One Thing I Know

by Kara Isaac

  “Rachel!”

  His voice echoed behind her. Proof she was still holding on to delusions. The hotel loomed a block away. A warm bath would be first. Followed by a good cry. She would allow herself just one. Then it was time to move on, navigate whatever lay ahead. Maybe go hide somewhere in Africa for a while.

  “Rachel!”

  “Get behind me, ma’am.” Bruno ushered her with his tree trunk of an arm, unclipped his holster, and pulled out his gun.

  She peered out, mist obscuring her vision.

  “Sir, please don’t come any closer.” Bruno barked the words out as Lucas emerged from the fog.

  Rachel didn’t know if Lucas didn’t hear him or if he just didn’t realize what was going on, but he kept moving toward her and the next thing she knew, Bruno was right in front of her with his gun raised.

  “Whoa.” Lucas slammed to a stop and threw both hands in the air.

  “He’s okay, Bruno. He’s safe!” She put her hand on his arm. “Put your gun down.” Lucas getting accidentally shot. That really would be a fitting ending to this whole saga.

  Lucas’s hair was slicked to his head, he didn’t even have a jacket, and his shirt was soaked through.

  “What on earth are you doing?” She stepped around the guard, who moved a few feet away. But he kept his gun in his hands and watched Lucas like a hawk. A fact that wasn’t missed by either of them.

  “There’s something I need to say.” His voice was rough, like he’d eaten gravel for breakfast.

  “Really? And what could that possibly be?” She took a step back, as if maybe an extra foot might somehow shield her from whatever arrows he had left in his arsenal. “You were pretty clear where we stood a few minutes ago. Crystal, in fact.”

  “I’m sorry. You took me by surprise and I let my pride and ego talk, instead of my heart.” He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up on end.

  The fact that he looked adorable made her even angrier. “How many times do you want me to say I’m sorry, Lucas? I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I’m not who you thought I was. I’m sorry you clearly can’t even stand being in the same room as me. Do you want me to grovel from here to eternity? Because I can’t . . . I won’t . . . do it.” Her coat squelched against her, rain beginning to work its way through the lining. “I’ve spent too long as a living, breathing apology to my father. And look where it’s got me. I’m done.”

  “Rach, I—” They were in between streetlights and she struggled to make out the expression on his face.

  “Spit it out. Because I’d quite like to get a few hours’ sleep before I have to talk about the worst moments of my life to a bunch of reporters tomorrow.”

  At least she still wasn’t on social media. The Twitter trolls could go for their lives and she would never know 99 percent of it.

  He stepped toward her again and this time she didn’t back down. Standing her ground.

  “So, here’s the thing.” He stopped about two feet away, hands fisted in his pockets. His eyes caught hers for a second, then jittered to the ground. “I haven’t been completely honest with you either.”

  “Oh?” She hadn’t been expecting that.

  “I, um . . .” He shuffled, feet splashing in spreading puddles.

  Rain slicked down her neck. Why hadn’t she accepted Bruno’s offer of an umbrella?

  “Do you remember when we were in LA and I was having breakfast with that guy?”

  She cast her mind back, scraping together a scattered memory. “Fat guy with sweaty hands?”

  A quirk of a smile. “His name was Brad Shipman.”

  It was a name she’d heard before but she couldn’t place it. Rachel turned and gestured to the hulk. “You know what, Bruno, I think I will have that umbrella, please.” She was already soaked through, clothes slurping with every movement, but at the pace Lucas was telling his story, she’d be dry again by the time it was over.

  A second later, there was a whoosh as the umbrella popped open and the handle landed in her palm. “Thanks.” Bruno gave a nod and melted away.

  “So Brad, he um, well, you see, the thing is . . .”

  She had to lean forward to try and grasp what Lucas was stuttering. This was ridiculous. She looked up. The umbrella was huge; there was plenty of space for them to both be under it without it getting cozy.

  She took a couple of steps and thrust the umbrella into his startled hands. “Don’t read anything into it. I just can’t hear whatever the heck it is you’re attempting to spit out. So go: the thing with Brad is?”

  He took a jagged breath and looked down at her. “Brad Shipman is a big producer in LA. Kind of like the Simon Cowell of radio. So he came to me just after Donna—you—whoever—started coming on the show and offered me my own show with him, with a chance at syndication if it went well.”

  Foreboding curled in her stomach as the name connected with the past. “Donna got a Brad Shipman fired at our publisher. She said he was a lecherous creep. Please tell me it’s not the same guy.”

  He tugged at the neck of his T-shirt with his free hand. “I didn’t know any of that when he approached me.”

  There was more. She could tell by the way Lucas diverted his gaze. “How is this connected to me?”

  “His offer of the show came with a catch.”

  She tilted her head, studied his face. “What kind of a catch?”

