Lovers Like Us

by Mary Campisi

  Elizabeth shook her head, let out a soft laugh. “Oh, she is, and she knows it. I guess he’d planned to take her to Hawaii for an official honeymoon, but then you and Luke came home, and they postponed it.” A pause, followed by “Charlotte was the one who wanted to wait, said she couldn’t leave, not with a long-lost brother coming home with a new wife and a baby on the way.”

  Helena frowned. “Does Luke know? I’m sure he’d never want her to miss a trip to Hawaii because of him.” Was seeing her brother again the real reason Charlotte cancelled? Or did it have more to do with not trusting Helena or her motives? She’d seen the way Luke’s sister watched her, like the woman was waiting for her to make a misstep. But why? Luke had confessed that his family was an inquisitive bunch, but he’d also said they possessed suspicious natures that had grown worse after the disaster with their father. Apparently, Jonathan Donovan had not been inquisitive or suspicious enough, and that had been his downfall.

  “Luke knows. So does Rogan.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You can imagine the comments those two made. I think Luke said something about how it was pretty bad when your wife refused your honeymoon trip to Hawaii, and Rogan said the new house he’s building probably drained his funds.” A big sigh and a shrug. “I did not hesitate to tell my husband he was being petty and childish, and I didn’t appreciate his prejudice toward people of means.”

  “Money doesn’t guarantee a charmed life.” Helena said. “People still die, heartbreak still happens, as does disappointment, loads of disappointment.” Especially when you were being used to get to your money.

  “You understand,” Elizabeth said, her voice a mix of gentleness and resignation. “Most don’t. Oh, they say they do, but once they hear you come from money or have come into it, they think your life is grand. One big party filled with every imaginable pleasure and no want.” Her voice drifted. “But often, it’s the exact opposite. You see, I know all about being raised in luxury, and what I remember most is the loneliness.” She closed her eyes and massaged her belly. “Always on the outside looking in at life, yet never quite being able to touch it. Until I met Rogan. He’s the most honorable man I’ve ever known and while our worlds were so different, love bridged that gap.”

  Elizabeth opened her eyes, met Helena’s gaze. “And patience. It’s the same for Tate and Charlotte, and I can see it will be the same for you and Luke. Your issue might not be money creating the divide, but different personalities and lifestyles.” Her lips pulled into a faint smile. “I’ve heard stories about your husband and yet when he’s with you, all I see is a man consumed with love and the need to protect.”

  There’d been enough reference to “stories” about Luke that she knew they were true, knew also that she didn’t want to hear about them. And she hadn’t missed the looks from the women in town that said they’d either been involved with him or wanted to be involved with him. Luke ignored all of it, but Helena couldn’t pretend her husband’s past exploits, combined with his rugged appeal, didn’t make him a target for those who didn’t care about a pregnant wife. She pushed aside thoughts of other women, blew out a long breath. “I feel the same about him.”

  “Good.” Elizabeth glanced at Helena’s notebook. “Don’t ever give up your passion, no matter what.”

  “I won’t.” Writing and creating lived in her soul and she could not give up either.

  “I think you’re going to do very well with your cards.” Elizabeth offered a smile. “I’ve only read a few, but they move me. There’s real emotion there, not just cute words that rhyme.” She paused, her gaze narrowing on the notebook. “They kind of remind me of Annabelle Grace cards. I love those cards.”

  Thank you. “Yes,” Helena said. “Me, too.”

  Chapter 10

  “What do you think about Anastasia? Or Evangeline? Or maybe we should call her Veronica.”

  Luke lay beside Helena on the bed, his head resting against her belly. They’d gone to the doctor today, heard the baby’s heartbeat... Their baby. She stroked Luke’s hair, buried her fingers in its softness. Would their baby have light brown hair with golden highlights? Pale blue eyes? Would their baby be a girl or a boy? “What if our baby’s a boy? I kind of like Lucas John.” Helena traced the line of his jaw, trailed a finger to his lips.

  His strong arm circled her expanding waist, pulled her closer. “Lucas, huh? I never gave it much thought but then I wasn’t in the habit of discussing baby names.”

