by Elena Aitken
And that’s when, for the first time in her entire life, Missy Branson’s heart exploded with love.
Staring at Lucas’s badly broken nose in profile, she sighed.
This wasn’t just physical desire. Or desperation for attention. Or the hope that someone would like her. Or the pathetic need to feel connected to someone. This was love. This was the act of her heart choosing his. It had to be, because she’d felt all the rest before, and this was new. This was different, and for just a second it made her feel breathless and beautiful.
Margit slunk away, and Lucas returned Missy’s gaze, running his thumb gently back and forth against her wrist. He smiled at her, and his was, hands down, the most captivating smile she’d ever seen.
She never, ever wanted to look away.
Chapter 4
Lucas stared back at Missy, marveling at the transformation in her expression as he stood up for her. It made him feel like a king, like a god, like someone handsome and upstanding and worthy of goodness in his life. Despite beating a man almost to death, despite spending three years incarcerated, despite failing his little sister and having a face that would spoil milk, the look of admiration and approval in Missy Branson’s big blue eyes made Lucas Flynn feel like second chances were possible. Nothing showy or complicated. A little happiness, like what his folks had before his Pop passed away. He had a faint, fleeting memory of his father’s protective arm over his mother’s shoulders as his Pop’s gruff voice shared the secret to happiness: It’s a simple recipe, son: A lot of good. A lot of loving. A little hard work.
He looked at the beautiful woman across the table from him, holding her hand gently. “No one has a right to treat you bad, Missy.”
Missy flinched, dropping his eyes.
“How can you live in this town?” he asked her, feeling the wonder in his voice. “How do you stand it?”
She drew her hand back and unwrapped her straw, plopping it into her soda. “I’m a waitress. I live with my mother. I’ve got savings, but not much. Where am I going to go?”
“Anywhere’s got to be better than this.”
“Like where?”
“Kitten, I hate to tell you, but they need waitresses everywhere. Bozeman, Livingston, Great Falls. Helena. Billings, for God’s sake!”
Her eyes were sparkling, and her lips tilted up tentatively. “Kitten?”
He grinned at her, feeling like a giddy teenager. “If I had a blond-haired, blue-eyed girlfriend from Gardiner, I’d definitely call her Kitten.”
She giggled softly, and he swore he’d call her Kitten a hundred times a day until the end of time if she’d smile at him like that forever.
“I’ve never been to Billings,” she confessed, cheeks blushing prettily.
“Billings is great,” said Lucas. “It’s only a few hours away!”
“They have skyscrapers there.”
“Yes, they do.”
“And an orchestra.”
An orchestra. Huh. He hadn’t expected her to say that. Her face was lit by a light inside, and her eyes were dreamy. He wanted to know more.
“What else do they have in Billings?”
“So much. Um, let’s see…museums!” she said, tilting her head to the side and smiling, her face flushing further as her voice filled with warmth. “And every month there’s something special going on. Like, right now? They have a Festival of Trees and, um, they have a Christmas Stroll coming up. We just had one in Gardiner, but ours is way smaller.”
“What else?” he asked her.
“Oh, um, they have lots of movie theaters. You’d like that, right? And microbreweries!” she exclaimed. “More than any other city in Montana!”
He couldn’t stop looking at her, loving the transformation in her face, her voice, her mood, as she talked about Billings like it was New York City. Is this how she’d be if she could get away from Gardiner? Bubbly, open and adorable?
“What else?”
She shrugged, looking down at the table, grinning like she had a secret.
“Come on. You’ve done your research. I know there’s more! What else?”
“Well, don’t laugh…”
“I’m not laughing. I’m stunned that the nice girl I took out to dinner happens to be an authority on a city she’s never visited.”
She chucked, then said, “They have a zoo.”
Of all the answers he’d thought she might give, that one hadn’t come close to making the list. “A…zoo.”
“Have you ever been to one?”
“Sure. But you have Yellowstone in your backyard. What do you need with a zoo?”
She gave him a brief dressing-down with a roll of her eyes, apparently disappointed that he didn’t immediately understand the appeal and merits of a zoo. “Does Yellowstone have tigers? Red Panda bears? It does not. But Montana Zoo does. And something else besides.” She took a deep breath, searching his eyes. “It has a preschool.”
“A preschool,” he repeated. He was lost now. But utterly fascinated.
“The Zooschool Preschool.” She grinned. “Remember when you asked me before? What I wished for? Well, if I could be anyone, in the entire world, I’d teach little kids at the Zooschool Preschool in Billings. I swear I’d be happy the rest of my life.”
“Is that the wish you made? On Friday night?”
“I never told you I made one.”
“Call it a hunch. I’m guessing you did.”
“Whether I did or didn’t, it won’t come true, so it doesn’t matter.” That soft dreamy look that Lucas had so been loving faded. “Anyway, I’m sure you need a college degree to be a preschool teacher, and I never went to college. I barely finished high school. It’d be silly to waste a wish on a dream like that.”
“You make me sad, Kitten,” he said softly, wishing it was within his power to help make her dreams come true.
