by Lisa Cardiff
She swallowed hard. “Don’t hide things from me. It makes it worse. You did it last time we were together and look what happened.”
“I won’t.” He pulled her into a hug. “Am I forgiven?”
Those words were exactly what she wanted to hear if she had stopped to think about it, but she couldn’t get the picture of Lucas holding Olivia’s hand out of her mind. The vision had scarred her. “Lucas, I want to believe what you’re saying.” She tilted her head back so she could see his face. “But you were holding her hand. I don’t get it. You claimed she wouldn’t be an issue anymore, but it doesn’t seem like you’re able to let her go.”
Needing space so she could think, she tried to step out of his embrace, but he pulled her closer. “It wasn’t what you’re thinking.” He kissed the top of her head. “She started crying and I felt bad. I wanted everything to be amicable. It was stupid. I was stupid.”
“Now what?” Regan asked.
“I was hoping you would forgive me.”
“No, I mean what happens with Olivia now. You may have told her she can’t be a part of your life, but what does that look like? She’s a family friend. You spend holidays together. You’ve known her your whole life.”
“I don’t know. We didn’t see each other for a year or so after college, and it wasn’t a big deal.” He shrugged. “It won’t be that hard. This is a pretty big city, and when I run into her, I don’t have to talk to her.”
“But that means avoiding things you love and, in part, avoiding your family. Are you sure you want to do that? I think you’ll eventually regret that decision.” She buried her head in his chest as the tears started to fall. She didn’t want him to choose her because of guilt, tears, or obligation. “And I can’t live with that because that would mean you regretted me and I would rather we ended this right now than live with that reality.”
His hands moved down the length of her hair repeatedly, top to bottom, in smooth even strokes, but instead of calming her, it made her more nervous. Was he waiting to tell her goodbye, touching her one more time before her broke her heart? She moved her hand under the hem of his shirt, and her fingertips drew small designs on the flat plane of his stomach. If this were the end, she wanted to remember the feel of his skin—she inhaled deeply—and his smell.
“This is important. Take some time to think about it,” she whispered as her fingers reached his chest, memorizing every contour. She’d miss him, but she could walk if she had to. She was strong even if she felt weak right now.
Bending his head, he kissed her neck, then found her ear and his warm breath set every nerve ending in her body on fire. She loved him, every little detail that made him Lucas, and a small part of her wanted to beg him to give any part of him, no matter how small or insignificant, but she wouldn’t do it. He had to decide what he wanted, and she would accept it, even if it killed her.
His lips found hers, and he kissed her softly. She closed her eyes, drinking him in, savoring him.
“I could never regret being with you.” His voice was thick and gravelly but filled with tenderness.
She wanted to believe his words. She really did, but even if he meant them now would he change his mind in a few weeks or a couple months? “That’s what you believe right now. I get that, but what about later, when you can’t ignore the consequences of your decision? Can you live with that? What would your—”
He put a finger over her mouth. “Sweetheart, where is that beautiful mind of yours taking you right now?”
As if in a trance, she moved her hands to his back, tracing the long rope-like muscles next to his spine. She didn’t want to spell it out, but she didn’t have a choice. No more hiding from reality. It wouldn’t get them anywhere. “I don’t want to cause problems with your parents. They don’t like me, and you’d eventually have to choose between us. I don’t want to compete for your love. It shouldn’t be that way. That’s not fair to either of us.”
She felt his chest shaking, and she looked up at his face. “You’re laughing,” she said, frowning.
“I don’t have to choose. My parents won’t interfere or pass judgment on my life. They aren’t like that.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Olivia’s parents are their friends…good friends. Your families do everything together.”
“Not everything, not even close. Our parents have been friends since college, but that doesn’t mean I have to be friends with Olivia. Sure, it’d be nice, but they realize I have to live my own life. Don’t worry about them. I don’t have to choose between you and my family.” He kissed her again. “They’ll love you. I’m not worried.”
“But I met your mom briefly in college, and she didn’t like me very much. I don’t know if you remember, but you took me to lunch with your mom at that Mediterranean restaurant.” Regan dropped her hands from his waist letting them hang limply from her sides.
“I remember,” he said softly. “It was a couple weeks after we started dating.” He smiled. “She liked you.” He tilted his head up. “I think I recall her saying you were too nice of a girl for me.”
She scoffed. “I don’t think so. Your mom talked about Olivia the whole time, and I felt like the inconvenient girlfriend tagging along for lunch. I wanted to crawl beneath the table halfway through lunch because she did everything but say she wished you were with Olivia, not me.”
