by Mara Wells
Knox snorted. “God save us all from what we deserve.” His words were joking, but his eyes darkened with memories. “Besides, it’s not up to you, is it? Only Lance knows if it’s worth the risk.”
“I kept his son from him.” Her fingers danced nervously on the pearl at her dry throat. She tried to swallow, but her tongue stuck at the back of her throat. “How can he ever forgive me? When I think about all the what-ifs, like what if we hadn’t run into each other? How much longer would I have waited?” She inhaled shakily. “Honestly, if the roles were reversed? I don’t know that I could forgive him. What kind of life could we have with that always between us?”
Knox let her sniffle for a moment, then took a few steps toward her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “That’s the thing about forgiveness. It’s not up to you. If you’re truly sorry, tell him.”
“I have, but he’s still angry. I can see it in him sometimes.” She sniffed back more tears and leaned her cheek against Knox’s hand. “And I don’t blame him. I ruined us; before I even knew about Oliver, I walked away.”
“From what Lance has told me, he was kind of an asshole back then. He’s grown up, though. He’s certainly not the jerk I left behind when I enlisted.” Knox shook her shoulder a little until she looked up at him. “The way I see it, if you’re both trying for a better future, what will the past matter?”
Carrie knuckled away a few runaway tears, knowing Knox spoke the truth. Lance was different, and so was she. “I guess at the end of the day, I’m scared. What if we try and it doesn’t work? How will that make Oli feel?”
“Everybody’s scared, Carrie. Why should you be any different?” Knox chucked her chin with his finger and stepped away. “Look, it’s simple. Don’t be an asshole, and everything will work out.”
Carrie bit her lip and stood aside so Knox could reenter the restaurant. She stayed by the dumpster for a long time, waiting for the tears to dry up. It took a while, but she finally sniffled her last sniffle. Determined, she blew her nose and freshened her makeup. Deserving or not, scared or not, she knew what she wanted. And she knew what she had to do. Don’t be an asshole. It was surprisingly good advice.
* * *
Inside Volga, chaos still reigned. She ducked a couple of guys carrying out an old table, searching for Lance’s tall form amid the clutter and rubble. Spotting him at the front, she inhaled deeply and marched forward. Knox gave her a thumbs-up when she passed him, but she didn’t slow down. Once you decide to do a thing, you want the thing to be done as quickly as possible.
“Lance?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She’d started out with a braid, but it had spent the day slowly unraveling. She should’ve taken a minute in the alley to check more than her makeup, but it was too late now. If he was going to say yes, he’d have to take her as she was, imperfections and all.
“Hey.” Lance smiled with a caution that broke her heart. She’d done that to him. Suddenly, the thing she had to do was too scary. She backpedaled into some small talk. The thing could wait. Maybe later, like next week or next month.
“Everything okay?” She clutched her iPad to her chest. “Oli’s fine?”
“Grams and Grandpa William took him fishing today. My guess is he’s better than fine.”
“You told them to use a lot of sunscreen, right? He’s very fair.” She couldn’t help but worry. Intellectually, she understood that other family members loved her son. Emotionally, it was hard to believe anyone would take care of him like she did.
“And his skin is sensitive.” Lance pulled out a phone to show her a picture of Oliver on Grandpa William’s boat. His wide-brimmed hat took up most of the frame. “We covered all the bases.”
“Sorry.” She flinched at the sound of something crashing in the background. Nothing to worry about on a demo day, but still startling. “I worry.”
“I know.” He reached forward, tucking another wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Me, too. How’s Adam?”
Carrie’s eyes knitted together in confusion. “Fine, I guess. Don’t you see him more than I do these days?”
“No more dates? He didn’t tell me.”
“What’s to tell? We were never together anyway.” A drill started up in the background, forcing Carrie to step closer to Lance in order to hear him.
“And you’re not dating anyone else?”
