lay on his thigh. “Pretty feet.”

She frowned. “That’s your diagnosis? Do you always flirt with injured people?”

“Nope. Only screaming fans.”

“Well, I’m not screaming
or
a fan right now. But touch it again and I can probably manage to belt out a good one.”

He ignored that, too. His gaze assessed her from head to toe. “You don’t tan at all, do you? Let’s drag your butt over to the shade before you get burned.”

“Well, compared to you, who changes races when he tans, no. I do not tan. It’s my dad’s half, the Irish half.” She knew she was rambling and she really had to stop. “You don’t have to act so . . . concerned,” she said as he helped her into the shade.

“I’m not acting.”

He looked up at her, and suddenly she was flushing, and not from the sun, and the heat was working its way down into other places she didn’t want to think about. Just when she was catching her breath, he reached up and touched a curl. “Irish eyes. Irish hair. A bonny lass you are.” It would have been funny, except it wasn’t. He said it soft and slow, his hand grazing her cheek. She had to fight not to lean into it. Into
him
. He smelled wonderful, too, like summer day and dammit, the way he used to smell long, long ago, when she was just a girl and they used to sit huddled together on the park bench at the beginning of this very trail, and watch the stream course by and talk for hours.

Except she wasn’t a girl anymore and she had perspective. Trouble was it was blurring fast.

Next thing she knew, they were surrounded by the two boys, who’d come running down the trail. Stevie stood near, looking stricken and clutching his blanket.

She gave him a wink and a smile. “I just twisted my ankle, honey. No big deal.”

James offered her a water bottle. “My dad says don’t drink it. Use it like ice on your ankle.”

“Well, thanks, Doctor James. Where is your dad, anyway?”

“Grandma Effie’s yarn got tangled around a tree and he’s helping her get it off.”

Finally, Ben showed up with the two ladies and took a look and said it was probably just a bad sprain. “Lukas and I can carry you back.”

“How about I stay here till after your hike?” Sam said. “Effie can wait with me. That way the boys can still have their fun.”

“I’ll wait too,” Alethea said. “We can eat some
spanakopites
.”

“
I’ll
take her back,” Lukas said quickly.

Effie clutched her heart, and a sly smile lit up Alethea’s face. Sam shot both of them a scowl. They should be home watching romantic comedies instead of pretending life was one.

“You can’t carry her all the way back,” Ben said.

Lukas tucked Sam’s sock into her hiking boot and placed the boot into his backpack.

Then he bent down, his dark, shiny hair catching rays of sun, tugged her up to her good foot, and slung her over his back, fireman-style. “Does she need an X-ray?” he asked Ben.

“Yeah. And an Aircast.”

“Will do,” Lukas said.

“You can’t carry me for a mile,” Sam said, pounding on his upper arm, which was very, very solid. “Put me down. Are you crazy?” But her words didn’t come out clearly, being as she was wrapped around his upper back like a mink stole.

“Probably. But if it gets me some alone time with you, I’ll take it.”

“Wait!” Stevie said. He ran up to them. Sam couldn’t see him well, slung over Lukas like a potato sack and all, but she was able to tousle his hair. Big, worried eyes looked up at her.

“What is it, babe?”

He pressed his blanket into her hand. “Take Bobby.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Tears pooled in her eyes. She smoothed his cheek and blew him a kiss with her free hand. “Thank you, hon. It will help me so much.” Then she managed a quick wave to everyone as Lukas carried her off into the sunset. Or into the woods, anyway.

“Blood is rushing to my head. We may have to change positions after a while,” she said.

“I’d love to change positions anytime,” he said with a laugh. “And blood’s rushing to certain parts of my anatomy too.”

“Don’t try to be cheeky. Your head’s in the sewer.”

“Yeah, well, you have that effect on me.” He reached an arm around and wrapped it gently over the backs of her thighs, his fingers loosely holding on above her left knee. His hands were warm. And strong. She could feel the callouses on the pads of his fingers from his guitar playing.

“And don’t think about getting fresh, either, Mr. Caveman.”

He remained a gentleman. Until he unceremoniously plopped her into her car. And on the way down he took full advantage of the situation to cop a feel of her ass.

“I didn’t have a choice about that, in case you’re wondering,” he said, hitching up a corner of his mouth in a grin.

