by Toni Blake
He read the letter over—once, twice. It was still painful—it still pointed out all the flaws he feared in himself now that she feared them, too.
Shit, should a guy like him even have a kid, be a dad? Did he have a chance in hell of setting any good examples for Johnny? Was Johnny safe with him? Thinking through just a few of the many questions he’d been forced to ask himself lately, he let out a sigh.
But on the third reading of the letter, he realized there was one particular line that kept resonating in his head, the only good part. I hope being a father will help you continue to change into the man I know you can be.
The man she knew he could be.
That meant, despite everything . . . she still had a little faith in him. Right?
Maybe he hadn’t quite caught that the first time because he’d been too busy getting crushed by the rest of it. Maybe he hadn’t quite caught it until . . . right now.
He glanced down the darkened hall toward Johnny’s room. What if it were Johnny who was shutting him out? Would he just back away like this? Would he just give up? Someday, Johnny would find out the truth about his father—and when that day came, if Johnny turned away from him, would he just accept that?
Hell no. Lucky knew in a heartbeat that even as hard as it had been for him to take that first step with his kid, now that he had something good going with him, he’d keep fighting for a relationship with his son no matter how much time or effort it took. He’d do his damnedest to convince his kid that he’d changed and was truly a better man now.
The old Lucky, on the other hand—yeah, he’d have probably given up. He’d given up on a lot in life, early on. But as Tessa had told him, he wasn’t that guy anymore. He just wasn’t.
So why the hell was he giving up on Tessa? Wasn’t that just proving her point by accepting this the same way the old Lucky would have?
That last line in the letter was about fatherhood—but maybe what it was really saying, if he read between the lines, was that he had to get over his past and prove himself to her. He had to find a way to show her he was that good man already, that she’d been right about him in the first place and that he wouldn’t let her down again.
And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that if he didn’t try to fix this, if he just let the relationship go—it would be sort of like running away all over again. He had to face this the same way Tessa faced her disease—with courage, and heart. He had to be that man she wanted him to be, once and for all.
Tessa walked from her mom’s car toward the front door, tired but otherwise feeling better than she might have expected after a morning at her doctor’s office. Nothing was wrong, but she’d undergone some annual tests that generally left her unwell for a few days afterward. So far so good, though.
“Doing all right?” her mom asked.
“Fine, Mom.”
“I’ll stick around awhile,” her mother said anyway. “I have a little time.”
But Tessa protested. The tests had fallen on the day of her parents’ vacation departure and it was bad enough that she’d taken up her mom’s whole morning. “Nope—no way am I going to risk you missing your flight. And I can take care of myself, really.”
She was preparing to battle her mother on the topic further when she heard her front door open—and looked up expecting to see Rachel and Amy, and also completely ready to yell at them for being there. They knew about the tests, and that her mom was leaving on a trip, and they were worried. But she was sick of making people worry about her.
So she couldn’t have been more stunned to instead see Lucky exiting the cabin—as calmly as if he lived there. And—oh God—tired or not, the mere sight of him sent a hot tingle rippling down her spine.
“Sorry,” he said, “I let myself in.”
She just blinked. “Huh?”
“Rachel gave me her key.”
Then she flinched, stunned. Note to self: Kill Rachel. And never be stupid enough to give your friend a key to your house. “Why?”
“Because when I heard you might not be feeling too good the next few days, I insisted.”
She let out a breath, growing more irritated by the second. “Again, Lucky—why? What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to take care of you,” he announced.
And her blood began to boil. How dare he? It was bad enough he’d pushed his way into her home the last time she’d not felt well, but now—it was unfathomable!
And all of that must have shown on her face, since he said, “Before you start yelling at me, just let me talk to you for a minute, okay?”
Tessa sucked in her breath. She still wanted to yell. When it came to anything having to do with her condition, or being taken care of, she had a very short fuse. But then she recalled that Lucky already knew that and it hadn’t ever stopped him. So finally she snipped, “Fine.”
“Um, I’ll just excuse myself into the house,” her mother said.
And Tessa flinched. Yikes. The truth was, at the mere sight of Lucky, she’d practically forgotten her mother was even there.
Once they were alone outside, the thick billow of full, green trees seeming suddenly to cocoon them somehow, Lucky said, “I know you don’t like to believe you ever need to be taken care of, but I can’t stand the idea of you being sick and alone. I need to be here for you, babe.”
“But—”
“I wasn’t done,” he interrupted her.
She pursed her lips, perturbed—not only at him, but also at herself for still wanting him so much. Yet she shut up because . . . well, if he had more to say, maybe it was best to just let him say it, and then it would be over. Maybe it would provide the sense of closure she hadn’t quite reached despite three weeks apart from him.
“The thing is, hot stuff,” he said, “I’ve spent my whole life running. I’ve run from my family and this town, I’ve run from danger, and from fear, I’ve run from caring about anybody—and the last few weeks I’ve been running . . . from proving myself to you. But I’m not running anymore. Tessa, you’re about the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. So how can I let you go without fighting for you?”
