Lovers Like Us

by Mary Campisi

  A tiny shrug, followed by a sip of tea. “I didn’t say anything.” She eyed him over her teacup.

  “Right, but we all know you don’t need to say a word to say a lot. Are you going to tell me, or do I have to start guessing, maybe call Rogan and Charlotte so they can guess, too?”

  “Heavens, no.” His mother sat up straight, her expression a mix of compassion and sadness. “Do you remember when you were about to turn twelve and Camille bought you a shirt for the birthday party?”

  Luke made a face, scowled. “How could I forget? It was purple.”

  Her blue eyes lit up and she laughed. “It wasn’t purple; it was navy with a lavender stripe.”

  He shook his head, remembering the designer polo shirt his aunt wanted him to wear to the party. “I only saw purple.” And for a twelve-year-old boy who didn’t like to wear anything but basic colors, purple, or lavender, as his mother called it, was not happening.

  “Your aunt was determined to see you in that shirt, said it was a perfect match for your skin tone and eye color. I think she might have been right, and with your light hair and the sun streaking it to blond, well, nobody could argue the match.”

  Except him. “Mom, it was purple, and back then I only wore four colors: blue, green, red, and brown.” He’d expanded his color chart since then to include black, white, and the occasional gray. Who needed anything else, especially if ninety percent of his wardrobe involved jeans?

  “I understand, but you know Camille has never been one to ignore a challenge, especially if she thinks she’s right.”

  His lips twitched. “I know the feeling.” His aunt used to call him stubborn yet determined: a worthy opponent.

  “She thought a new baseball glove would bribe you into wearing that polo shirt, but I knew better. No matter how much you wanted that glove, you were not going to wear that shirt.”

  He smiled. “You’re right. Nothing was going to make me do it.”

  It was her turn to smile. “Indeed not.”

  Something in her tone told him she’d been waiting for him to say that. Luke shifted on the ottoman, cleared his throat. “Rogan wouldn’t have worn it either.”

  She raised a brow. “I think he might have suffered through it for the baseball glove. Not you, though, which is why I know you wanted to marry Helena.” Before he could dispute her comments, she went on, “You wanted that baseball glove for a year, but not enough to wear a navy and lavender striped shirt for two hours.”

  “So?” He did not like where this was going.

  Her expression gentled. “If you really didn’t want to marry Helena, nothing would have convinced you to do it, not even your worries about me. Deep down, you know that, just like you know you still love her, and that’s what’s causing you such distress. You have a chance to start over, nothing between you but the truth and love. Don’t throw it away, Lucas. Please don’t lose the best person that’s ever happened to you.”

  Luke didn’t realize anyone was watching him until he looked up from the workbench and spotted Tate Alexander in the doorway. Damn, the guy was like a cat, prowling around without making a sound. “What are you doing here?” He was not in the mood for Mr. Perfect with the fifty-dollar haircut and fancy shoes. Come to think of it, the guy would bug the crap out of him even if he wore rags and had a shaved head.

  Alexander moved toward him, inspected the fireplace mantel Luke had been working on. “Nice job. If you’re interested in working on my place, let me know. You could use the same crew...maybe start your own business...” He rubbed his jaw as if considering how Luke might do this.

  Luke scowled. “Doubt I could help; I’ve never built a mansion before.”

  That made the guy smile. “It’s not a mansion. Your sister calls it a mini-mansion.”

  “Mansion, mini-mansion, castle...hole in the wall... Whatever.” Luke scowled, turned back to the mantel and his nail gun.

  “Right, well, a structure like that will keep a lot of men working and I’m guessing that would be a good thing for a man whose family’s about to increase.”

  Luke didn’t answer. Who couldn’t use extra money, but at what cost? He didn’t want anything he didn’t earn, not from a brother-in-law or a wife. That last thought jabbed his brain, pounded his right temple.

  “Okay, then I guess I’ll offer the job to one of the other guys. Otto maybe.”

  “Otto? He’s a kid. What does he know about contracts and building codes?” Luke shook his head, blew out a sigh. “You’ll spend more time doing repair work than enjoying your mini-mansion.” Another sigh, this one louder. “You really have no idea how the trades work, do you? You have to get reliable people you can trust who can do the job.”

  “Somebody I can trust, huh? That’s why I asked you, but you’re not interested.”

  The guy really could be a pain. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Luke stared at him. “Anything else? I’m on a timetable here.”

  “Just one more thing.” His brother-in-law took a step closer, picked up a hammer, studied it. “Helena misses you.”

  “I’m pretty sure my wife is none of your business.” He was not going to discuss Helena with a guy who considered a sport coat casual attire.

  “Maybe not, but she just came to see me about a place...”

  Luke stood, set the nail gun on his workbench. “What are you talking about?” Before the disaster that became their lives, they’d talked about renting or buying once the baby came, but that conversation was long since over.

  “She’s moving out, Luke. Said she wants a place for her and the baby.” He shrugged. “At least that’s what she said. No mention of you, though.”

