The Goodbye Bride (25 page)

Zac gave two sharp raps on his aunt's screen door and eased it open. “Knock-knock.”

The savory smell of meat loaf lingered in the air, and a reality show played on the TV. The screen door slapped shut behind him.

Aunt Trudy frowned up at him from the recliner where she was knitting up a storm. “What do you want?”

“I just stopped by to see my favorite aunt.”

“Humph.”

“Where's Beau?”

“He's out with Eden, probably scheming up ways to get me out of this house so they can live together in perfect harmony.”

He settled on the sofa. “Now, Aunt Trudy, they love having you around.”

“That's what they say now, but I know how it is. A couple newlyweds aren't going to want an old widow hanging around.”

“You aren't old, and you're the one who got them together in the first place, with all your mistletoe mischief.”

“Well, I didn't think it'd lead to this!”

He smothered a smile. “To what? Your nephew happier than the day is long? Come on, Aunt Trudy, this has got to stop.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Her needles waved at dizzying speeds.

“I'm talking about you and Sheriff Colton.”

Her lips flattened as she sent him the look of death. “What in heaven's name does that man have to do with anything?”

He tilted his head, giving her a look. “I overheard your argument Saturday. My table was just around the corner from yours.”

The needles stopped. Her lips went lax, the corners of her eyes tightening. Just as quickly, her fingers went back to work, her lips pursing.

“Why didn't you ever tell us you'd dated the sheriff?”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Not so long ago that you're over it.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Of course I'm over it.”

“Are you?”

The needles clacked together, her fingers moving quick and sure. If anything, her pace had picked up. Her face paled, and the frown between her brows grew more prominent.

He leaned closer and put his hand over hers, stilling her. “Aunt Trudy . . . were you in love with him?”

She looked up, something he'd never seen before shining in her blue eyes. Vulnerability.

His heart softened. “Why doesn't anyone know?”

She shook her head, her eyes falling to the fuzzy blue square. “Daddy didn't approve of him. His father was the town drunk, and his family was dirt poor.”

“You went to school together.”

She gave a sharp nod. “He was on the basketball team and about to lose his playing privileges senior year because of his grades. I tutored him in math and . . . one thing led to another.”

“And no one knew?”

She said nothing for a good minute. But just as Zac was beginning to think she'd shut down, she started talking.

“No one knew except my best friend, Annabelle. We sneaked around that first summer. My mama was bedridden by then, and I cared for her full time. Then Danny started college in the fall. I don't think he even would've gone if it hadn't been for me. He wanted Daddy's approval, wanted to take me out publicly. I missed him so much when he was gone, but I waited for him. I lived for his summer breaks. He was doing so well on his basketball team, and just when I thought he was finally coming home to me, he got drafted by the Celtics.”

“He left you.”

“Oh, I was furious. He hadn't even told me he'd been hoping
for a basketball career. I was stuck at home with my mama, and then there was . . . well, none of that matters now.”

He curled his hand around hers. “But it does. He's here now, and there's nothing standing in your way.”

She swiped a finger under her eye. “It's too late for us. There's more, things I'm never going to tell you, so you may as well give it up. I married your uncle Tom, and I don't regret it for a minute.”

But she still loved Danny Colton. She didn't have to say it. It was right there on her face. Zac thought of how antagonistic she was toward the man. It was only a defense mechanism. She was trying to protect her heart.

“He hurt you.”

“I meant what I said, Zac Callahan. It's too late for us. There's too much water under the bridge. But you . . .”

He reared back. “What about me?”

Her sparse brows hiked above her readers.

“Lucy?”

“Don't act all surprised. You know the two of you are meant to be. You need to stop this foolishness and just give in before it's too late. Look what happens when you wait too long, make too many mistakes. Next thing you know, you're fifty-nine years old and alone, that's what. You Callahan men, you only love once, so don't blow your second chance. Stop being so stubborn and put yourselves out of misery.”