“No, deactivated my online dating accounts.” She shook her head, the final straw for her poorly constructed braid. Hair tumbled over her shoulder. Lance reached for it as if mesmerized, then dropped his hand.
“What about you?” Carrie leaned in to be heard over the demolition noise. When he didn’t answer, she took another step closer. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“What? No.” He canted his head down, and they were so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. Her breath hitched in her lungs. She placed a hand to the center of his chest, and his heart beat wildly against it. “What’re you doing, Carrie?”
His words broke the spell, and she swallowed hard, lowering her hand. “Do you want to see someone?”
He watched her, wariness in his blue eyes. “I have someone in mind.”
“So do I.” She was doing it. She was doing the thing! Her blood pumped louder than the construction around her.
“For me?” Wariness turned to curiosity, then back to wariness. “You’re setting me up?”
“I think you’ll like her.” Carrie smiled, really smiled. It felt good to know what she wanted, but this was not the place. Noise and sawdust, a lot of curious eyes. She had a better idea. “Come by my place tonight. I’ll introduce you.”
Lance took a moment, scanning their surroundings, before his eyes came back to her. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, Carrie. I don’t want to play games.”
She placed her hand back on his chest. His heart still beat a crazy rhythm. “I’m not playing. Come over.”
He covered her hand with his own, flattening her palm against the warm plane of his chest under the thin T-shirt. “See you tonight.”
Chapter 35
“Thanks, again.” Carrie fiddled with the rope belt at the waist of her floral maxi dress. It wasn’t her usual style, but she was tired of her usual self. Her usual self made a lot of bad decisions. Tonight, she needed to be someone different, someone braver. Someone who wasn’t an asshole.
“Believe me, it’s my pleasure.” Riley sat on Carrie’s couch, a lapful of poodle and Jack Russell jockeying for her attention. Although she petted each dog with a separate hand, each eyed the other hand enviously. “I’ll take good care of your boys.”
Carrie slipped on the espadrilles she’d bought with the dress. She hadn’t quite been able to let go of her stiletto obsession, but the braided espadrilles provided a stable platform. She could walk for days. It was a different kind of powerful.
“I’m so nervous.” Carrie and Riley’s friendship was still new, but the words burst out anyway.
Riley scratched both dogs under their respective chins. “You don’t need to be. He’s crazy about you.”
“You think?” Carrie alighted on the sofa’s arm, then quickly stood again, so much energy coursing through her that she didn’t know what to do with herself. She double-checked the contents of her evening purse—phone, money, ID, lip gloss, keys. Then she tripled-checked, like her purse might’ve accidentally emptied itself in the three seconds since her last inspection.
“I know.” Riley kicked off her flip-flops and folded her legs onto the couch, crisscross applesauce style.
Carrie jumped at the knock on the door. “Do I look okay?”
“You are one gorgeous woman, and you know it. Go open the door already.” Riley shooed her away. “We’ve got hours of Animal Planet to watch.”
“I love Animal Planet,” Oliver yelled from his room, his words arriving a few seconds before he did. Dressed in
his fire engine pajamas, he padded barefoot to the couch and lifted himself to a seat beside Riley.
“Everyone loves Animal Planet.” Riley clicked on the TV. “Meerkat Manor. Aren’t we lucky?”
Oliver clapped his hands. “I love meerkats.”
Riley transplanted Beckham from her lap to his. “Who doesn’t?”
Carrie took a deep breath. Oli was in excellent hands. She should relax. She rolled her shoulders and opened the door. The moment of truth. She’d practiced what to say all day. She couldn’t remember any of the words now. “Hi.”
Lance cocked his head. “Hi.”
She looked at him, specifically the center of his chest where muscle pushed against the athletic-fit blue T-shirt. Her hand raised and placed itself there, palm between his pecs, measuring the beat of his heart. It sped up, and her own heart did the same.
“Carrie? Is everything okay?”
She wrenched her eyes up to meet his and nodded. “Can we go outside?”