  No mention of him? Helena was moving on without him? He’d done his damnedest to avoid her since the night at the Peace & Harmony Inn so he wouldn’t have to think about where this marriage was going—or not going—but that didn’t mean he was moving on without her. It meant he was confused and lost and trying to find a way back to the way things were before, and maybe he was a chicken shit... Okay, he was a chicken shit about confronting his feelings, but his mother had opened his eyes today and made him admit the truth—he’d wanted to marry Helena, and he wanted another chance with her because he still loved her. And the only way they could work was if he and Helena took the jump and opened up about what happened between them: the misery, the heartache, the pain. That was not something he looked forward to, but he wasn’t fool enough to pretend they didn’t have to trust one another again to have a shot at making this marriage work, and he’d spent the last few hours trying to figure out a way to broach the subject.

  And now she was moving and leaving him behind? Had she given up on him because he’d been a fool and an idiot one too many times? Fear swirled through him, shot up his throat and spilled out. “She can’t leave me.”

  “Then you better get back to the house because from what I gathered, she’s packing up her stuff.”

  Luke ran out of the house, hopped in the truck, and sped down the road toward the woman who owned his heart. He couldn’t lose her, no matter what he had to promise or how many less-than-desirable traits he had to change. Hell, he’d do whatever she wanted as long as she didn’t leave him. He pulled into his mother’s driveway, parked the truck, and sprinted to the front door, banging it open like he used to when he was a kid, anxious to get to the next adventure. This was not about an adventure right now; it was about life and a chance to live it with the woman who could make him a better person.

  “Lucas?” His mother stood in the kitchen doorway. “What’s wrong, dear?”

  “Where is she, Mom? Where’s Helena?”

  Her face broke into a gentle smile. “She’s upstairs.”

  He bounded up the stairs, thrust open the bedroom door, and spotted her sitting on the bed, pillow propped against the headboard, notebook resting on her thighs.

  “Luke?” She set the notebook and pen aside, brows pinched in what looked like conce
rn. “What’s wrong?”

  She wouldn’t look concerned if she were really leaving him, would she? Luke moved toward the bed, sat on the edge of it. “You’re too good and kind and beautiful... And why would you want to be with me, right? I treated you like crap and refused to see your side of what happened because—” his voice cracked, spilled his pain “—you broke my heart. Nobody’s ever done that to me before, maybe because I never let them get that close. You were different. You were like the first snowfall or the perfect sunset. The more I was around you, the more I wanted to be around you, until you became a part of me.” He stared at his hands, studied the gold band he hadn’t removed since their real wedding.

  “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because...because...” He sucked in a breath, slid his gaze to hers. “Are you leaving me? Just tell me the truth, okay? I know I don’t deserve you. Everybody knows that, but if you could just give me another chance, I know I could make it right.” Her eyes grew bright, too bright, like the tears would come next. Tears of sadness. Damn, it was too late; she was leaving him. Luke looked away, buried his head in his hands. His stubborn pride had cost him the only woman he’d ever loved.

  “Luke?” Her voice burrowed to his brain, spiraled to his heart. “I’m not leaving you.” Pause and a long sigh. “But we’ve got to get a few things settled.” She placed a hand on his back, rubbed it in wide circles: gentle, calming. “I won’t live with someone who doesn’t want to be with me or who shuts down when there’s a problem. I’ve grown up these past few months and learned that if you don’t have truth in a relationship, you don’t have a relationship. And even those we love will hurt and disappoint us. It’s just life, but that doesn’t mean we quit on them. It means we fight through it and stick together. That’s what makes a great relationship...a great marriage...a great love.”

  Luke turned to Helena, reached out and swiped a tear from her cheek. “I thought I would never trust you again,” he said, his voice cracking. “But I have to if I want us to be together, and I do want us to be together...so damn much my chest aches. Please tell me you haven’t given up on me—” he brought her fingers to his lips, kissed each one “—tell me you’ll give us another chance to get this right. We can learn together; I know we can, but please, just say yes.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.” She inched toward him until they were a kiss away. “Why would you think I was leaving you?”

  “Because you went to talk to Tate. He stopped by Rogan’s and told me you were looking at a place for you and the baby.” He paused. “One that didn’t include me.”

  “Why would he say that?”

  Luke kissed her knuckles, rubbed his cheek against her hand. “No idea. You didn’t say that?”

  “I did...but that’s not what I meant. I guess I refused to believe you’d give up on us and I wanted to have a place to look forward to, a home for the three of us. That’s what the visit to Tate was all about—wishful hoping.”

  “Damn that guy.”

  Helena smiled. “We should thank him. If he hadn’t massaged the truth a little, who knows how long it would have taken for you to talk to me?” Her lips twitched. “I could be in labor or the baby could be walking.”

  That made him smile. “From this day on, we’re in this together, no matter what.” He leaned toward her, placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

  “No matter what,” she murmured against his lips. “But we’re going to have to talk.”

  More kisses. “I can do that.”

  Helena pulled back, stroked his cheek. “About everything, Luke, even the things that make you uncomfortable.”

  He nodded. “I know. I’ll do it.”

  She smiled. “And open up.”

  “Agreed.” He loved the way her eyes lit up when she was happy.

  “No more accusations, and no more hiding truths because we’re afraid, even when we don’t think the other person will like them.”