  “Lucas is a strong name and I’ve always liked it.” Her voice shifted, filled with emotion. “But now I’ve become a bit obsessed with it.”

  His laughter spilled through the room, rich, deep. “Lucas could work as long as he’s not a pain in the butt like his father. He’s got to be disciplined, practical, and book-smart. More like his Uncle Rogan.”

  Was he serious? Did Luke find himself lacking when compared to his brother? “I hope he’s exactly like his father,” she whispered. “Kind, compassionate, and gentle. Very loyal.”

  “That’s the Luke you see now, not the one who felt he had to prove himself by being headstrong, reckless, and pretty much an inconsiderate jerk.”

  She let out a slow breath. “I’d call that growing pains, and it was all worth it.”

  He traced tiny circles on the side of her belly, kissed the center of a circle. “I’m hoping we can move out and get our own place once the baby comes. That still gives us time to save and look around.” Pause, followed by a hesitant “Tate said he knows a couple places for rent and I guess he has real estate that he’d be willing to sell.” Long-suffering sigh. “Damn, but I hate to be beholden to him.”

  Why couldn’t people see that sometimes others offered because they really wanted to do it, no strings attached? “He’s family now. Did you ever think this is his way of being part of the family? Of trying to show you he wants to be accepted?” The Donovans were loyal but unbending people who did not accept help, even when they desperately needed it.

  “That’s what Rogan said, but still…”

  “Why don’t you give him a chance? When the time comes, let’s look at a few houses and if it feels right, we can make an offer. If not, we’ll rent. Tate doesn’t seem like the kind of man to push or hold it against you.” She hesitated, then let the truth spill out. “From what I can tell, you’re the one who holds a grudge and makes judgments, not him.”

  His hand stilled, and he looked up at her, the brackets around his mouth deepening, his brows pinched together in an expression that said annoyed and not happy. “You think so? You think I judge?”

  “I think you let your unwillingness to trust get in the way of logic. I understand why you do it because I do it, too. But there comes a time when you have to trust someone, and I think Tate Alexander’s a person you can trust.” She clutched his hand. “And I think it’s time to admit that.”

  He studied her, lips pulled into a frown. “I see.”

  Those simple words and the dark expression on his face told her he was pulling away, shutting down right in front of her. “Don’t do this, Luke. I love you and I’ll go along with whatever you want. I’m only asking you to consider Tate’s offer as an option. And while I do think you tend to judge, it’s not a criticism. I have my own faults and trust me, I’m not proud of them.”

  He raised a brow. “Care to share?”

  She shook her head, reached out and stroked his jaw. “Not now. Not yet. I’m still working on them.”

  He turned and kissed the palm of her hand. “Fair enough.” He laid his head back on her belly, said in a quiet voice, “Judgmental, huh?”

  The anger had shifted. Helena leaned forward, kissed his temple, and murmured, “Maybe a little.”

  “Yeah, maybe a little.”

  And just like that they were back on even ground, the conversation switching to the floorboards he’d torn out in Rogan’s living and dining room, and the plumber who was working on drain lines for the upstairs bathrooms. Helena listened to him talk about drywall, hardwood floor
s, and light fixtures, heard the excitement in his voice. A few weeks ago, she had no idea what a recessed light was let alone that it could be dimmed to completely change the mood in a room. Her world continued to expand, her heart to swell with love for Luke and their baby. He really did seem happy. Content. Maybe this life would be enough for him. She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. Maybe it was time to confess.

  But then she pictured his expression when he heard she’d been keeping important truths from him, ones he might think questioned his honor and integrity and she couldn’t get the words out.

  Not yet. Soon.

  Hours later, Helena’s secrets would be threatened by the one person who’d welcomed her into the family: Rose Donovan. It was a simple request asked with the shyness of one who isn’t certain her wish will be granted and yet hopes it will be.

