“Don’t be sorry for me,” he replied quickly. “I deserve it.”
Hell. “Was his mom your first wife?”
He nodded, his hand coming back up to cover most of his face. “I messed up so much with him… Nothing I do will ever be enough.” He paused and made a choking sound that broke my heart a little more. “I can’t bring his mother back, but if I could trade our lives, I would. I would do it in a heartbeat,” he said in a gutted voice that broke my heart all over again.
I knew what it was like to live with regrets, and from the tone of his voice, this wasn’t just a regret. It was so much more.
It was an amputation that no prosthesis in the world could replace.
And the poor man kept talking in that cracked and hurting voice. “I didn’t see him for twenty years. The only reason I knew he was alive was because I’d pay a private investigator every year to find him.”
I couldn’t help but tense up. Not that I was one to talk, but twenty years? That was a lifetime.
Sure, I couldn’t say anything because I had left my house for almost ten. The only difference was: I knew no one gave a crap about me. Whether I lived, whether I died, whether I had somewhere warm to sleep or food to eat. Nobody I had left behind gave a single shit.
The longing I had seen on Mr. Cooper’s face when he looked at Rip suddenly made so much sense.
“By the time you came around the shop, everyone who had known Ripley as a boy had quit or moved on, so I stopped talking about him at the shop when there was no one around to ask for an update. The years… rolled by, one after the other, and before I knew it, I hadn’t mentioned him to any of you until he came back,” he explained.
I swallowed for him. For the way his voice wobbled as he told me this story.
“He showed up out of the blue one day, Luna, and said he wanted to buy into the shop… I didn’t mean to lie. Not talking about him… snowballed out of control until if I did tell you all the truth, it wouldn’t seem so innocent anymore.”
“I get it,” I told him, quietly. Because I did get it. I really did.
His sigh was sorrowful. “I don’t know how to get myself out of this mess.”
“I haven’t told anyone anything,” I let him know. “And I wouldn’t. Not ever. It’s your story and his, not anyone else’s. There isn’t a reason why anyone else should know either.”
The older man choked, rubbing his hand over his face as a couple tears escaped through his fingers. “He doesn’t want anyone to know I’m his father. He hasn’t in decades; that isn’t going to change any time soon. I could die tomorrow, and he would be perfectly fine with it,” he choked out, his chest hiccupping with emotion and maybe even a dozen other emotions I would never understand.
“I would care,” I told him. “I know I’m not a replacement for him, and I would never try to be, but you’re just about the only father figure I’ve ever had. And I would care a lot if you were gone. I would miss you for the rest of my life.”
The hand he had over his face shifted, and he peeked a glassy, red-rimmed eye at me.
So I kept going. “And I think Rip would care too. I was there while we waited for the ambulance, and I was there most of the time while we waited to hear what happened to you. He was worried, Mr. C. I don’t know if that will ever mean anything, but if he really hated you, he wouldn’t have sat there for hours to hear from your doctor.”
“He was probably making sure I really died.”
“Or you have a relationship with him that no one will ever understand.” I sighed. “Mr. C, I can tell you that if my dad had a heart attack, I would not have waited around at the hospital to hear how he was doing. I wouldn’t go visit period. And when the day comes and he passes away, I won’t be at his funeral. They could offer me a million dollars to go, and it wouldn’t be enough. Maybe Rip isn’t your biggest fan, and he doesn’t know how to forgive you for whatever it was that he blames you for, but it could be worse between the two of you. If things were that bad, he wouldn’t have come back, and he wouldn’t be able to look at you every day.”
My boss’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he nodded. His chest went up and back down. He sniffled and followed it up with another choke that made my heart hurt.
I didn’t know what happened with his wife. I didn’t know what happened with Rip. I didn’t know what happened to them.
But I cared about Mr. Cooper, and even though I told myself that I wasn’t going to care about Rip the same way I had, a part of me still did and would.
I wanted the best for both of them.
I was just the wrong person to say anything about family relationships, and that was the truth.
He sniffed, and his sniff hit me right smack in the chest. “You know how to make an old man feel a little less like the scum of the earth, little moon.”
“You could never be the scum of the earth. And I know how to tell you the truth most of the time, and in this case, I didn’t have to lie. I saw Rip’s face.” Then I lowered my voice and added, “And if it makes you feel any better, he doesn’t like me much either.”
That had him wiping his face with his forearm. “I highly doubt that, honey.”
I smirked to myself, but he must have seen it because he kept talking.
“He doesn’t, Luna. I don’t know Rip—” He sucked in a breath. “—my son as well as I should, but I know you’re the last person he would dislike.”
Well. “We can agree to disagree, huh?” I asked and stood up. “I’m getting a glass of water. Do you want anything from the kitchen?”
His expression was wobbly as he dropped his other arm and showed me his pink, puffy face that was pulled into a partial smile. “How about a bag of chips?”
“How about some fruit?”
Mr. Cooper groaned as I made my way around the couch and headed toward the kitchen, directly beside the living room.
And it was right then, as I turned, that I almost bit my tongue.