“You make me happy, Lucas,” she said, giving him a small smile.
They sat quietly, then, staring deeply into one another’s eyes, so taken with one another that when Margit returned to take their orders, they barely noticed how greatly her attitude had improved.
Missy kept her gloves off on the walk home because she wanted to feel the skin of her palm pressed up against the skin of Lucas’s. They walked slowly and she hoped it was because he’d had as good a time as she—that he liked her even half as much as she liked him.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“Two things, actually.”
“Okay, two things.”
“First, what happened with your sister? And second, who do I remind you of?”
He sighed, adjusting then readjusting his fingers to lace them through hers. “My sister is dead.”
Missy gasped, stopping in her tracks, jerking as if someone had punched her in the chest. “No,” she whispered disbelievingly.
He turned back toward her, staring at her in the soft glow offered by the streetlight over their heads. She saw the pain in his eyes and it twisted her heart.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Missy took his other hand in hers, holding it, waiting for him to tell her more.
“She was six years younger than me and our Pop died when she was just a baby. My Mom checked out after that, working long hours, never around, drinking too much when she was. I moved out when Jody was twelve, so she didn’t really have anyone, I guess. She always dated these rough, jerky guys who were a lot older than her. She started dating Roy when she was eighteen and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t the first guy who slapped her around.
“I didn’t like him, and I didn’t think he was very nice to her, but he was older and had a little money. She moved into his condo, which was a lot nicer than the place she shared with my Mom. When I asked her about the bruises, Jody said she loved him and begged me to leave it alone. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I stayed out of it. Biggest regret of my life.
“Anyway, she showed up at my job one night about four years ago. Guy fro
m the ticket booth came and got me. Her lip was split, her nose was broken, and she could barely move her arm because her collar bone was busted. I’d never seen anything like the raw meat that was my sister’s face. I lost it. I went ballistic. I went over to their place and I beat Roy within an inch of his life. Jody was actually the one who ended up calling the cops on me.” He looked down. “I ended up in the state pen for aggravated assault. While I was in there, she married him. It’s sad but typical. Most women return to their abuser. It’s a vicious cycle.”
Missy swallowed painfully. Lucas raised his eyes and they slammed into hers. His were so full of sorrow, so full of regret, she winced, bracing herself for whatever he was going to say next.
“He beat her to death one night,” Lucas said, “while I was in prison.”
“Oh, God. Oh, no, Lucas…”
“I shouldn’t be with you,” he said suddenly, dropping her hand to crack his knuckles as he scuffed his shoe on the sidewalk. “I couldn’t even save my sister. I’m an ex-con. I’ve got next to nothing, Missy. A crappy room and a crappy job. I’m ugly as sin. I’m—”
“Stop!” She raised her hands to his cheeks and held them there until he looked at her. “You’re wonderful,” she said in a clear, soft voice, stepping forward until her chest pressed up against his, wanting so badly to comfort him. “You hurt someone who was hurting her. You tried to save her. You did your time. You’re getting back on your feet. You’ll make something of yourself, Lucas. I know it. You’re not bad, you’re good. I believe in you…and—and from where I’m standing…you’re beautiful.”
He shuddered; actually shuddered against her, as she finished speaking. His arms came around her and his lips found hers in the dim light, more urgent than last time, fierce and possessive. He held her tightly, finally drawing back to rest his forehead on hers as a light falling snow dotted his dark hair.
“I’m going to make something of myself, Missy,” he promised, pulling back so she could see his face. “I’m not staying here forever, working as a short-order cook. No, ma’am. I’m going to make something of myself.”
Missy nodded once, leaning forward to kiss him before laying her cheek on his shoulder. But the sudden agony in her heart took her breath away.
I’m not staying here forever.
She was incredibly stupid to not have realized it sooner, but he’d be leaving Gardiner as soon as he got back on his feet. He’d leave her and go somewhere amazing like Helena or Billings, and she’d be left behind as she always was. Because that’s what men did: took what they wanted from her and moved on.
Missy could feel the heat of his body rising from his shoulder, warming her cheek, and she clenched her jaw. She was used to taking what she was offered and making do. She was used to taking scraps of kindness, feeling grateful, even if she had to pay for them with her body. She was used to being used, feeling sad and disappointed.
But she wasn’t used to anger. It surprised her to feel it bubble up inside. She wished she’d never met Lucas Flynn. She wished he’d never spoken to her at all, never showed her something beautiful, something different. The others had been clear. They’d let her know their designs from the start. But, Lucas had been sweet and polite. He’d gotten to know her a little. They’d made the emotional connection she’d craved all her life and it still wasn’t enough. I’m not staying here forever. He was already planning to leave.
At least you had this, Missy. At least you had this. You can live on this forever.
“You’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever known,” Lucas breathed, clasping her tightly against him.
At least you had this.
Desperately, Missy tried to believe it would be enough, wanting it to be enough, wincing that it wasn’t.
She closed her eyes against the burn of tears and let him walk her the rest of the way home. Like a gentleman, he did not suggest any more than she gave, did not ask to come in—just kissed her cheek sweetly and said he’d see her at work.