His face was very near as he reached over her to buckle her seatbelt. She examined the contour of his lips. They were nice lips, full but manly. His nose was Greek and a little large, but it suited him. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and a light shadow of stubble graced his swarthy cheeks. When he smiled, his teeth were white and oh my, that smile would have knocked her on her butt if she weren’t already sitting.

He gazed at her long and hard with those fathomless brown eyes, so Greek and so warm. But he didn’t kiss her.

Then he got behind the wheel of her car, started it, and drove them out of the MetroParks parking lot.

Samantha squeezed Stevie’s ripped, tattered blanket and wished she was five again and could be easily reassured that everything was going to be fine, just fine. Because what a mess everything had become in a few short weeks. All those rogue feelings she’d felt for Lukas at nineteen had returned. Tenfold. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise.

CHAPTER 14

“So I broke up with Hugo,” Jess said while she and Sam sat in the Donaldsons’ family room that evening sharing a glass of wine. Sam was rummaging through her sewing basket with her leg in an Aircast propped up with three pillows. She stopped and looked at her friend.

“Oh, Jess. I’m sorry.”

“He was okay until he asked me to help him shave his back. I mean, I have enough beauty maintenance of my own without having to help a guy with his, too.”

“So you’re okay with that?”

Jess put down her wine on the coffee table and shrugged. “You know I haven’t been in real love for a long time. I don’t think it’s in the cards for me.” Suddenly she frowned. “What is that gnarled ball of cat hair you’re sewing?”

“Stevie’s blanket.”

“Does he know you’re doing surgery on it?”

Sam smiled. “He gave me permission.”

“Impressive.” Jess stood up and came over to look at the train wreck. The blue satin border was frayed. The soft middle was in shreds. And it was more gray than blue from dirt. “That’s the grossest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Can’t argue with that. But it’s well-worn and well loved, that’s for sure.”

“I’d say it’s time for Bobby to retire and start hanging around with the other blankies and take up golf or something.”

Sam laughed and shook her head. “We’ve suggested that, but Stevie’s not having it.”

“
We
as in you and Lukas?”

“Don’t give me grief, okay?”

Jess raised a brow. “I won’t say anything. Just observing that you’re sounding an awful lot like a couple. Anyway, from a teacher perspective, it would be nice to have Stevie give it up before school starts. The kids will only give him grief.”

“He’s had so many changes. This is probably the most constant thing in his life.” She wound her needle in and out of the threads, trying to make a stable lattice to hold the blanket together. “Besides, I don’t know if he’ll be here when school starts. Lukas is planning to take him on the road.” She paused while she focused on a tricky part. “And just for the record, there is no ‘we.’”

“Oh, okay, right. How is Mr. Heartbreak, by the way?”

“They’ve moved back to Lukas’s place. Most of the remodeling is done.” And that was that.

Jess didn’t say anything.

Sam glanced up from the blanket. “Harris is coming back tomorrow.”

“And how do you feel about
that
?”

“Great. Everything’s just as it should be.” Actually, the house was dead silent. It felt like a lifeless void. Samantha missed Lukas and Stevie already.

Worse, she didn’t
want
Harris to come back.

“Aw, c’mon Sam. This is me. Your best, oldest, and dearest friend. Not to mention most attractive.”

Sam focused intently on weaving the thread in and out. “Okay, I’m having second thoughts. Harris isn’t . . . who I thought he was.”

“If you ask me—which you haven’t—you’re in love with the little boy for sure. And maybe part of you has always been in love with Lukas. Not maybe. Probably.”

“The foolish part of me.” Oh, the blanket was getting fuzzier than usual and her stitches were blurring into even more of a mess.

“Let me ask you a question. If you had one more hour to live, which guy would you sleep with?”

“Jess!”

“No, it’s an exercise. It helps you examine your priorities.”

“I don’t make decisions based on one hour of great sex.”

“Well, maybe you should.”

“And maybe
you
shouldn’t.” Jess’s face fell a little.
Oh, nuts
. “I’m sorry,” Sam said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Fine, maybe I deserved that. I never said I wasn’t screwed up.”