Lucas shook his head as he pushed a long strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re wrong. My mom has known Olivia since she was a baby. You have to remember…the school had her suspended from the dance team because of the incident with your dad. My mom knew what happened. She knows how self-destructive Olivia can be, and my mom was worried about her. That’s why she visited that weekend. She was there with Olivia’s mom.”
“Oh,” Regan responded, finally seeing that weekend from a different point of view. “That makes sense.”
Lucas grabbed her hand and pulled her toward her couch. “Sit,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
Regan sat on the couch and tucked her legs to the side of her body. Lucas looked around her apartment for a few moments and then sat down next to her.
“Remember the night we met.” He lifted her left hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it.
“Yes,” she said cautiously, not sure where this conversation was headed. Now that they were moving forward, she didn’t want to talk about the past anymore. She wanted to stay firmly rooted in the present because the past was a minefield.
He reached into his pocket and pulled something out all the while holding her gaze meaningfully. “You had this cute red string tied around your wrist.”
She searched her memory for a moment and then she remembered. “Right. My mom was on one of her spiritual kicks. I had spent the morning with her, and she wouldn’t stop talking about the meaning of a piece of red string in different cultures and religions—Kabbalah, Chinese Legends, Hinduism, and a few others. She only stopped her lecture when I told her to tie a piece of the string around my wrist.”
“Yep, you mentioned that.” He opened his hand and inside was a worn piece of red string.
Regan remained motionless for a few seconds as she stared at his open hand.
“Is that it? My piece of string.” Her voice was hoarse because she was almost afraid to ask the question.
“Six years ago, I took this piece of string off your wrist and for six years I’ve kept it inside my wallet.”
“Why?” she asked as she picked up the red string, studying it and then twisting it slowly around her index finger. She had a hard time looking at Lucas because part of her wanted to cry and part of her wanted to hug him. After that night, she’d never thought of the red string again, and for the twelve weeks they dated he never mentioned it once. Now it felt as if her whole damn life were riding on that piece of string.
He looked up at the ceiling clearly contemplating his answer, then he smiled down at her tenderly. “For a couple reasons.” He lifted her onto his lap, rubbin
g soothing circles on her shoulders, her sides and her back. “It was the only thing in my possession linking you to me.” She felt Lucas’s mouth brush against the side of her throat, and she shivered.
“Uh-huh,” she murmured distantly as she hugged him tightly, loving the feel of his warm hard body pressed against her.
“And…” He nibbled on her ear, his teeth closing tenderly over her lobe. “I couldn’t get the meaning of the red string out of my mind.”
“Which one?”
“The Chinese legend of the Red String of Fate.”
He lifted her wrist and held it between their bodies. Smiling, he pulled another red string from his pocket and draped the new red string around her wrist and tied the ends together.
She twisted her wrist back and forth inspecting the string. “Refresh my memory. I don’t remember the whole story.” She didn’t want this moment to end. The last few days without him—hating him and loving him at the same time—had been rough.
Twisting the string in circles around her wrist, his eyes never left hers. “Well, that night after we met, I did a little research.” He shifted. “According to the legend, an invisible red string, the string of fate, connects two people who are destined to be together no matter the time, place, or circumstance. The thread can be stretched, twisted, or tangled, but it will never break. Tying a red string on two people symbolizes their sacred connection to one another.”
Speechless, she swallowed hard fighting the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks any second. “What are you trying to tell me?” Her voice wobbled on every syllable. She knew what she wanted this to mean, but she needed him to explain what he intended it to mean for them, for their future.
He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her hungrily. He drew away and gazed into her eyes. “Will you tie this one around my wrist?” he asked, pointing at the old, frayed string she still clutched inside her hand.
Her hands shaking, she placed the string around his wrist and after a few fumbling attempts, she finally secured it with a double knot.
He exhaled loudly. “I love you, Regan. I knew the minute you walked into that fraternity party six years ago, looking all sweet and innocent with your wide eyes and flowing hair that I wanted you. When your friends showed up, I slipped that string off your wrist hoping it would give us a reason to talk again.”
“You never mentioned the string,” she said, looking confused.
“I didn’t need to. I found you again a few hours later. Then I let you walk out of my life three months later, and I was devastated and I only had myself to blame. You don’t know how many times I wanted to talk to you, to beg you to take me back. A few months later, I waited for you outside your dorm, hoping to see you, to beg you to give me another chance. I went back for a week straight until I ran into one of your friends.”
“Ava?” she questioned.
He nodded. “She told me you were gone, that you didn’t return after the first semester.”
“I never knew.”
“I know.” He leaned back and pushed the hair out of her face. “Later that day, I found the string in my wallet, and I felt better because I had a tiny piece of you.”
