She shouldn’t factor into his decision.
Rationally, he knew that.
But all day as he’d worked repairing fences and fixing equipment, he’d wavered back and forth. It seemed so unfair that choosing one thing he loved would mean giving up the other.
But he couldn’t see any way around it.
Unless Sophie would be willing to stay here. With him.
Three times already tonight, he’d almost asked her. But every time, he’d chickened out.
He should ask her now, while they were standing wrapped together like this. But if he asked, he might shatter this moment. And it was too perfect to risk that.
Instead, he leaned toward her ear. “What are you thinking about?”
She shivered against him, and he wrapped her tighter.
“I was just thinking about that time we camped with Vi and Cade, do you remember?”
He nodded his head against hers, letting her hair caress his cheek. “I remember.” His voice was soft with the memory.
Sophie had insisted she could never sleep in a tent, but she’d proved to be more outdoorsy than any of them had given her credit for. The two of them had sat up around the fire long after Violet and Cade had called it a night, talking softly about the past. And the future.
When they’d started yawning, they’d pulled their sleeping bags out of their tents and laid down next to each other to talk some more. As the fire’s embers died, Spencer grabbed her hand, finally working up the courage to tell her the words that had been burning him from the inside out for weeks. “Sophie, I love you.”
At first, she didn’t move, didn’t respond at all, and he thought she was trying to figure out how to let him down easy.
“I just wanted you to know,” he added, kicking himself for not waiting to tell her. He knew it was too soon. That he had spooked her.
But then she rolled toward him, and in the firelight, he saw it in her eyes—she felt the same way. She wrapped her arms around him. And that was all he needed.
They stayed like that until she fell asleep. But Spencer laid awake for a long time, watching her. He had never been happier—or more terrified—than when he realized the depths of his feelings for her as she slept curled up next to him.
In the morning, he woke to find her watching him. “I do, too, you know.” Her hair was mussed, and she had a groove in her cheek from sleeping on the ground all night, but she’d never looked more beautiful.
He pressed a kiss to her lips, his heart a mess of joy and hope and a knot of fear that he would never be able to give her the life she deserved.
“I’m never going to stop loving you,” he’d promised in that moment.
She’d cocked her head to the side, as if trying to work out the meaning of the word never.
“Not until forever?” she’d asked.
“Not even then.”
It was a promise he’d kept in spite of his best efforts not to over the past five years, he realized now. A promise he couldn’t break if he tried.
“Soph.” His voice barely worked.
“My parents still think I spent that weekend in Cancun with Vi.” She laughed lightly.
She may as well have doused him with lake water. He loosened his grip around her shoulders and walked to the opposite edge of the pier.
Her parents.
She’d never told them about him. Obviously, she’d never been serious about him. About a future together.
“Spencer?” Sophie edged closer. “What’s wrong?”
The lights of a small craft slid past the rocky breakwater, the soft chugging of its engine followed by the slap of its wake against the rocks.
He should forget it. Her family life was her family life, and he obviously would never be part of it. “Nothing. We should go.”
“What? No.” The desperation in her voice froze him. “Please tell me what it is.”
He rounded on her. The last flickers of sunlight reflected off her eyes, and he had to look away. “Why didn’t you ever tell your parents about me?”
“What?” Her brow wrinkled and her mouth dropped into a confused frown.
“My parents were ready to welcome you into our family when I proposed. And here you had never even mentioned me to yours. You introduced me to them as a classmate the other day. A classmate. Is that all I was to you?” He could feel the sneer twisting his lips. “Or are you too ashamed to tell them you dated a farmer? That he wanted to marry you?” He broke off, his breath coming in short gasps.
Sophie’s sharp inhale told him he’d hit his mark.
Her hand fell on his arm, but he jerked away and stepped back. She wasn’t going to get out of this with a soft touch.
Sophie lowered herself to sit on the pier, her legs dangling over the side, a foot or two above the water that had darkened to ink. Spencer peered into the bruised blue of the sky, trying to figure out how he’d let the night go so wrong. And yet, if this was going to work, she had to be real with him. They both had to be real.
She gestured for him to sit next to her. He watched the spot where her elegant fingers patted the rough boards. He should walk away right now. Protect his heart from any more damage.
But heaven help him, he couldn’t bear to leave her looking so vulnerable and . . . unsure. Two words he never would have used to describe the Sophie he used to know.
He sat, kicking his own legs over the side of the pier.
When she was silent for a full five minutes, he finally looked at her. She was twisting the ring on her finger again.
“What is it?” He broke the silence.
She startled as if she’d forgotten he was there and followed the direction of his stare. “An amethyst. Nana gave it to me before . . .”
Three heartbeats of silence.
When she continued, her voice was stronger. “When she gave it to me, she told me that if I ever found love, I should hold on to it. But Spencer—”
She lifted her eyes to his, and he had to catch his breath.
“I was afraid. I am afraid.” She tore her eyes away and squinted toward the horizon. “I’m not ashamed of you, Spencer.” Her sigh floated on the wind. “I’m just—” She pressed her lips together.