Tessa felt a little dizzy, not from anything health-related, but from Lucky’s plea. The raw emotion in his voice ripped a hole in her heart. And there was a part of her, the part that was still just as in love with him as she’d ever been, that wanted to let him back in—into her house and into her life—wanted to let him fill that hole, that void he’d left. But it wasn’t that easy.
“Lucky, I’m sorry I ended things the way I did, without even talking to you—that was wrong.” She let out a sigh, sad about how she’d handled it. “But what it comes down to is this. A person’s life, their history, makes them who they are. And . . . you and I are just too different to be together.”
His voice came out soft but sure. “I made a mistake, Tessa. You’re basing our whole relationship on one bad choice. And I get why it upset you so much—it upsets me now, too. But I never got to tell you what happened that night. I never got to tell you that when it came down to it, I couldn’t do it. Because you were right—I’m not that guy anymore.”
He lowered his voice even further then, to a whisper, probably because her mother was nearby. “I couldn’t pull that trigger, babe. And I almost got killed because of it, and I ended up drawing my brother into it in a way I never wanted to—but I still couldn’t do it. See, it turns out I’ve changed even more than I knew. Maybe it’s about wanting to be a man my son can be proud of. Or maybe it’s about wanting to be good enough for you, deserving of you. Or maybe it’s just about coming home and finding parts of . . . of the guy I could have been if I’d never left. But whatever the reason—and even though I’ve had my fair share of doubts since you left me—I know I am the man you want me to be, Tessa.”
Tears welled behind Tessa’s eyes and she still didn’t know how to feel. This sounded like the Lucky she’d come to know and love. His words began to fill up that dark hole inside her wi
th a fresh ray of light—and hope. Was it possible her faith in him hadn’t been misplaced, after all? “But . . .” she began around the lump in her throat, “how can I know for sure? I can’t see inside you, Lucky. I once thought I could, but I was wrong. So how can I be sure all the dark parts of you are completely gone, for good?”
Just then, the front door opened, and Tessa’s mother leaned out. She wore a strange expression Tessa couldn’t read and said, “I don’t mean to interrupt, but Tessa, maybe you should come inside and see this.”
“See what?” What could be so important right now, when she was having such a crucial talk?
“Just come in, honey,” her mom said.
So she let out a sigh, then went into the cabin. And then she understood what was so important. Her living room had been transformed.
The room bloomed with daisies—vases of them sat everywhere: on the mantel, on her bookshelves, on the end tables and coffee table—it was like summertime had come indoors. And where there weren’t daisies, there were words—wonderful, inspiring, strengthening words, which Lucky had clearly found in her little journal—they’d been written out on banners in bright colors and seemed to wallpaper the room:
Think of all the beauty that’s still left in and around you and be happy.
Anne Frank
If God sends us on strong paths, we are provided strong shoes.
Corrie ten Boom
Keep your face always toward the sunshine—and shadows will fall behind you.
Walt Whitman
And, of course, the one she fell back on so often:
Just keep swimming.
Dory, Finding Nemo
And then came the one clearly inspired by Ellen, proving he’d been paying attention when they’d watched her show together:
Laugh. Dance. Tessa
It all left her speechless, almost overwhelmed. That Lucky had done this for her—that he’d known how much joy and comfort it would bring her, that he’d gone to all this trouble—amazed her. And began to make her think that maybe it was true—maybe he really was the man she’d believed in so fervently.
She had yet to utter a word when she heard a soft meow come from somewhere—and turned to Lucky, who’d followed her inside. “What’s that?”
He glanced over his shoulder toward the closed bathroom door. “Oh, I put the cat in the bathroom—I was afraid she’d tear up the flowers. I didn’t think through that part very well.”
“Huh?” she said, confused.
“I got the little bookstore cat from Amy for you.”
And she was touched, but . . . “Lucky, you know I’m not sure I can take care of a cat.”
Yet he just shook his head. “I’ll take care of her. She makes you happy, she makes you smile—that’s all that matters.”
Tessa simply stood there gaping at him, this man who . . . almost seemed to know her needs better than she did right now. Which maybe meant she should try to trust him. Again.
Gazing down into her eyes, Lucky took her hands in his, and his voice came low. “Tessa, you gotta have a little faith in me now, faith in us. You gotta believe you were right—I’m not that guy anymore. Now I’m the guy you made me into. I’m a way better man than I was the day I met you, babe. And I plan on staying that way. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m worthy of you.”
Tessa’s heart fluttered in her chest. “I think you just did,” she whispered up to him.
Then watched his warm brown eyes change, almost seeming to deepen in color. “I did?”
She nodded. “I love you, too, Lucky. I’ve just been . . . so afraid.”
He lifted a hand, cupped her cheek. “I know, babe. And I’m so, so sorry. I won’t make you afraid ever again—I promise.”
And Tessa believed him. She prayed she wasn’t being naïve, but he was right—sometimes you had to take things on faith. And right now, she trusted in everything he was telling her, every promise he was making. He’d given her all he had to give in this moment, and it was enough.
“I’m, uh, gonna take off,” her mom said then, from a few feet behind them—almost startling Tessa. Crap, she’d kind of forgotten she was there again.