  “Yes, absolutely agree.”

  His wife’s smile spread. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Mrs. Donovan.” He eased her onto the comforter, lay beside her. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

  “I think as much as I love you,” she whispered, trailing a hand along his chest.

  “And how much is that?”

  “There aren’t enough words to describe it.” Her hand inched lower, settled on his belt buckle. “But I can show you, if you promise to do the same.”

  And they did...oh, yes, indeed they did.

  Chapter 20

  Jonathan Michael Donovan. No surprise Rogan Donovan had named the child after his long-suffering, do-gooder, dead father. How was it that such a weak man could be held in such high regard when Harrison couldn’t garner common courtesy? People feared him: business associates, his children, his wife. And well they should. What good was the worth of a man if he had no power?

  Harrison blew out a long breath, eased onto the park bench and eyed the hospital entrance. His source said the child was born two hours ago, mother and baby were fine, no complications. The Donovans and associated family members were in attendance. That meant Tate was there, acting like one of them, as though he belonged. Damn the boy, didn’t he understand he did not belong with those people, would never belong? He was an Alexander, not some lovesick puppy chasing after a woman who wore steel-toed boots and jeans with holes in them.

  Harrison’s source was proving quite valuable. In a matter of weeks, he’d gathered information on many of Harrison’s contacts: former and current business associates, enemies, family members. Who would have thought Camille would devise a scheme to transform Carter’s mousy pregnant girlfriend into a young woman with flare and potential, or that Carter would find the guts to stand up to him? Of course, Camille was behind it all and while Harrison hated to lose, he did admire wits and strong will. Camille Donovan Alexander possessed both.

  And what of Frederick Strong? The man continued in Tate’s employ, which proved more disappointment than annoyance and had been spotted twice at The Oak Table having coffee with Camille. What was that all about? Hmm... If he closed his eyes and disregarded the man’s diminutive stature and boyish looks, he might see where his former sister-in-law might find Frederick attractive. It was the cerebral connection, no doubt about it, and one that bore watching for future developments.

  Harrison had been about to take a quick jaunt along the patterned walkway to stretch his legs when Camille exited the hospital, her small frame heading toward him in high heels and a designer suit. She was indeed an attractive woman with too much class and attitude for his brother. He’d be curious to see how she’d match up with Frederick Strong. “Well, well. If it isn’t my ex-sister-in-law.” Harrison stood, adjusted his tie, and moved toward her.

  “Harrison?” She raised a brow. “Imagine seeing you here. Have you come to welcome the newest Donovan to Reunion Gap?”

  He laughed. Camille knew he’d sooner jump in pond scum than spend time with the Donovans—Camille and Rose excluded. “That’s what I’ve always liked about you. You’ve got sass. Too bad my brother never appreciated it.” He motioned toward the park bench he’d just vacated. “Care to sit? I need to speak with you and this will only take a few minutes.”

  She eyed him with a look of someone who is used to sidestepping traps and less-than-sincere offers. A shake of her red head followed by a tiny huff and then, “I think I’ll stand. Easier to make a getaway.”

  Clever woman. “I hope your uncoupling with my brother doesn’t mean I won’t see you anymore.”

  Those pink lips pulled into a scowl. “I hope that’s exactly what it means, Harrison. You’ve caused enough grief and done enough damage to most of the people in this town, including and especially your brother. Helping him by enabling him and making him beholden to you is one of the cruelest acts of manipulation I’ve ever seen.”

  He rubbed his jaw, considered her words. “Manipulation? Is that what you call permitting my brother
’s lifestyle?” Harrison paused, added, “And yours? And what about your children’s lifestyle? When did you develop such a conscience, Camille? Was it before or after your husband’s fifth affair? Or was it the sixth, or maybe the tenth? You enabled Carter as much if not more than I did, and if it’s honesty we’re talking about here, then let’s both be honest.” He stepped toward her, said in a quiet voice, “You enjoyed the lifestyle enough to look the other way and do not pretend otherwise.” While he might admire her, he was not going to let her play the victim. His words must have bothered her because she stumbled back, her face pale, lips pinched. When she was able to speak, the words that spilled out were not ones he’d expected.

  “I have my own sins to repent for, but you will not be the one telling me what they are. Life has a way of making us pay for what we want the most, especially when we try to make bargains to get it.”

  He did not like her tone. “Do you have a point?”

  “You know the daughter you ignored, demeaned, and treated with disregard? I have a relationship with her. Do you even know what that is?” she spat out, her eyes bright, voice smothered in anger. “Meredith is coming back to Reunion Gap and if you have any hopes of repairing your relationship with her, you’re going to have to prove your worthiness.”

  How dare she speak to him in that manner? Had she forgotten the power he wielded, the depth of destruction he could create with a single phone call? Apparently, she had. Harrison sucked in three calming breaths, forced a smile, and said in a voice that matched the chill in the air, “Is that a challenge or a threat? If it’s the first, take care that you’ve honed your skills. And if it’s the second? Remember, everyone has secrets—even the Donovans.”

  Epilogue

  Three weeks after the birth of Annabelle Grace Donovan

  * * *

  “How are my two best girls?”