  They were finishing a meal of roasted chicken, stuffing, and grilled asparagus, when Luke’s mother cleared her throat, set down her fork, and fixed her gaze on Luke and Helena. “I want to ask you both something I’ve been thinking about since I heard you were married.” Her lips pulled into a faint, sad smile. “Jonathan and I talked about the day our children got married, the joy we’d feel—” she sniffed, cleared her throat again “—the beauty and honor of witnessing that moment. He never got to see any of you marry.” Her blue gaze turned bright, darted toward the ceiling. “That’s not true. He witnessed all of your weddings; I was the one who did not.”

  Helena clasped her hands together, sipped in tiny breaths, and waited for Luke’s mother to make her request. What could she want? Please do not let it be the one request that will expose what I’ve done. Please. Not that.

  Of course, it was exactly that. A mother doesn’t speak of missing her son’s marriage and sprinkle words like joy, beauty, honor, and hope and not wish for a chance to know it. Rose Donovan’s next words spilled over Helena, stole her thoughts, squeezed her chest until it ached.

  “Will you renew your vows? Please?”

  She could not think, could not feel or process—

  “Of course, we will.” Luke reached out and stroked Helena’s cheek. “We’ll be honored to, won’t we, babe?” Her head dipped a fraction, not quite a full nod, but enough for him to consider it a yes. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low, his lips brushing her temple. “I love you.” Then he turned back to his mother and said in a voice filled with curiosity and humor. “Sounds like you’ve given this some thought? Care to provide a script of what you’d like us to say?”

  Rose Donovan’s expression softened, her eyes turned brighter. “No, dear, I think you’ll both know exactly what to say.”

  Those words and the heartfelt request settled in Helena’s brain, made her restless and unable to sleep for the next two nights. Uncertainty and confusion suffocated common sense, made it difficult to consider the possibilities of their situation, or the solution. Would it be so bad if she and Luke exchanged real wedding vows before she was one hundred percent certain he wouldn’t tire of marriage and a family? Nothing in life was guaranteed, not even a sure thing or a promise of happily-ever-after. Maybe it was time to trust her instincts and marry him for real, become Mrs. Lucas Donovan: wife, partner, soulmate. Her heart told her he was committed and wanted a life with her and their baby and while it was scary, she would trust her heart.

  If she and Luke renewed their vows, vows that weren’t legitimate the first time, then they’d be truly married, and he’d never have to know the first wedding wasn’t real. Life would begin for them in Reunion Gap, surrounded by his mother and the rest of his family. Yes. Yes, she breathed, her soul expanding with love and hope. Once they were married, she would find a way to tell him she owned one third of her family’s greeting card company and was the creator of the Annabelle Grace card line. He’d be angry—okay, furious—but she had to tell him before the baby came. Didn’t she? She sipped in tiny breaths to calm herself. Of course, she had to tell him; she couldn’t go on pretending she’d been near bankruptcy and was hoping to sell one of her cards to the Annabelle Grace line. How could she do that when she was Annabelle Grace?

  One day, he’d probably have to meet her brother and sister, though there was no rush for that. Who knew what Dominic and Estelle would have to say about Luke, or worse, what Luke might have to say about them? They did not possess the warmth or graciousness of Rose Donovan and to them, family loyalty meant duty to the business. That was another reason she wanted to be part of the Donovan clan; they believed in loyalty and duty to each other.

  Once Helena reconciled the idea that fate and Rose Donovan had determined it was time for a vow renewal, or in Luke and Helena’s case, a real wedding, she wanted to set a date and get married. It sounded so easy and should have been. However, easy often morphs into impossible and three days later as they sat in the mayor’s office, Helena realized that’s exactly what this situation was. Impossible.

  Martin Olanski was a big man with a ruddy complexion, a shock of white hair, thin lips, and the darkest eyes she’d ever seen. Hawk eyes that darted over a person, burrowed into their soul to spot a truth from a lie. When he stood to shake hands, those eyes narrowed on her, targeted her belly. “Helena, welcome to Reunion Gap. It’s nice to meet the woman who’s won this man’s heart.” His gaze slid to Luke as he clasped his hand, pumped up and down three times. “Nice to see you again, Lucas. It’s been much too long.”

  Red splashed Luke’s cheeks and he mumbled, “It’s been a while...”