“Sure.” He stepped back, making room for her on the front stoop. “You’re worrying me. Is Oli okay?”
She nodded.
“Beckham?”
She swallowed. She really needed some words. She could see the panic rising in his eyes. “Everything’s fine. Everyone’s fine.”
“Did the mystery date not show?” He was still looking for problems.
Carrie clasped her hands in front of her before they did anything else without her consent. “I’ve decided to start dating again.”
Lance’s face fell. This wasn’t going at all how she’d imagined it. He was supposed to realize where she was going with this.
She tried again. “Someone special, someone I have a lot of history with.”
Were her hints not clear enough? This was his chance to declare himself again. To ask her out. It would be so much easier if he would take the lead. He didn’t. Because she was being an asshole, putting it all on him.
Lance let out a disappointed sigh. “You said this wasn’t a game.” The telltale muscle in his cheek twitched. “But I am definitely feeling played.”
“Oh, uh.” Wow, what happened to all her people skills? She’d never felt so tongue-tied in her life. She needed to do the thing, but she was so scared her legs trembled.
“Carrie, what the hell is going on?” Lance took a step back, crossing protective arms over his chest. His biceps bulged under the thin sleeves.
She tore her gaze away from his body, choosing to study the overhead light on her patio instead. Lots of dead bugs in there. She’d need to clean it soon. Enough distraction. She took a long, deep breath.
“You’re freaking me out.” Lance drummed nervous fingers on the railing. “Just say it.”
She wrung her hands, like some kind of damsel in distress from an old movie. “I’m sorry. I’m doing this badly.”
“Yes.” He snorted. “Whatever this is.”
“Lance?” She dropped her hands to her side. Open body language, open heart. “Will you go out with me tonight?”
“What?” He was so startled he took another step back, which took him off the stoop and down the first step. Once he slipped the one step, he kept on going, arms flailing, until he caught the railing. At the bottom, he righted himself, staring up the four steps at her. “What did you say?”
“Let’s go on a date. Tonight.” Her hands clasped her skirt. She knew she was wrinkling the fabric, but she couldn’t care about that. Not now, when her whole future seemed to hinge on the next word out of his mouth.
“Say yes!” Riley stood by the front window, glass cranked open, huge grin across her face. “You know you want to.”
“Riley?” Lance’s confusion had him leaning against the railing like he couldn’t stand on his own. “What’re you doing here?”
“Babysitting, what else?” Riley stuck out her tongue at him. “If you’d say yes already.”
“Say yes!” Oliver’s face appeared in the window and disappeared. “Yes, yes, yes!” He jumped up and down until Riley finally caught him and held him in place.
Lance shook his head, hair flipping back and forth, like he was trying to clear an Etch A Sketch. “Why should I say yes?”
Carrie sent a desperate look Riley’s way. Riley nodded and pulled Oliver out of the window, giving them some privacy. Carrie took a step down, then another. She stopped on the step above Lance, so they were the same height for once.
“Say yes so we can start over. Say yes so we can go on a date. A real date. An intentional date. You and me.”
“Why?” His voice was hoarse, his hands fisted at his sides.
He was going to make her say it, say it right now, and that was fair. He’d put it all out there for her, and she’d sent him away. Why should he make it easy for her now?
“Because I love you. I’ve always loved you.” Her voice trembled as the words, so raw and broken, escaped her in a rush. She waited for them to land, to see what he would do. If he rejected her, it was no more than she deserved after all she’d put him through. She held her breath, held it until she felt she would explode.
Then his mouth was on hers, filling her lungs with his own breath. She drank him up, pressing herself as close as she could get. He held her so tight, her feet lifted off the stair like she was levitating.
“Do you mean it?” He pulled away, just far enough to ask the question.
“Yes. Oli loves you, too.” She rained light kisses on his lips. “Lance, let’s be a family.”
“Yes.” He picked her up and spun her around before kissing her again. “Yes, please.”