Because standing in the hallway that led from the front door to the living room and kitchen was a person.
Just. Standing there. Quietly. Not moving.
And that someone was Rip who took up most of the width of that hallway.
Rip who was standing there watching me with heavy eyes and a jaw that was tighter than ever.
“Lu, what—” Mr. Cooper started to say before he cut himself off, head turned toward the doorway. “Rip.”
Ripley’s eyes slid to his… dad… for a moment. His voice was gruff, and his question was the last thing I would have expected. “You all right?”
Mr. Cooper didn’t hesitate nodding. “Yeah.”
Yeah? That was it? I mean, I guess I shouldn’t expect him to tell him that no, he wasn’t okay because he’d just been talking about how his own son hated him.
“Any news from the doctor?” Rip asked.
I bit the inside of my cheek and headed into the kitchen. I listened to Rip’s low voice and Mr. Cooper’s slightly louder one as I pulled a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with water from the fridge.
“I don’t want you to die,” Rip said, so quietly I could barely hear him.
The answering pause said everything, I thought, and it made me flinch.
“Shit’s not ever gonna be the same, but I don’t hate you either, old man,” he kept going, gruffly. “Can’t stand you but I don’t hate you. Got it?”
There was a sniff and a “got it” right back.
Well. Okay. All right.
It was just as I pulled a bag of grapes from the fridge that the two men’s voices cut off.
By the time I finished rinsing and setting the grapes into a coffee cup, they still hadn’t continued speaking, but I figured that was okay. Peeking over the counter that led into the living room, I found Mr. Cooper in the same spot, and Rip was nowhere to be found.
“Here are your grapes.” I handed the cup of fruit over to Mr. Cooper.
He wrinkled his nose as he took it. “Thank you?”
I couldn
’t help but grin at him. “Do you have medication or anything you need to take, Mr. C?”
“No, ma’am,” he responded dryly.
Just as I opened my mouth, another voice cut across the air. “Talk to me outside for a minute, baby girl.”
I froze there and only moved my eyes over to the man who had reappeared in the same place I had last seen him. I kept my face nice and even. “I’m supposed to stay with Mr. Cooper until Lydia gets back.” That was the truth, and it was believable, wasn’t it?
“I can be alone for a minute,” Mr. Cooper threw in the second I finished my argument.
I closed my mouth.
By the time I had moved my gaze back over to Rip, he had his hand out.
Toward me.
And he’d taken steps closer so that he was within reaching distance.
So that I could take his hand.
He was just trying to make up for being so ugly to me weeks ago. Maybe he’d gotten tired of having to get his own coffee. Maybe he’d overheard what I had told Mr. Cooper. Hadn’t I already learned that he was capable of feeling guilt?
“Come with me,” he said in that slow, soft voice, fingers still reaching for me.
Hurt tightened my chest, but I stood up anyway. And I took his hand. Maybe I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t just learned that Rip had issues with Mr. Cooper over his beloved mom who had died, over how he had remarried so soon after her death, but I would never know.
But what I did know from experience was what it was like to take a leap and have no one there to catch you. Or at least break your fall. And that was why I took it.
Because who knew when the last time he had reached out to anyone had been?
Gently, he tugged at my hand and led me toward the front door, closing the door behind us the second we were outside. I watched as he took a step forward, his free hand going up to the top of his head and smoothing down the back of it. He still hadn’t let go of my hand.
Crickets chirped in the evening grass on Mr. Cooper’s front lawn. I didn’t need to look around to know we were surrounded by shrubs and flower bushes. I also didn’t need to glance up to know Lucas Ripley was looking down at me when I tried to pull my hand out of his, and his grip tightened instead of loosening.
So I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t hesitate, his voice strong and sure, as this man said, “Don’t be fucking mad at me anymore.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and forced myself to look up into that face I had memorized. Dark brown hair shot through with strands of silver, deep-set eyes, broad, flat cheekbones, and that jaw that would have been a work of art if anyone were smart enough to recreate it, faced me. His eyes focused down on me, intent and unflinching.
Leave me alone, he had said.
“I didn’t mean all that shit I said, and you know it,” he told me, tugging at the hand he hadn’t let go of.
I took a deep breath and kept my voice even. “Mr. Ripley—”
He didn’t let me get further than that before he snapped, “Cut it out.”
“Cut what out?”
That throat of his bobbed as he dipped his chin in close. “You know what, Luna.”
I looked at him, keeping my face blank.
“That Mister Ripley bullshit,” he finally growled out.
“But that’s your name.”
He made a noise in his throat.
“You’re my boss,” I reminded him.
The fingers around mine jerked. “I’m more than your boss.”
That had me trying to pull my hand out of his. “No, Rip. That’s what you are, and I just happened to forget that.”
He cursed. Rip cursed under his breath, his fingers tightening. “No, baby girl, there was nothing for you to forget.”
Leave me alone.
I clung on to those words with both my hands and held on tight. He was my boss. Today, tomorrow, the day after that. He didn’t want what I had to offer, and I wasn’t going to be naïve enough to believe people changed.
Rip had lost his mind for a little while before deciding what it was that he wanted.