Spencer waited, giving her room to gather her thoughts.
“My brother was planning to work with my parents, did you know that?”
Spencer shook his head but slid a fraction closer.
“Mom and Dad were so devastated to lose him that I just sort of tried to fill in for him, you know?”
Spencer lifted his head to watch her. She’d only been ten when her seventeen-year-old brother had died. That was a lot of pressure for a little girl to put on herself.
Her forehead wrinkled. “But my grades were never as good as his, and I was never an athlete, and I was terrible at music. I could tell my parents were disappointed with my efforts all the time.”
“Oh, Soph.” He slid the rest of the distance between them and wrapped an arm around her. How had she never told him this before?
“Is that why you went into real estate?” He gently turned her to face him.
The creases in her brow deepened. “I never really thought about it, but I guess so.” She chewed her lip. “I confess I was hurt when they didn’t offer me the job they were planning to give Jordan. Even though I probably wouldn’t have taken it if they had. I wanted to show them what I could achieve on my own.”
She shook her head. “Which doesn’t answer your question about why I never told them about you. About us.”
“You don’t have to—”
She pressed a finger to his lips, and he couldn’t have said anything more even if all the words he’d ever learned hadn’t just flocked from his head in a mass exodus.
“I think.” She turned the words over slowly. “I was worried that they wouldn’t approve of you.” Her fingers brushed back and forth over the worn wood of the pier. He tried to ignore the gut punch of her words. He’d been right after all.
But sh
e grabbed his hand in both of hers, and he had to look at her. “I was afraid you wouldn’t approve of them. Wouldn’t like them.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “And then you would all stop approving of me. Would stop loving me.”
His heart opened wide, and he wanted to wrap her in it. Had she really thought anything could make him stop loving her?
“Soph.” He lifted her chin until she had no choice but to meet his eyes. “My love for you was never conditional. You never had to earn it.” Her eyes closed, and he waited for them to open again. He needed her to know this next part. “You still don’t.”
He slid his arms around her neck and brought his lips to hers, letting the knowledge that he still loved her wash over them both.
In the distance, a boat’s horn sounded a warning, but they ignored it.
Chapter 26
Sophie sat upright in the passenger seat of Spencer’s truck as he drove toward her parents’ house. It was late—the clock on the dashboard showed well past midnight—but she was anything but sleepy. Every fiber of her being zinged with the awareness of Spencer’s nearness. It scared her, her desire to be with him, but it also exhilarated her. His strong hand intertwined with her fingers.
She felt warm, protected.
Loved.
It was a feeling she’d missed. A feeling she’d longed for without realizing it.
She squeezed Spencer’s hand, and he offered her that soft smile that made her stomach flip as if caught in a wave. He squeezed back.
For the fifth time, she opened her mouth to tell him she still loved him, too. But the same fear that had held her back the first time seemed to have clamped down on her vocal cords.
“Spencer?”
“Hmm.” He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss onto her palm.
She closed her eyes. He was making this so easy for her. So why was it so hard?
“There’s something I want to tell you.”
He waited, and it took her three tries to swallow. She was going to say it this time.
But instead of the I love you she wanted to say, what came out was, “Why didn’t you come after me?”
Spencer’s head jerked toward her. “What?”
Sophie stared out the windshield. She could feel his gaze swiveling from her to the road and back again.
“That day. When you asked me to marry you. You didn’t try to stop me when I left. You never called me. Never came after me.” Her voice broke, but she pushed on. “Was I not worth it?”
She knew she wasn’t being fair. His father had been sick. He’d had a lot to worry about. And she was the one who had walked away from him.
But still, she’d waited for his call begging her to reconsider. Telling her they didn’t have to get married but that he still wanted to be with her. But it had never come.
The truck slowed, and Spencer pulled onto the shoulder, bringing it to a stop.
She shifted to look at him. “What are you doing?”
He slid the gear into park and flipped on the four-way flashers. “I need you to hear me when I say this.” He angled in his seat so that he was facing her head-on. She felt the need to press toward him and draw back at the same time, but his eyes locked her in place.
He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. “You don’t know how many times I almost called you, almost drove to see you. Not coming after you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” His voice was ragged. “But when I got home and looked around at what I had to offer you, I knew it wasn’t enough. I knew you deserved more. So I let you go.”
His hands slid up her arms, pulling her to him. “It was the biggest mistake I ever made.” His voice was muffled by her hair.
Her arms went around him, too.
This was where she belonged.
With him.
Forever.
The word didn’t scare her anymore.
She lifted her head and brought her lips to his.
Because she knew now.
Her home wasn’t in Hope Springs. Or in Chicago. It was with Spencer. Wherever that took her.
Sophie paced the kitchen, running her fingers along the worn edges of Nana’s journal. She’d read it cover to cover twice already, and the words were so precious to her that she couldn’t wait to go through them a third time. But she knew someone else who needed them more right now.