  “He was convinced Donna had a big secret. Something that would destroy her. To get the show I had to find out what it was, or else convince him he was wrong.” Lucas finally looked at her again, his gaze wretched.

  It was like someone had just scratched a fingernail down the blackboard of the universe. She stared at him, every synapse in her body firing a million messages. A sensation that she would hazard a guess was close to being Tasered. “All those odd questions about her. You were . . .”

  He sighed, nodding. “Trying to find out if there was a secret. I never guessed, not for a second, that it was you. You have to understand, it looked like Scott was going to lose the ranch. The money that Brad offered . . .” He blew a breath out. “It was enough to fix everything.”

  Memories stormed her mind. The ribs delivery in Houston. The party in LA. The Thai dinner. That whole time he’d just been . . . using her. Playing her to get information. The way he’d looked at her had made her feel like she mattered. It had all been make-believe. The truth ripped her breath away. Tore her soul down the seam and surfaced every bit of pain and hurt she’d been carrying her whole life.

  Rachel forced the hurt down. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of making any more of a fool of herself. Bad enough she’d already done it on the dedication page. For him to have forever.

  “Well, I guess congratulations are in order.” She spoke to his chin. If she looked him in the eye, it would all be over. “You got me, Lucas. I thought I was good at playing the double game, but you, you win. Congratulations on your new job. When do you start?”

  She stepped back. He’d played her, and yet some insane part of her still wanted him to find a way to say something, anything, to give her a reason to hope they could find a way through. She just needed to get away from here, from him.

  His fingers landed on her forearm and curled around it.

  “Get your hands off me.”

  “Rachel, please.” There was something in his voice that caused her to look up and find herself engulfed in his eyes.

  She wrenched her arm out of his hand and looked away. “There’s nothing left to say. I, of all people, get prostituting your conscience to pay the bills. Is that why you’re so mad at me? Because we’ve just beat you to it? What was the plan? To wait for the next book and then do the big exposé right before it released from your new fancy LA studio?”

  “I didn’t tell him.”

  “What?” Her head jerked up, searching his face for any sign of deception. Not that she’d even know what it looked like on him. “But what about the money? Saving the ranch?”

&nb
sp; “Don’t get me wrong. After that day I was so angry. And hurt. You deceived me. I told you things, personal things, thinking you were Donna.”

  Rachel’s cheeks flushed with shame. “So why didn’t you?”

  “I was about to. I was on the phone to him and he said something that made me see, properly, what a repulsive human being he is. Not that he ever hid it, but I kept glossing it over. Chose to ignore a bunch of things that I never should have because I was so focused on the end goal. And then I got there and discovered having the big show wasn’t worth what it was going to cost me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” He cast her a sad smile. “Not about that, anyway.”

  “What about, then?” The question floated from her lips before she had time to censor it.

  He tugged her toward him, using her lapels as anchors, the umbrella pole bumping against her shoulder. “I’ve spent months trying to forget about you. About us.”

  “And how’s that working for you?” Her words were so soft, she barely heard them above the now pelting rain on the canvas above them. Her gaze traveled his face, bouncing around it, except for his lips. Looking at those always got her in trouble.

  A wry smile. “Well, I’m fitter than I’ve ever been.”

  He wasn’t wrong about that. It was hard not to notice when his shirt clung to him like sugar to a donut.

  “Rach.” His touch feathered the side of her face. His eyes searched hers. She didn’t want to think about what they said back. They no doubt gave away her last remaining secret. “I am crazy about you. And turns out, without you, I’m just plain crazy. And I know we both have enough baggage to keep FedEx in business for years, but my life just doesn’t make sense without you.”

  Thunder cracked above them. She didn’t care. She drank him in. From his crooked nose, to his strong chin, to his perfect long lashes dripping raindrops. “You realize I’m probably going to get sued, right?”

  “Don’t care.”

  “And I live in Colorado and you live in Wisconsin.”

  “I’m sure we can make arrangements, since I believe you’re soon to be unemployed.”

  “And that if my father lives for more than another five years, he is way more expensive than if I had credit card debt or a penchant for Macy’s sales?”

  He tugged at her hair. “We’ll have lots of kids and send them to work the fields to pay for Granddad’s care.”

  “And—” She was cut off by a finger over her lips. Which went on to trace their outline, before his hand captured the small of her back and pulled her close.

  “Rach?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She couldn’t tear herself away. From his eyes, which looked right into her heart, or from his arms, which lifted her heels off the ground.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time we met.” His voice was husky, shaded with longing.

  “But I was awful!”

  “You were feisty.” His nose grazed hers.

  She snuggled in close, rain pouring into her collar and down her back. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first call-in we did together.”

  “But every time we’ve gotten close, it’s been sabotaged, usually by you.”

  She opened her mouth. Had he forgotten about their scorching kiss at Sunhaven?