And that wasn’t me or my friendship or my problems.
He felt guilty and that was it.
I tipped my chin up, reminding myself I had been through worse and been through things more hurtful than words said out of anger. And I told him what he deep down wanted to make sure. “I’ve already told you I’m not going to quit, if that’s what you’re worried about.” I swallowed and fisted my free hand, keeping my voice calm. “I get offers every few months from other businesses, but I don’t think twice about them. I love working at CCC, even if you don’t like me—”
This huge man reared back and blinked, his hand getting tight and his voice going hoarse. “Not like you?”
Be strong. You can handle anything, Luna.
I nodded. “We can call it whatever you want. I’m fine with it, Mr. Ripley. You’re not the first person to dislike me or not want me around. It’s fine.”
He let go of my hand so quickly I didn’t have time to react before the man in front of me cut the distance between us so much there was no distance.
That big hand that had been right by my face moved like lightning, his palm cradling the back of my head. Before I could finish my sentence, before I could even suck in a breath, Lucas Ripley dipped his face close to mine. “I don’t dislike a single fucking bone in your body, Luna.”
And cue my mouth shutting and probably my eyes bugging out too.
“You drive me fucking nuts—”
“That’s not very nice,” I said before I could stop myself.
I didn’t miss the way his eyebrows shot up. “Let me finish, yeah?”
I shut my mouth.
“But I miss the fuck out of you, messing with me all the damn time, provoking me way too much, always fucking laughing and smiling and being a pain in my fucking ass.” What had to be his little finger grazed the nape of my neck as I stood there. “I said some mean shit to the one person in this fucking world that—”
He stopped, and if it wouldn’t have been for his Adam’s apple bobbing, I wouldn’t have realized he was struggling with his words. Struggling with whatever he was trying to tell me. Confusing the freaking hell out of me.
“You. I would never want to hurt you,” he breathed, beaming me with that intense gaze. “Not for nothing. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I knew your family, but I didn’t exactly want you to know how or why I did either. You get me?”
Just as I opened my mouth, his hand moved around and his thumb landed over my lips, shutting me up.
“I swear to Jesus Christ if you say something about work or about how you won’t fucking quit, I’ll close your mouth my own goddamn self in another way,” Rip told me.
That had me shutting my mouth.
That had my heart going whack, whack, whack, what the hell is happening?
“What?” was all I could crow.
“I don’t give a single fuck how many other companies offer you jobs, or how happy you are at the shop. Me and the old man wouldn’t let you go anywhere,” he said, his gaze intent.
“I just said I don’t want to go anywhere in the first place…,” I muttered, trying my best to ignore how fast my heart was going because of the way he was looking at me.
At the way he was even just talking to me.
Rip’s cheeks twitched, and his voice was even lower as he whispered, “Good.” The pinky he had on the back of my neck moved across the skin there lightly, just grazing it. “I don’t want you leaving me alone. I was pissed and you were there, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I don’t want to hurt you. You hear me?”
I did and I didn’t.
I was there and, like always, I was an easy target. That was nothing new.
But I knew words held an edge of truth to them always.
I also knew that I had been right in thinking that I had wasted my time mooning over this man who would never be more than my boss. He did feel bad, and that was nice, bu
t that was it. That was all. I had given him the tools he used to hurt me.
And I really was tired of hurting, but that was on me. I just wanted to move past this.
Warm, sweet breath washed over my face as he leaned in even closer to me. Bringing him so close I had to hold my breath. “You forgive me for fucking up?”
Did I?
I only had to pause for a moment before I knew my answer. “Sure.”
“Sure?”
I nodded and that got me a slow, wary blink.
“We good?”
I nodded again.
The finger on my neck was light as his eyes moved from one of mine to the other and back again. I could still feel his breath on my face. I could feel his entire palm on the back of my head.
“We over this ‘Mr. Ripley’ bullshit?”
I didn’t say a word in response to that, mostly because I did forgive him—Rip was shades of black and gray and white, and so was his relationship with Mr. C—but that didn’t change my own reality. My own truth.
Plus, I didn’t want to lie.
I wasn’t sure I was done with the “Mr. Ripley” bullshit. It would help me cope. It would remind me of my hard-earned lesson.
And something about that had his face clouding over. His eyes narrowing, moving from one of mine to the other like he knew—knew—what I was thinking. “I don’t dislike you. Not a little, not at all. How many times do I gotta say that to get it through your head?”
My chest ached as I looked up into that handsome, handsome face.
But I remembered.
I would remember what he said for a very, very long time.
“I forgive you, Rip, I really do. I can’t imagine the stress you were under, and I appreciate that you feel bad for what you said. You had no idea I couldn’t care less that you knew what I did before I told you. But I never thought you would tell me to leave you alone. That you would push me away, and that’s what hurt me. Because I grew up being told to leave people alone. I want you to be happy, and I want to be happy too. And none of this lately has been doing that. It just makes me sad. So I think we’re better off just keeping things the way they always should have been. Like you’re my boss, and I paint your cars for you, and that’s it.”
Luna and the Lie Page 46