She’d been waiting for Mom to appear for her morning cup of coffee for twenty minutes already. Maybe she’d missed her. If Mom was working on a big deal, she might have slipped out early.
Sophie couldn’t wait to get on with her day. She’d been so busy cleaning at Nana’s house yesterday that she’d only gotten to see Spencer for a few minutes when he stopped by to help her haul some of the bigger furniture to a local women’s shelter. But they’d made plans for dinner tonight, and she and Vi were going to try to finish up the work at Nana’s before then.
But she couldn’t do any of that until she gave this to Mom.
Sophie eyed the counter. Maybe she should leave the journal there for Mom to find. It’d be easier anyway.
But no, there were things she had to say to Mom. Things she’d promised Spencer she’d say. Things she’d promised herself.
She poured herself another cup and set to pacing again. Finally, the click of Mom’s heels announced her arrival. Sophie filled a second mug and passed it to Mom the moment she entered the room.
Mom eyed the outstretched mug, then took it from her hand, setting it on the counter to doctor it with the raspberry creamer Sophie had gotten out for her.
“Thanks,” Mom finally said after she’d taken her first sip. “To what do I owe such service?”
If Mom noticed that Sophie’s laugh was forced and nervous, she didn’t let on.
“I just thought—” Sophie moved to the table. “I thought we could talk for a few minutes. Maybe?” She gestured toward the other chair, trying not to seem like a little girl seeking her mother’s approval.
Mom’s glance flicked to the clock on the stove. “I have about ten minutes before I absolutely have to leave. We’re placing an offer this morning.”
“That’s great.” Sophie waved a hand, barely listening. She had to clear her head for what she wanted to say.
Mom sat, sipping her coffee. Sophie stared at her mug, gathering her thoughts. Mom tapped her fingers on the table, and Sophie gritted her teeth.
Here went nothing.
“The thing is, Mom, I’ve realized lately how much of my life—how much of my energy—I’ve dedicated to trying to win your approval and Dad’s.”
Mom’s mouth drew into the straight line Sophie had always associated with disapproval, and she quailed.
But she made herself push forward. “I think especially after Jordan—”
Mom sucked in a sharp breath and pushed to her feet.
Sophie slid her chair back and stood, too, blocking the exit. “I know you don’t want to talk about Jordan. Or Nana.”
Mom’s face had gone whiter than the marble countertop.
“But at some point, you’re going to have to face your feelings. Trust me, you can only keep them shoved into a corner of your heart and shut yourself off from the world for so long.” She held out the journal to Mom. “When you’re ready, I think this will help. Nana left it for me, but I think it’s really a love letter to you, too.”
Mom’s lips trembled as she read the cover of the journal. Sophie stepped closer, until Mom had no choice but to take the journal or push Sophie backward.
She took it in a shaky hand.
“And if you ever wanted to talk—about anything—I’m here.” Sophie’s whisper cut through her ache for Mom to wrap her in her arms.
But Mom didn’t move.
Sophie took a step back, blowing out a long breath. She’d said what she’d come to say.
But when she reached the hallway, she realized there was something else she wanted Mom to know.
“I love you, Mom.”
Mom’s silence fol
lowed her down the hall and out the door.
Chapter 27
The diamond was smaller than he remembered, but it still sparkled.
Spencer’s hand trembled slightly as he held the tiny box out in front of him, toward the mirror. The ring had been buried in the bottom of his sock drawer for five years. Could he really present it to her again? Risk her rejection again?
But after the last few days, he knew. She was the woman he was meant to be with, and he wasn’t going to let his fear—or hers—stop him. He would just have to make her see how much he loved her. How he would spend the rest of his life doing anything for her.
Even if it meant leaving the farm he loved.
If that’s what she wanted, he’d give it up in a heartbeat. The farm wasn’t his life.
She was.
“Hey, Spence—”
Spencer snapped the case shut and whirled away from the mirror at the sound of his brother’s voice. But based on the open-mouthed stare Tyler speared him with, he’d been too slow.
“So.” Tyler pushed into the room uninvited and plopped onto Spencer’s bed.
“Come in,” Spencer muttered, shoving the ring box back into his drawer. But when he turned to confront Tyler’s hard glare, he wished he still had something to occupy his hands.
“What?” He didn’t mean to snap, but he hated the mix of pity and understanding Tyler was directing at him.
“You’re not really going to go down that road again, are you?”
“What road?”
Tyler pointed toward the dresser, and Spencer could swear he was using X-ray vision to see right through the wood to the spot where he’d nestled the ring.
Spencer planted his feet in a defensive stance. “I was thinking about it.”
Tyler stood and walked toward the door, then wheeled around and strode toward Spencer. He clapped a brotherly hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Spencer, do you really want to put yourself through that again? Emma told me how hard it was for you to get over that woman the first time and—”
“Her name is Sophie.” Spencer’s fingers clenched into a fist, and his shoulders tensed.
Not Until Forever (Hope Springs Book 1) Page 16