“I just see you keep searching for a guy like Trevor—beefy, good-looking, super athletic—and for the most part, you find guys exactly like him. Including the asshole factor. Maybe it’s time to pick someone a little different for a change.”

“When Trevor broke up with me, I was devastated. But guess what, I didn’t break. I didn’t die. I survived and I’ll never stop taking the chance. I keep hoping I’m going to find a guy who’s the whole package, you know? Someone smart and kind and good-looking who worries more about me than himself. And I know he’s out there, Sam. I just know it because I’m not a quitter. I’d rather take the chance and fail than settle for someone who doesn’t fit. And so should you.”

“It’s too risky to want a man whose day job involves being surrounded by beautiful screaming women. Come August, he’ll be off to travel the world and become an even huger success.” He was also a man who carried her a mile through the woods because she couldn’t walk. Who promised to stop by this afternoon to check on her.

“You used to take risks, remember?”

“That was when I was young and stupid.”

“No, that was before you got hurt by the bullying. And before Kevin died and you decided to never rock the boat again. But Sam, you get a second chance to get it right—how many people get that? You deserve more than a lukewarm life. No pun intended.”

Just then there was a knock on the glass doors that led out to the deck. Lukas and Stevie stood on the other side waving. Lukas opened the door and Stevie bolted into the room, carrying something behind his back.

“Hi Stevie,” Jess said as Stevie tore by. “And Studly. Oops, I mean Spike.”

“It’s Lukas,” he said, deadpan-seriously.

Stevie ran to Sam and hurled himself down next to her on the couch. He smelled like a warm spring day plus a coating of dirt.

“Hi, babe,” Sam said, scooching over as much as she could with the Aircast and giving him a kiss on top of his head.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, wide-eyed, pointing at her foot.

“Just a little. It’s going to be fine in a couple of weeks. It’s not broken or anything.”

He shoved a bouquet of cornflowers and dandelions at her. “We went and picked these for you.”

She glanced up at Lukas, who turned a peculiar shade of red.

“Well, Stevie did,” he mumbled.

“No, Uncle Lukas, you’re the one who drove us to Effie’s old garden and helped me pick ’em. Aunt Alex told us they were weeds but they’re pretty anyway.”

“Busted,” Jess said with a grin. “Well, little family, I’ve got to be going. See you around, Lukas. Bye, Stavros baby.” She hugged Stevie and as she passed behind Lukas, she waggled her eyebrows from behind his broad shoulders. “Bye, Sam.”

“Thanks for the wine,” Sam said. She turned to the boys. Funny, she almost thought of them as
her
boys. That was scary. “Thank you for the flowers. I love them,” she said, hugging Stevie. She tried to catch Lukas’s eye but he was very busy studying his feet. Or something. “So, did you take all your stuff to your new house?”

“Yep. Can I tell you a secret?” Stevie asked with a covert grin.

He stood up and walked around to the end of the couch and leaned over so he could whisper in Sam’s ear. “I wish we could stay here with you.”

Something cracked in her chest. Oh heck, it must’ve been her heart. She drew Stevie close and patted his back. “Hey, you’re going to love your new place. And I get to do your room, remember? Black with flames?”

“Okay, Bud, we’d better head out,” Lukas said. “Sam, can I get you anything before we go?”

“You know, I’d love a glass of water. Thanks, Lukas.”

“So how’s Bobby doing,” Stevie said, copping a feel of the satiny corners of his blanket between his thumb and forefinger.

“He’s coming through it okay,” Sam said, holding Bobby up so Stevie could see and approve of the patched parts. “Do you want to take him tonight or have me work on him some more?”

This time Sam caught Lukas’s eye from across the room. He was staring at her kind of funny. Probably just grateful at what she was doing for Stevie. Yep, that was all. Nothing else far mushier than that, like,
you are making this little boy so happy.

Stevie considered his decision as he leaned on the sofa arm, one hand under his chin, which was quite possibly the cutest thing she’d ever seen. Her heart twisted again.

Stevie fingered his beloved. “How about surgery’s done for today and we can do more tomorrow?” he asked. “Bobby says he wants to come home with me tonight.”

“Almost bedtime, Stevie.” Lukas gave her a lingering look, one that said maybe he was wishing for a whole other kind of bedtime. Sam felt a blush start at her neck and work its way up “Guess we’ll be heading out. Thank Sam for the work she’s done on Bobby.”