Zac was numb as he drove home awhile later. Shell-shocked. He couldn't believe Aunt Trudy was pushing for Lucy. She wasn't an easy woman to win over. It was enough to give him pause for thought.

Was he being stubborn, keeping Lucy at arm's length? Was he doing what Aunt Trudy was doing? Building a wall around his
heart so Lucy couldn't hurt him again? Was there anything wrong with that?

Or maybe there was a better question: Was pushing her away in their best interest? Lucy loved him . . . or thought she did.

He remembered the kiss they shared when they'd lost electricity. He could still feel her lips against his, feel her heart beating against him. He hadn't needed to see into her eyes to know she wanted him. He could feel it in her touch, in her kiss.

She'd distanced herself after he'd pushed her away, and things hadn't been the same since. But tonight . . . the way she looked at him after she grabbed his shirt and pulled him close. Despite her recent distance there was something there. He wasn't the only one trying to protect himself.

What if he did give them another chance? What if he found the courage to let her in again? His stomach clenched at the thought, fear warring with desire.

What if he lost his heart to her again, only to have her memory return?

Who are you kidding, Callahan? She's had your heart all along.

Besides, it had been over five weeks, and she hadn't retrieved a single memory. Maybe it was never coming back. In which case he'd be a fool to let her go. What they'd shared had been special. Maybe it didn't even matter why she'd left him. Whatever had caused that decision was gone. In the past. Lost, perhaps forever, to Lucy and to him.

If things continued as they were, she'd eventually fall for someone else. He'd lose her forever like Sheriff Colton had lost Aunt Trudy. Was he willing to risk that?

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. That was the question. He just needed to figure out the answer.

When he got home, he took the back stairs to his apartment. He would let his staff close tonight for a change. He couldn't seem to shut off his mind or sit still, so he put in an hour on his weights, pushing himself to the limits. Afterward, muscles aching, he was still teeming with energy, so he went for a run in the cool night air, praying as his feet pounded the boardwalk.

What should I do? Show me the way.

The quiet night and the briny smell of the ocean soothed his troubled spirit.

When the Roadhouse came into sight, he slowed his steps, cooling down. He hit the shower, his mind still spinning with indecision, and threw on a T-shirt and shorts. He'd hoped the exercise would wear him out, but instead it had only energized him.

His hair was still wet on his nape when a tap sounded at his door. When he opened it to find Lucy looking up at him, he froze. In the shadowed hall her eyes were the deep blue of the harbor.

Her dimple made a brief appearance. “Sorry to bother you. The band's getting ready to leave, and they want to know if they're still on for next weekend.”

He watched the words form on her lips. She had such nice lips. Like a Cupid's bow and a delicate shade of pink. They could be so soft and pliant and giving.

“Zac?”

He blinked, wrenching his eyes from her lips only to fall back into her sea-blue eyes. “Ayuh. They're on the schedule.”

She blinked, her long lashes making shadows on her porcelain skin. “All—all right. I'll let them know.”

When she turned to go, he felt a cord stretching between them, pulling at him. His feet wanted to follow her. His arms
ached to gather her close. His lips yearned to say the words he'd clung to for so long.

But something held him back. “I'll be down in a minute to close up.”

“It's pretty much finished,” she said over her shoulder. “I'll make sure it's locked up. You deserve a night off.”

“Thanks.”

As vulnerable and confused as he was feeling, that was probably for the best. It wouldn't help to send mixed signals when he still didn't know what the heck he wanted.

He shut the door and resumed pacing, Aunt Trudy's words playing like a recorder in his ear.
“Look what happens when you wait too long, make too many mistakes. Next thing you know, you're fifty-nine years old and alone.”

He didn't know all the mistakes his aunt had made. But years from now, would he look back on tonight and know that doing nothing had been the worst mistake of his life?

His stomach twisted hard. That thought packed a punch. Deep inside, the truth hit home. Lucy was the love of his life. He'd known it from the moment she'd first perched up on that bar stool, nearly falling off, when she'd blushed so adorably. Wasn't what they'd had worth a second chance? Wasn't it worth the chance of heartbreak?