Riley and Oliver cheered from the window, but Lance didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy spiriting her to his truck. She turned and blew Oliver a kiss.
“Where are we going?” Carrie asked as Lance hoisted her into the passenger’s seat.
He kissed her while buckling her in. “Does it matter?”
“No.” She laughed, holding his precious face in her hands. “I’ll go anywhere with you.”
“Even back to the altar?”
“Even that.”
Epilogue
Lance swallowed hard, inspecting the judge’s chamber one more time before the ceremony. He knew Carrie waited on the other side of that thick wooden door, and he wanted to be sure that all the details were precisely right. Dahlias everywhere a dahlia could be put? Check. Paperwork signed, guests assembled, soft music playing in the background? Check, check, check.
“Second time’s a charm.” This time, instead of Caleb sitting in the back row of a florally exploded church, he stood at the front of the makeshift aisle, dressed to the nines in an expensive suit, Lance’s and Carrie’s rings tucked into his right trouser pocket.
“I hope so.” Beside him, Lance fidgeted more than his son, Oliver, who he held by the hand. They wore matching blue suits, white shirts open at the throat, and brown shoes so shiny they glinted in the light.
“Still can’t believe you’re getting married before me.” Caleb nudged Lance with his shoulder, but Lance didn’t budge.
He cracked a forced smile. “You’re here. Riley’s here. Why not jump in? I’m sure the judge will give us a two-for-one special, right, Your Honor?”
Judge Connor chuckled but didn’t look up from inspecting the paperwork on his desk.
“Grams would kill us.” Across the makeshift aisle, Riley stood, a pink swirl of a dress wrapped around her as tightly as Beckham’s leash was tied around her wrist.
“I would.” Grams agreed from her seat next to Grandpa William. “And think of poor Patty. She’s so been looking forward to your wedding.”
Grandpa William patted Grams’ hand where it rested on the arm of the office chair. It was a good thing that, in addition to the wedding party, they only had the five guests, because four chairs were exactly how many the judge had in his chamber. Mendo
sat in one, thrilled at the turn of events and the success of his groveling advice. Christine sat next to him, already taking photos to share with Robert when she visited him later that week. The last seat remained empty, awaiting Sherry’s arrival.
Knox stood on Lance’s other side in his Marine dress blues. He even had a matching brace for his leg.
“I’m only marrying people with actual marriage licenses today. But feel free to come back anytime with your own.” Judge Connors smiled as he circled the desk, taking his spot between them in his black robes. He held a small book in front of him and gazed expectantly at the door.
Lance and Carrie might have opted for a small wedding, but Carrie had insisted on a bit of ceremony. The judge’s chamber door swung open slowly, and Carrie stood outlined in light.
Lance couldn’t look away. At their first wedding, Carrie’d worn an elaborate, beaded gown with a veil that had obscured her face. Today, she wore a simple white summer dress with her signature gravity-defying heels. Her hair streamed around her, a few flowers pinned into the dark tresses. She was, in a word, stunning. He certainly felt stunned. His breath caught in his throat, and he couldn’t breathe again until, gripping her mother’s arm tightly, she completed the handful of steps to the judge.
Sherry transferred Carrie’s smooth hand to his sweaty one. She smiled up at him, and his lungs started functioning again.
“You okay?” Carrie smiled up at him, too, her hazel eyes filled with love and concern.
“I’m perfect.” He knew it was too soon in the ceremony, but he couldn’t help himself. He dropped a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re perfect.”
Her lips clung to his, and he suddenly wished it were all over. The judge and the vows and the fancy lunch Dimitri Orlov insisted on providing at Volga. Lance wanted to start his life with Carrie right now.
He’d trembled at their first wedding, jitters about what he was getting himself into. Was he doing the right thing? He trembled today, too, but from excitement. There was no doubt in his mind that Carrie was the woman for him. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her. “Are we getting married, or what?”