Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle (70 page)
Lucas shook his head. “Hope not. That wasn’t my intention. Kate’s entitled to make her own choices, to choose her own life. I just want her to have all the facts before she does.”
Nancy said something that tied the story into a neat bow, then signed off. Kate’s dad flipped off the TV. Without the light and noise of the TV, the room fell into darkness and silence. Her mind whirled faster than a carnival ride.
“Well.” Her dad flipped on the lamp.
Kate’s legs felt wooden as she rounded the recliner and sank into it. She was shaking, her hands and legs trembling uncontrollably.
He
loves me. He’s loved me from the beginning.
She felt a sudden, inexorable need to talk to him. To see him.
“Do you love him, Kate?” Her dad’s voice broke through her thoughts.
Do I love him?
She remembered the way he held her on the sail-boat when she was sick. Remembered the way he held her when the scandal broke. Remembered how treasured she felt when he looked at her, touched her.
“Yes,” she whispered.
But they were so different. It was why she’d left. She didn’t want to wind up like—
My parents? Well, I’ve already discovered how wrong I was on that
one.
It wasn’t their differences that broke them apart but her dad’s disorder.
But even with that understanding, her heart faltered in fear.
What am I afraid of? That I’m going to wind up alone and desperate like
Mom?
But I can’t control the future. I can’t even control the present. I just
have to make reasonable decisions and hope for the best. Look how
meticulously I planned my engagement and wedding. And still, it all fell
apart.
Did her obsessive need to plan stem from a desperate desire for control?
Kate remembered the conversation she’d had with Brody that day on the widow’s walk.
“I’m not afraid of heights so much as I’m
afraid of falling,”
she’d said. Was that her problem? Why she’d nearly married a man she didn’t love? Why she’d been in such a hurry to leave the man she did love? She was afraid of becoming her mom. Afraid of becoming like the hundreds of women she’d counseled.
Kate gave a wry laugh. Some psychotherapist she was. She was only now figuring out that she was avoiding love.
“You think you should call him?” her dad asked.
What should she do? She wanted to tell him she loved him. She wanted to say she was sorry for leaving. A shiver of fear snaked its way up her spine. What if it didn’t work? What if he broke her heart?
It’s already been broken. Let him heal it.
Her advice to Brody came back to her:
“It’s fear that makes an act courageous.” Do I have the
courage to love him back?
Kate straightened. She did. She was ready to put it all on the line, like he had.
But she wanted to do it face-to-face. She wanted to touch him, feel the strength of his arms around her when she said the words.
“I have to go to him,” she said firmly.
Her dad nodded.
She checked her watch. “I can be there by morning if I drive to Hyannis and take the ferry.”
“And drive all night? Kate . . .”
“I have to see him.” She had to tell him she loved him. She could take a flight, but then her car would be here. No, it was settled. She’d never be able to sleep anyway. She might as well spend the night closing the distance between them.
How much we trust others is often a
reflection of how much we trust ourselves.
—Excerpt from
inding Mr. Right-for-You
by Dr. Kate
She didn’t call.
It was impossible to soothe the ache in his gut. Lucas rolled over and stared out the window, where dawn stretched, spreading gray across the midnight canvas. He pulled Kate’s pillow close, inhaling. The scent of her was nearly gone—that subtle lilac scent that perfumed her hair.
He’d been pleased with the interview, relieved that the words had come when he needed them, relieved that he’d survived the interview without cracking under the pressure. After the show aired the night before, he waited, pacing the floor until Bo tired of his excess energy and curled up at the foot of the sofa.
When the phone had rung, his feet made quick work of the distance to the kitchen, and he answered breathlessly, not caring if Kate knew he was waiting for her call.
But it had been his mom.
“Honey, I’m so sorry. I knew you loved
her, but I guess I just didn’t realize how much.”
She apologized for treating Kate badly and asked if he’d heard from her.
He didn’t give up hope until after midnight. And even though he turned off the lights and lay in bed, he still couldn’t sleep. His ears strained to hear the phone’s ring. He slept restlessly, awake as much as he was asleep, and now that morning had arrived, his hopes washed away like a sand castle at high tide.
He forced himself from bed, showered, and put on a pot of coffee, draining the first cup like it was medicine for his wounded spirit. When Bo picked up his tennis ball and carried it to the back door, he stood.
“Go for a walk, boy?”
He followed the dog outside, past the gazebo—a constant reminder of Kate and their wedding day. He crossed the beach and turned eastward, tossed the tennis ball into the surf, and watched Bo lumber after it.
Had Kate even watched the show? He knew from her voice mail that she’d been angry when she’d seen the preview. What if she hadn’t watched it?
Worse, what if she had? What if she heard his proclamation of love and didn’t feel the same way? What if he’d accomplished nothing other than publicly humiliating himself?
I’ve done all I can. She knows how I feel now. The rest is up to her.
Bo returned the ball, dropping it in the wet sand at Lucas’s feet. Lucas picked it up and heaved it into the waves before stuffing his hands into his pockets. His fingers wrapped around cool metal. Kate’s wedding band. He ran his thumb around the smooth surface. Its presence comforted him, like he carried a piece of her with him.
Bo turned in a circle, the tennis ball between his teeth, his paws dancing in the foamy sand. The sun glittered off the surface of the water like a million diamonds. When Lucas reached Bo, he tugged the wet ball from his jaws and threw it as far as he could down the shoreline, then followed Bo’s footprints.