He believed everything happened for a reason. Maybe all this—Lucy's concussion, her move back here—maybe all of it had happened so they could be together again. A second chance. Wasn't that what he'd wished for, what he'd prayed for, for months after she'd left?

God had thrown this opportunity into his lap, and what had he done? Pushed it away. Pushed her away. What an idiot. How
long did he really think he could resist her anyway? He'd always been a helpless fool when it came to Lucy.

What are you waiting for then, Callahan?

What
was
he waiting for?

He headed for the door, his long strides making quick work of the space. Now that he'd made up his mind, he couldn't get to her soon enough. He took the stairs and started down the hall toward Lucy's room, but was drawn instead toward the dining room by a country jig that was blaring from the jukebox.

The room was empty save for Lucy, who was turning chairs up onto the tables. The floor hadn't been swept or mopped yet, and judging from the quiet kitchen, everyone else was gone for the night.

Lucy finished the table and sashayed toward the next one, stopping to wiggle her hips to the beat. She did a little spin, and her toe caught on a chair leg. She pitched forward, catching herself. Then she straightened and added a little shoulder shimmy to cover.

His lips tilting, he leaned against the threshold, content to watch her in full Lucy mode.

The song ended with a couple of hearty beats, which she accented with a dramatic hitch kick that shook the nearby tables.

Even as his lips twitched, the backs of his eyes burned. Lucy. His Lucy. He still loved her. So much.

She reached for another chair as the soft strains of “Hope You Get Lonely Tonight” filled the room.

Lucy's movements slowed as she swayed to the music, her body moving in time with the song's rhythm. Her lips moved to the words, her expressions stage-worthy. Between chairs she threw in a shuffle followed by a sexy little hip swivel. The tune transitioned to the chorus, and she waltzed to the next table, spinning.

She mesmerized him. She owned him. How was it he was the last one to know?

She did another little spin and, as she came to a stop, her eyes swept over him. They came back in a double take. The expression fell from her face as her mouth snapped shut. Her hands stilled on the tabled chair. A pretty pink flush climbed her cheeks.

His breath caught in his lungs. A wave of tension stretched taut between them, tugging. This time he didn't fight the pull.

Chapter 30

L
ucy froze, her eyes stuck on Zac as she rewound the last minute or so in her head. That saying,
Dance like no one's watching
, caught in her head. Only they were. He was.

Boy, was he. The look in his eyes made it hard to breathe. Her pulse raced, and not from the dancing.

He moved toward her, his steps bringing him closer and closer. He was looking at her in a way he hadn't in so very long.

She couldn't tear her eyes away.

His feet shuffled to a stop when he was a breath away. The music faded away and silence filled the gap. Tension wove around them, its sticky threads pulling at her.

“I'm done fighting this, Lucy,” he said in a low rumble.

Her breath escaped as her heart rate accelerated. A low hum moved through her body, bringing every cell to life. She shouldn't need him so desperately. It was dangerous to her well-being. Her eyes dropped to the collar of his T-shirt.

She didn't know if she could take another rejection. Her heart was still mending from the last time he'd walked away.

His fingers lifted her chin until her eyes met his again. She
clung to the smoky need she saw there. The heart wanted what it wanted. And hers wanted him. So badly.

“Come here, Georgia.” He lowered his head until his tantalizing breath fell on her lips. He hovered there for an excruciating moment before his lips met hers. Soft and careful, like she was a precious treasure.

He continued to kiss her, and she gave back move for move. Her arms roped around him and he gathered her close, lifting her to her tiptoes. Her lips moved against his, want coursing through her veins like fire. Her fingers threaded into the damp hair at his nape.

His strong arms felt like heaven's embrace, and she was lost. His kiss was a warm summer day after a cold, hard winter. It was a tall glass of ice water after a long run. It was a soft bed after an impossible day.