Later, alone in her bed, the tears flowed freely as Missy berated herself as an idiot for not seeing the big picture sooner. Lucas was broken and sad, as so many of the others had been, but he wouldn’t be that way forever. He was just like the boys she’d tried to befriend all her life, like all of the other faceless men who’d needed something from her only to leave her used and discarded.
No, that wasn’t true. It wasn’t just the same. While she’d had some modest hopes about connecting with the others, she’d never let herself fall for them. She’d given those boys and men her body.
She’d given Lucas her heart.
Chapter 5
The following evening, as Lucas flipped burgers, he couldn’t stop thinking about Missy.
She’d gotten real quiet after he told her about Jody, and even though she’d let him kiss her goodnight, she’d hurried inside without another word., which confused him because they’d had such a great evening together. At least, he had.
Being with Missy felt better than anything he’d ever known, and he’d sort of hoped she felt the same. She made him feel like he wanted to be a better man. She made him feel like he could make something of himself despite his past. She made him feel like redemption was possible, like by loving Missy, and taking care of her, he could somehow make up for not saving Jody.
Whoa! Whoa. What?
He stared at the burgers in front of him until they started to smoke then flipped them onto buns and hit the bell at the order-up window.
Loving Missy. Love. Did he love her?
He looked through the order-up window to see her wiping down a table distractedly. She was wearing the black and white sweater from last night buttoned up over her uniform. Stu had asked her twice to take it off, but she’d refused, saying she was cold and planned to feel cold until he got her a new dress in her size. That made Lucas smile. When she was angry, she always showed a little extra spirit, just as she had with those assholes and the pitcher of water last week.
But was she only angry about the uniform or was there something else? He had an uncomfortable feeling that something more was wrong and it had to do with him. She’d rushed their goodbye last night and barely looked at him since arriving for work.
Just then, she walked through the kitchen, heading for the loading dock. She had her jacket and gloves on and was going on her break, but she didn’t even glance over at him as she sailed past.
Shoot. What’s going on?
“Supper break, boss, er, uh, Del?”
“Is this gonna be a problem for you?” Del asked, flicking his chin toward the back door.
“No. We’re just—”
“Keep your personal business personal,” advised Del. “You got fifteen minutes, son.”
Lucas threw his apron off over his head and hurried to the back door. When he stepped outside, there she was, hands on the iron railing, looking up at the sky.
“Wishing on another star, Kitten?” he asked softly.
“No point,” she answered, glancing at him, then quickly away.
So we’re back to this. He stood next to her, putting his hand directly next to hers so their pinkie fingers brushed. She moved away, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.
“You never told me who I remind you of,” she evaded.
“My sister.”
“Your sister,” she said in a soft, defeated voice.
Lucas took a deep breath and turned to face her. He’d just said she reminded him of his dead sister. He was going to need to explain that answer, and he owed her the truth.
“The people in this town treat you like garbage, Missy. And man, I hate that so much. But, by some miracle, you didn’t turn hard. It’s not like you’re super confident, but somehow you’re still hopeful, and I like that about you so much. So, yeah. You remind me of her. Because she was still hopeful. I bet even at the end she was probably still hoping Roy’d change.”
Missy lifted her gaze, staring at him with sad, glassy
eyes.
“There is so much goodness in you, Missy. It’s like the goodness meant for a hundred people all got delivered to your heart. I just want to be near you. I just want to keep it safe.”
She winced and shut her eyes tight for a second before opening them up again. They were still shiny, but angry now. Really angry.
“Stop it!” she demanded in a half-sob. “I can’t do this.”
He felt like she had slapped him.
“What do you mean? What can’t you do?”
“I can’t be your bus stop or your—”
Bus stop? “What the hell are you talking about?”
“A bus stop. A place where you hang out for a while before the bus comes and you leave.”
“What are you—I’m not waiting for a bus, Missy. I’m not leaving.”
“Yes, you are. You said it last night. You said you weren’t staying here forever. You’re going to leave to make something of yourself.” A fat tear rolled down her cheek. “You’ll take what you need just like every man does, and then you’ll go. It’s the same. I get it! I’m the bus stop, not the destination. And then the bus will come, and you’ll get on and go and you’ll never look back—”
“STOP!” he yelled, his eyes burning and his nostrils flaring with sadness and pain and fury. He ran his hands through his hair then fisted them by his sides. “That is not true, and it’s not fair. I’m sorry other guys dumped on you and used you and didn’t stick around to figure out how damn wonderful you are, but you’re not my bus stop, you crazy-making woman. You are the destination. You have to believe that.”
“Why? Why do I have to believe it?”
“Because it’s true, damn it. Because you’re searching my eyes like they hold the key to the universe, and you can see it’s true. I’m in this for your heart. I’ll keep it safe. Don’t you see that?”
“Safe! Ha! For how long? For tonight? For a week? For a month? Certainly not forever. One day you’re going to get up and go. And ‘safe’ will be as big a joke as Missy Branson! And I’m going to get hurt, Lucas!” She sobbed softly, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “This time it’s going to hurt!”