Stevie did thank her, and took Bobby. Lukas brought her a glass of water so she wouldn’t have to get up for a while. “I’ll check in with you in the morning. Is that okay?”

“Really, I’m fine. That’s not necessary,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “But thanks, guys, for the pretty flowers.” She waved and blew kisses (to Stevie) until the door closed and she was left alone in the darkening house.

Sam shivered. It suddenly felt colder in the room with Lukas and Stevie gone. A crazy part of her wanted to push herself off the couch and run after them. Cry out,
Don’t go! I belong with you, both of you.
Even though she’d made it clear to Lukas that the opposite was true.

She looked around at the framed photographs she’d brought with her and set up on the shelves of the Donaldsons’ big bookcases. There was a photo from long ago of all of her siblings with their mom and dad at the beach. All the boys were wearing swim trunks and were grinning widely into the camera. Her mom was on one side, smiling at her father, who held Sam, a three year old, in his big strong arms. She had on a ruffly bathing suit and a sun hat and she was waving a plastic sand shovel. Her dad was looking at her mom, a joyful smile on his face.

Effie had said love was simple. It certainly looked simple in that photograph. A moment of joy, a family moment, a glimpse of the love between two people. Why did her own life seem so complicated in comparison?

She picked up Lukas’s camera, which he’d left on the coffee table, and pushed some buttons until she figured out how to flip through today’s pictures. There was Stevie hamming it up with James, happy smiles on their sweet faces. Effie and Alethea. Ben with the boys. And photo after photo of her.

She always looked terrible in photos, always grinning uncomfortably, never photogenic like her beautiful mother or like Jess, who’d never met a camera that didn’t caress her loveliness. But creative soul that he was, Lukas had captured her image—her
spirit
—with amazing artistry. The light, the angles, and okay, the many shots, had captured her laughing, frowning, joking, flirting. No cut-and-dry poses here. These were like a love letter. Before she knew it, she was crying
again
.

A knock on the door made her set down the camera. The tiny ball of turmoil that was ping-ponging all over her insides dissipated for a moment and she nearly jumped up in anticipation. All she could think was
he came back.

The door opened. “Surprise!” Harris said with a huge smile, striding across the room to give her an enormous bouquet of red roses and a kiss. “Brad called and told me about your ankle, so I left early to be with you.”

She plastered on a grin that she didn’t really feel and kissed him back. Reminded herself harshly that Lukas was a fantasy, like Jess and all her athlete guys. Harris was the tried-and-true choice, and he’d clearly come back early because he was worried about her.

Then why was she so miserable? And what was she going to do about sleeping with him tonight?

The next morning, Lukas dropped Stevie off at Meg and Ben’s for a day trip to the zoo, with all the cousins, that they’d kindly invited Stevie to. Then Meg’s grandmother Gloria and her husband Maurice were going to watch the kids during tonight’s big donor dinner.

Lukas chatted with Meg and Ben for a few minutes, thanked them, then headed over to check on Sam. He hadn’t slept well—again—and he was anxious to talk with her. Being without her in his own place felt . . . wrong. He wanted to tell her that, and other things too. On impulse, he stopped at Mona’s and picked up a couple of giant cinnamon rolls and coffee. Maybe they could sit outside again and enjoy the lake and have breakfast together.

The looks she gave him, the smiles, the warm, wonderful feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he was around her—he couldn’t be imagining them. All he had to do was find the words to tell her how much she meant to him. Tell her they could work it out. There had to be a way.

At the top of the Donaldsons’ drive, a red beacon gleamed in the sun like a huge stop sign. As he approached, he saw it was Harris’s Maserati.

His heart full-on screeched to a halt.
Calm down, calm down
, he told himself.
Don’t jump to conclusions.

But come on, what other conclusion was there? It wasn’t even 9:00 yet.

He sat there for a few minutes, blinking in the bright sunshine. Willing the car away. But it was not a mirage, and the god-awful thing didn’t budge.

He’d lost her. Harris had clearly driven in from some-fucking-where and had stayed the night. With Sam.

It was like six years ago, when he’d seen them Christmas caroling together. Kissing. Only this was so much worse.