He came back for me. All this time, she believed he had dismissed her and walked away without looking back. She tried hard not to cry, but when she sucked in a breath, a strangled sob escaped her mouth.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered. “I want to make you happy.” He kissed her softly, holding his lips pressed against hers for a few prolonged seconds. When he pulled away, he brushed away the tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I’ve held onto this string for over six years, and I never understood why I transferred it from wallet to wallet. I didn’t realize it at the time…but I hoped this thin red string would bring you back into my life, to me, and now that you’re here, I have no intention of letting you go a second time.”
She looked up at him through her wet lashes, her heart fluttering. “I don’t want you to.”
Cupping her face in his hands, his mouth quirked up at the corners, and she could almost see that dimple she loved so much. “Regan, I love you, and if you give me another chance, I’ll never give you a reason to doubt me again. Our string may be stretched, tangled, and threadbare, but it’s not broken. We’re not broken, not yet, not ever.”
It may have taken over six years and a whole lot of agony and pain, but she believed him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she smiled up at him. “Never broken.” She brushed her lips against his. “I love you, Lucas Evanston, even if you’re too charming for your own good.”
Epilogue
“She’s on the phone, Mr. Evanston,” Regan’s secretary said as Lucas walked by her desk. “But she said to go inside instead of lurking outside the door.”
He chuckled. “Got it,” he answered, not stopping to chat.
Martin and Black had offered Regan a permanent position when her summer associate position ended, but she didn’t accept it. They had both realized they couldn’t work together and not just because of the no fraternization rule, but because neither of them could concentrate with the other down the hall. Predictably, she had her pick of the best law firms in the city, and to his relief, she loved her new position.
They’d been together for over a year, and he still couldn’t believe she was his. He’d only seen Olivia once since that night, and thankfully, she stayed far away from him and Regan. Over the last year, his tormented past with Regan had been replaced with better memories, not that they were all bad, just marred by miscommunication and missteps.
But tonight he wanted to celebrate their past. It was the anniversary of the day they met eight years ago. He didn’t think she remembered, but he’d never forgotten. It was the first day of the rest of his life, and he wanted her to know how lucky he felt that she gave him another chance.
Lucas walked into Regan’s office. She was standing with her back to him looking out the window overlooking the bay, the phone pressed to her ear. Sexy didn’t begin to describe the way she looked in her slim black skirt and three inch heels with her long auburn hair falling to the middle of her back.
She glanced at him over her shoulder, and a stunning smile spread across her face. “I’ve got to go,” she said before dropping her phone on her desk.
Not wanting to wait one more second to touch her, he stalked around the side of the desk, pulling her into his arms.
“You didn’t have to get off the phone. I would’ve waited,” he said, kissing her lightly because he’d wait for her forever if he had to.
“But I didn’t want to wait.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, her green eyes shining, drawing him in, making his heart clench.
He squeezed her tightly, pulling her head against his chest. “Do you know what tonight is?”
She peered up at him, contemplating the question. “Am I supposed to?” she asked.
He laughed. “No.” He pushed her hair behind her shoulder, exposing her long sexy neck. “Eight years ago on this date, September twenty-seventh, to be exact, I watched the most beautiful woman walk into my fraternity house, and she was the only person I wanted to talk to that night. Within minutes of her opening her mouth, she had completely captivated me, and by the end of the night I couldn’t imagine a life without her.”
Without saying a word, she leaned in and brushed her lips across his, her warm green eyes wide and searching.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Are you always such a smooth talker, Lucas Evanston?”
And just like that, they were catapulted back to the night they met, but this time, their story would have a better ending.
He cupped her face in his hands. “Is it working?”
She gripped the lapels of his suit and laughed, really laughed, filling her eyes with happiness and love, and he couldn’t help feeling as if he were the luckiest man alive.
“Stop talking and kiss me.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She reached up and ran a thumb over his lower lip. “Always and forever.”
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, thanks to my family and friends who support me without question or comment, even when my mind wanders and I get stuck in the lives of my imaginary characters. Many thanks to Limitless Publishing for believing in my work and guiding me through the publishing world. Finally, thanks to every reader who finds one of my books. You're allowing me to live my dream.
About the Author
After spending years practicing law and running a real estate development company with her husband, Lisa decided to pursue her dream of becoming a writer and she must confess that inventing characters is so much more fun than writing contracts and legal briefs. A native of Colorado, she lives with her husband and three children in Denver. When she isn't managing the chaos of raising three children and owning her own business, she can be found reading or writing a book or tinkering in her garden.
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/lcardiff11
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/lcardiff_author
Website:
http://lisacardiff.com/
Goodreads:
www.goodreads.com/author/show/7692079.Lisa_Cardiff
Amazon:
www.Coffee Bean Editor/Lisa-Cardiff/e/B00HH2B652