  He read her eyes and shook his head. “Doesn’t count. And neither does the kitchen. That wasn’t a proper kiss.”

  Okay, if that was how he wanted it to be. She would have first-kiss do-overs with this guy as many times as he wanted.

  “Now, where were we?” His hand feathered the side of her face, disintegrating her ability to think straight. “Ah yes, you and your sabotaging.”

  Her hands ran up his arms. “I was trying not to fall for you.”

  A smile quirked. “And how did that work for you.”

  “Not at all.” She loped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through the hair at the nape.

  “So Rachel Somers, in about three seconds I am going to attempt to kiss you. But before I do, are there any dishes I need to rinse, or sports teams you need to insult, or secrets that need to be revealed?”

  She shook her head, emotion clogging her throat.

  “You promise?”

  He was so close, his breath tickled her lips. Unable to resist any longer, she tugged him down the final inch and answered without words.

  His lips were strong and firm, and he broke the kiss off way too soon. Tangling her hair in his hands, he gazed at her for a second before pulling her closer for another. This one longer, adding new shades of promise and longing.

  She held on tight to his neck, sure her legs wouldn’t hold her up if she let go.

  He groaned, pulling himself away. “You are going to get me into trouble, Miss Somers.”

  She pulled him back. “You’re already in trouble.”

  He smiled the kind of smile that would have them heading to Vegas if he used it too often. Then his face settled and he stared at her with something she couldn’t quite interpret. “I love you.” He breathed the words out as if it was a prayer.

  “I love you too.” The words rushed from her lips, as if they’d been sitting there, just waiting for permission to be uttered.

  A grin split his face. “You sure? Because if you don’t take it back, you’re going to be stuck with me forever.”

  “Forever sounds just about right.” She tugged him down and silenced him with a kiss that left no room for misunderstanding.

  Acknowledgments

  Every book feels like a miracle and One Thing I Know is no exception!

  I have the privilege of writing books with imperfect people and messy faith, and none of that is possible without God. In every single book there are many moments where I’m convinced that this is going to be the book I can’t finish. Or that it will be a huge disappointment. But the ultimate Creator always carries me through.

  I am beyond grateful for the insight and perseverance of my incomparable editor, Beth Adams. Lucas and Rachel’s story is not only so much better and stronger because of you but the conversations that we have in edits where things aren’t translating from New Zealand English to American English is always one of my favorite parts of the process. One day you have to come to New Zealand where we will eat hot pudding and you will discover what you’re missing out on!

  To my agent, Chip MacGregor: This time last year the future of my writing career was unclear but you never stopped believing in my stories and that they would find their place (again) in the traditional publishing world. Thank you.

  My husband, Josh, is the only reason these books even exist. Keeping all the balls in the air is only possible because of his unfailing support and boundless enthusiasm for books that he has absolutely no interest in ever reading. I love you.

  To the small people, Buddy, Buzz, and Boogles. It has been a year of change for our family and I know the whole “Mummy juggling a ‘real’ job and deadlines on two books at the same time” thing has meant that you guys have missed out while I’ve been bunkered down with my imaginary people. You three are the best thing I’ve ever (co-)created and I hope that one day me chasing my dream encourages you to chase yours.

  I am always indebted to my “SisterChucks” Jaime Jo Wright, Laurie Tomlinson, Halee Matthews, Anne Love, and Sarah Varland for the daily Facebook messages, the cheering on and the picking up, the friendship that covers all aspects of our lives, and for telling me what I’m writing is great even when it’s not even close. Thank you for being such an unwavering part of every adventure.

  My crazy, fun family and family-in-love is spread all over the world. What we lack in physical presence we sure make up for with random WhatsApp conversations! Thank you for your never-ceasing love and support even though I’m sometimes so busy with the imaginary people I forget to tell the real people minor things such as that I have another book coming out and you find out from my newsletter (sorry!)

  Finally, to my readers. I am convinced that I have the
best readers in the world. Thank you for your enthusiasm for my books, your encouraging emails and Facebook messages on the days when the imaginary people are defeating me, and for helping to spread the word. I know I speak for every author when I say we appreciate everything that you do to support us and our stories.

  More from the Author

  Can't Help Falling

  Close to You

  About the Author

  Kara Isaac is the RITA® award–winning writer of five novels. She lives in New Zealand (yes, it’s really as beautiful as it looks in the movies!), where she spends her time chasing three small people, writing horribly bad first drafts, and wishing you could get Double Stuf Oreos in the South Pacific. Find out more at KaraIsaac.com.

  MEET THE AUTHORS, WATCH VIDEOS AND MORE AT

  SimonandSchuster.com

  Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/Kara-Isaac

  Facebook.com/HowardBooksAtria

  READ MORE KARA ISAAC NOVELS

  Can’t Help Falling

  Close to You

  Then There Was You

  All Made Up

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