  “Have a seat and let’s see what we can do to put a smile on your mother’s face.” Mr. Olanski sank into his chair, folded his hands over his protruding middle and said, “Rose says you want to renew your marriage vows.” When Luke nodded, he continued, “Easy enough. I just need to know the where and the when, and I’ll be there.” He shook his bushy head, let out a laugh. “Hard to believe. Lucas Donovan, a married man.”

  The tone in Mr. Olanski’s voice made Helena wonder if there was more to the man’s words than simple statements. It was almost as if they belonged on a billboard—placed in the center of town as a grand announcement for all the females in the area. Luke must have felt the same way because he laced his fingers through hers, squeezed.

  The mayor reached for a pen, jotted down a few notes. “We’ll set a date once we have a copy of the original marriage certificate—”

  “The...” Helena swallowed, tried to clear the buzzing in her head that made it difficult to speak. “Marriage certificate?”

  “Right, we’ll need that.” His voice slid three octaves, took on a conspiratorial tone. “I instituted the policy a few years back when a young couple tried to pull a fast one by telling me they were married when they weren’t. All they wanted was the party their parents promised, and I sure caught a lot of grief for not checking.” He let out a sigh, rubbed his jaw. “I know you two would never do that, but I can’t break the policy.” Another sigh. “My secretary would have my hide. Tell you what; how about you give me the information and I’ll have her take care of getting the copy?”

  How were they going to get a copy when there wasn’t one?

  “Great, thank you.” Luke turned to Helena. “Do you know where we put the marriage papers?” His voice slipped. “Or the name of the guy who married us?”

  Yes, she did know. They were tucked away inside one of her notebooks, and how could she forget Sam Henderson, friend and waiter from the restaurant? Helena met Luke’s gaze, held it, and offered up one more lie in a string of several. “I’m not sure. I’ll see if I can find them, okay?”

  Luke nodded, turned back to the mayor of Reunion Gap. “We’ll locate the information and get it to you as soon as we can.” He stood, extended a hand. “Thanks for your help, Mr. Olanski. You’re going to make my mother the happiest woman walking this earth.”

  Harrison Alexander never accepted no as an answer unless he was the one saying it. He’d learned from his father that acting as though you were in charge was the first step toward being in
charge. It didn’t matter if the issue wasn’t his business; what mattered was his interest in making it his business.

  There’d only been one time in his life where someone told him no and he’d been unable to reverse the decision. Rose Donovan had turned down his offers and professions of love, and it hadn’t mattered that he’d wanted to go against his father’s wishes and break his engagement to a wealthy southern socialite. Rose hadn’t wanted him or his promises.

  Her rejection had made him bitter and determined to destroy the man she’d chosen over him. For years he’d held onto the hope that one day she would come to him and admit she’d never stopped loving him. But she hadn’t done that. No, damn it, she’d stood before him as venomous words shot from her mouth. Jonathan Donovan owned my heart from the moment I first met him. And you? You were a mistake I have spent every breathing moment trying to forget. Harrison sipped his coffee and thought of Rose and her perfection: the sky-blue eyes, high cheekbones, slender neck. And oh, the luxuriousness of her silky hair...

  His recent illness had forced him to realize he might not have decades left on this earth; he might only have years, or months. That didn’t sit well with a man who controlled life and the people in it. He sure as hell expected to be around a lot longer than a few months or a few years and if he could increase his chances with those damnable heart-healthy meals, exercise, and cutting back on the alcohol, then he’d do it because before he took his last breath, Rose Donovan was going to admit she cared about him and that “no” she’d flung at him would become a “yes.”

  That was his long-range plan, but he had several short-term agendas that required his attention, beginning with his brother’s disastrous personal situation. He’d invited Camille for coffee, but his sister-in-law wasn’t fool enough to believe this was a social gathering. No, she was much too smart to think him interested in benign conversation that did nothing to move his plan forward. Camille had always been the one who could read a room and anticipate the outcome of a conversation long before the last words were spoken. Carter possessed the IQ to soar through medical school and every other academic venture he pursued, but he did not have the patience or the interest to understand people or what motivated them.