So she moved to give her mother a quick hug and a goodbye, and on the way out the door, her mom said, “I’m glad you have Lucky to take care of you. Be smart and let him.”
When the door closed behind her and Tessa turned back to her big brawny biker, he asked, “Are you gonna?”
Again, she just nodded.
And the look that came over his face reminded her of the very first time she’d seen him, how beautiful she’d thought his eyes were, how soft they’d seemed compared to the rest of him. They were that way now.
“What can I do?” he asked. “To start taking care of you?”
“Maybe you could bring Brontë to me,” she said. And when he looked puzzled, she smiled and explained, “The cat.”
“Oh—sure thing.”
And as he walked to the bathroom to retrieve her, Tessa lay down on the couch, still tired, and when he returned with Brontë in one large hand, and his eyes locked on hers, she said, “Will you lie down with me? I want to just lie here and look at the room. And snuggle with you and my new kitty.”
“You got it, babe,” he said with a small grin, then passed her the cat before stretching out alongside her.
When Lucky closed his arms gently around her, it felt like coming home. And that was the real, true moment when she knew this was right. She nuzzled against him, took in the happy flowers all around them, and knew she was back where she was meant to be. But she didn’t get to look at the daisies for very long because she found herself kissing him then, long and sweet and as intense as any kiss they’d ever shared. And then she was telling him, “I’m sorry I got scared, Lucky. I should have waited, I should have known, I should have—”
That’s when Lucky pressed one finger to her lips to quiet her and said, “Just tell me one thing. Do you believe in me again, Tessa?”
She nodded profusely. “With all my heart.”
“That’s all I need to know.”
. . . and I am yours, and you are mine.
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
Epilogue
Summer had turned to autumn and the woods along Whisper Falls billowed with vibrant reds, oranges, and golds that seemed to shimmer in the sun. Wrapped in warm clothing, Tessa and Lucky walked quietly along the stream, holding hands and exchanging occasional kisses.
Since June, more than just the seasons had changed.
Lucky’s new workspace had long since been finished and business was booming, and now that word of Tessa’s interior decorating prowess had finally gotten out in the community, she had plenty of jobs coming in, as well.
Brontë had settled into her new home, and Tessa was thankful Lucky had made the bold move of adopting the cat for her. And though he’d never admit it, he seemed just as attached to Brontë now as she was.
For her birthday last month, Lucky had surprised Tessa by taking her skydiving. Although, by that time, she’d pretty much forgotten all about the idea and had been much more frightened than she’d originally expected. But Lucky reminded her how brave he thought she was, and they did it together, and it had turned out to be just as exhilarating as she’d originally anticipated. Again, as always, Lucky was helping her grab onto life and live it to the fullest.
And he kept life just as exciting in the bedroom, too—and occasionally out here in the woods, as well.
“Let’s see if the whispering trick still works,” Lucky said as they reached the top of the falls. “But this time, you go across to the other side.”
Tessa glanced downstream to the crossing point, and since the water was low right now, decided to go for it without making a big deal of it. “All right.”
“Where exactly did you stand the last time we did this?” Lucky asked, and she positioned him where she thought she’d been.
Then she made her way up the cre
ek, soon stepping across the rocks that led to the other bank. Once she reached the spot opposite him, she said, “Okay, I’m ready. Start whispering.”
From across the falls, Lucky gave her a sexy smile, and then she heard his whisper in her ear as clearly as if he’d been standing right next to her. “Will you marry me, hot stuff?”
Her gaze widened on him as the blood drained from her face. But then she found her voice and screamed out, “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” And then added, “But I could kill you for asking me when you’re so far away!”
He just grinned. “Come back across, babe, and I’ll show you how happy you just made me.”
And as Tessa did just that, careful not to trip or slip even as she rushed, anxious to be in her big, bad biker’s arms, she knew with certainty there was no place on earth she belonged more. Not in the city. Not having a sophisticated interior design career. Nowhere. The time for that part of her life had come and gone, and now she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Laughing. Dancing. And surrounded by love.
Acknowledgments
Books are not written in a vacuum, and I rely heavily on feedback from a couple of people whose opinions I trust enormously. So huge thanks to Renee Norris for her insightful critique of the entire book (and who went above and beyond, providing this even when she was sick so I could meet my deadline). And huge thanks as well to Lindsey Faber for her painstaking help over the course of two long evenings during which we mapped out all the logistics for the action-based scenes toward the end of the book. Not to mention that she tolerates all the general plot and character stuff I bombard her with on a regular basis. I count myself very fortunate to have both of them in my life.
Additional heartfelt thanks go to Jill Purinton, Bob Frost, and Jane Ballard for their help in learning about motorcycles and what’s cool in the biker world. Thanks, too, to Michelle Combs for giving me the lowdown on getting a tattoo. And thanks to the Faber family for their help narrowing down the list of names for my fictional biker gang. By the way, I’ve done my best to confirm that no such gang with the name I’m using exists, but if I’m wrong, it’s totally coincidental—promise!