Kate stepped off the ferry, her overnight case clutched in her hand. She’d left her car in Hyannis since there was no room on the ferry. Now as the crowd dissipated on the concrete dock, she wondered if she’d be able to get a cab.
She tugged the baseball cap low on her head to avoid recognition and pulled her sweater tighter against the nip in the air. The trees had fully turned, washing Nantucket down in vibrant hues of yellow and red.
Her phone pealed, and she moved to the side of the dock as she pulled her cell from her bag and checked the caller ID. It was Pam. Kate didn’t want to talk business; she wanted to get to Lucas. She was so close.
But her publicity gal wouldn’t call on a Saturday for nothing. Kate answered. “Hi, Pam. How are
you?”
“Good. Great. Have you seen the papers?”
Kate had seen nothing all night but the yellow lines on the road. And she’d given little thought to her career or what others would be saying. “No, why?” Kate was almost afraid to know, but Pam didn’t sound dismayed.
“It worked! Listen to this. ‘Dr. Kate’s counterfeit groom broke his silence on TV newsmagazine show
NewsWire
when he proclaimed his love for the well-known author and syndicated relationship columnist.’ Blah, blah, blah—backstory and quotes from the interview. Ah, here we go. ‘It seems, even in the case of unpredictable disasters, Dr. Kate’s own brand of relationship magic works like a charm. Even for herself.’”
Kate sank to the cement ledge overlooking the harbor. Through the phone, she heard the rattling of newspaper pages. “There are a dozen more just like it. And I caught it on several cable news programs this morning too. They keep running the portion of the interview where Lucas says”—she lowered her voice—“‘I guess I’m laying it all on the line. I love her. I have for a long time, and I always will.’ Oh, man, he has every woman in America fanning her face, Kate. I’ll bet your book is flying off the shelves as we speak.”
I can’t believe it. How have I gone from—
Something Pam had said earlier popped into her mind.
“It
worked.”
The words had been buried beneath the good news, but now they surfaced like a piece of driftwood through the sand, uncovered by the relentless wind.
Kate interrupted Pam. “Wait. You said ‘It worked.’ What did you mean?”
The rustling of paper stopped. A seagull swooped down and landed in the harbor, bobbing on the waves beside a fat buoy.
“You haven’t called him?” Pam’s tone revealed shock.
Dread filled Kate, numbing her to the fingertips. “What’s going on, Pam?” Her thoughts spun. Terrible thoughts that tortured her. “Was this just a ploy to fix my book sales?” She could choke on the acid that rose in her throat. Had Lucas only been pretending?
“No, sweetie, it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?” Her voice quavered.
Pam sighed loudly. “You should hear this from Lucas. Why didn’t you call him?”
Kate suddenly felt like a fool for driving all night like this was some 911 emergency. “I wanted to talk to him in person.” Her answer was feeble. Kate swallowed the acid and her pride. “I’m here now, on Nantucket.”
“Oh, I am such a dolt!” Kate imagined Pam smacking her own fore-head. “I’ve ruined everything. Go. Go talk to him. I’m hanging up now.”
“No, wait. Pam!” A click, then a dial tone buzzed in Kate’s ear. She jabbed the Off button and gulped three breaths of air, laden with salt and exhaust fumes. What was going on? Had Pam called Lucas and devised some scheme to get her book sales back on track? What if Lucas hadn’t meant any of it? But why would he have put himself through it if he didn’t love her?
Uh, the money?
She felt like a sailboat, pushed at the whimsy of the wind, and she’d just suffered a gust from an unexpected direction.
But this was the new Kate. The one who didn’t have to plan every action. She was going to go with the flow. And right now, she needed to find Lucas, find out if he meant what he said.
Kate stood, hitching the bag on her shoulder, and turned toward town.
When she reached Main Street, she hailed a cab and gave him the address. Though she hadn’t slept, the phone call and nervous energy at seeing Lucas again kept her alert.
What will I say to him? Do I have the courage to face him? To put
up my sails and let the wind take me where it may?
Her muscles tightened until they cramped. She relaxed her hold on the leather handle of the overnight bag as Lucas’s words returned to her:
“Love isn’t some item on a checklist.”
Maybe sometimes you had to loosen your grip. But it was scary. It required trust and faith. Two things she ran short on.
If there’s anyone I can trust, it’s Lucas.
Kate allowed herself that. Reminded herself it was true. He’d never given her any reason to distrust him.
“I love her. I have for a long time, and I always will.”
She’d played his words over and over on the drive, drinking them up, soothing her troubled spirit with the promise. But now she wondered if he meant them.
A picture of her mom flashed in her mind. She was hunched over the kitchen table in her terry bathrobe, a bottle of scotch in her bony hand. A photo album was open on the table in front of her, and her hand smoothed over the glossy page as if she stroked the face in the photo. How many times had she seen her mother like that, dying one memory at a time?
Kate shook the thought. She wasn’t her mother. And Lucas wasn’t her father. It was like he’d said all along. She needed to stop analyzing and let herself love him. Let herself be loved, if he was willing. She couldn’t think of anyone more trustworthy.
When the cab pulled in the drive, Kate withdrew some cash and paid the driver, then gathered her bag and exited the car. Lucas’s old truck was in the drive. He’d surely heard the cab on the gravel, yet even after it pulled away, the front door remained closed.
