The Goodbye Bride (34 page)

Well, no more.

Her eyes fell to the marker beside her, the minimal inscription on her father's grave a sad indicator of a life misspent.

“You know what, Daddy?” She rose to her feet, her legs regaining their strength. A light, fluttery feeling bloomed in her chest as she brushed the dirt from her hands.

“God's not like you. There are plenty of nice folk who aren't like you. And I don't want to be like you either.” Her voice was sure and strong. “The people who love me deserve better. I've got a good man. He loves me. He'll never leave me.”

The words sank down deep, filling in the empty places. Filling them to overflowing.

He'll never leave me.

He was always there for his family. He'd been there for her when she was sick, even when he'd been reeling over his dad's death. Had come for her in Portland when she'd needed him so badly. When he'd had no good reason to help her. When he'd owed her nothing but bitterness over the way she'd left.

She could overcome her fears. She could act courageously in the face of those fears. There was no way she would knowingly do to Zac what her father had done to her. She loved him far too much for that.

After one last look at the vibrant starflower, she turned to her father's grave. “I forgive you, Daddy,” she whispered, giving the headstone a sad smile.

Then she turned and worked her way toward the car, over the pine-strewn lawn, feeling the weight of a thousand boulders lifting from her shoulders.

Chapter 42

O
nce Lucy made her decision to return to Summer Harbor, she was suddenly eager to see Zac. She understood herself much better now. It was as if someone had shone a light into the dark recesses of her heart, illuminated her deepest fear. Her past behavior made sense now, and she needed to share what she'd learned with Zac. Needed to look him in the eyes and tell him how she felt, how she truly felt. She shook with the need to tell him.

But obstacles crowded her path. She had to wait a day for the next flight. Then her first plane was delayed. She paced the terminal, her legs trembling as though she'd had twelve shots of espresso. It finally took off an hour late, and when she arrived in LaGuardia, she hit the ground running, desperate to catch her next flight. She finally boarded the plane, breathless and jittery. Her knees bounced all the way to Bangor, making the woman in the next seat glare at her.

It wasn't until she pointed her car toward Summer Harbor that a terrifying thought emerged.

What if she was too late? What if Zac had decided she wasn't worth the effort?

Suddenly the excess energy channeled into nerves. A hard knot tightened in the pit of her stomach, constricting as she wound along the two-lane highway. By the time she entered the town, darkness had fallen, shrouding the hope that had blossomed inside.

When Lucy pulled into the Roadhouse parking lot, the Open light by the front door was off. There were three vehicles in the lot, including Zac's truck: the cleanup crew.

She pulled into her parking slot and shut off the ignition, the beam of her headlights extinguishing against the weathered shingles. Her hands trembled as she removed the keys, and her lungs worked to keep pace with her heart.

It had been four days since she'd left that note. Four days since she'd heard from him. He hadn't texted or called.

You asked him for space, silly.

But that meant he'd had space too. Space to reconsider the cost of loving her. It had been high for him in the past. She knew that now.

How many second chances did one person deserve?

Fear spread its cold, dark tentacles through her entire body. They encircled her heart, squeezing. Tightened around her lungs, impeding their expansion.

What if he said no? What if he didn't love her anymore? What if he . . .

Left her.

Her breath came in little gasps. Her heart kicked against her ribs. Her mouth dried. She closed her eyes against the familiar assault of fear.

Help me, God. It's only fear.

She knew the enemy by name, and she called it out.

The image of the starflower flashed in her mind, hardy stems
poking through hard earth. The vibrant blue flower was so real in her mind she could almost touch its tiny petals, almost smell its delicate fragrance and taste its sweet flavor.

Give me courage to take the next step, God. I'm helpless without You.

She eyed the darkened entrance of the restaurant. Zac was beyond that door, and she wasn't letting fear stand between them. Not again.

Pull it together, Lucy Lovett.

Her tight grip loosened on the steering wheel. She reached for the handle and opened the door, stepping out into the night. The familiar tang of the ocean filled her lungs as a cool breeze swept over her skin.

Her shoes crunched on the gravel as she made her way toward the entrance. Time slowed, making the short stretch feel like a mile. By the time she mounted the steps, her heart was pounding like a drum.

Interior lights illuminated the obscured glass. She reached for the handle. The door swung open quietly, and she stepped across the threshold, her eyes drifting across the room. Someone was putting up chairs, someone else pushing a broom.

Her eyes swept past them to the bar where Zac stood over the register, hands in the drawer. The sight of him stole her breath. A lock of black hair had given up its position, probably hours ago, flopping over his creased forehead. His brows were a dark slash over his deep-set eyes, his lips drawn into a tight line.

He was standing where he had been when she'd first seen him. But there was no upbeat tune playing on the jukebox tonight. No baseball game blaring from the TVs or sounds of happy chatter. Only the scrape of a chair. The quiet brush of the broom.

The jangle of the cash drawer as Zac pushed it closed.

He looked up from the register, his eyes catching on her. He froze, a fistful of cash clutched in his big hand. The lines in his forehead smoothed, and his lips parted as his gaze raked over her.

Her feet stopped, grew roots, as her heart palpitated. She searched his familiar face. The bristle of his jaw. The soft curve of his upper lip. The straight line of his nose. Her gaze landed on his piercing gray eyes, and for the first time in days, her soul settled into place.

She loved this man. She loved him so much. The love—it was stronger than the fear. This need to love him the way he deserved to be loved. To put his needs before her own.

Perfect love casts out fear.

She'd heard the scripture more times than she could count, but she hadn't understood until now. When her concern was for Zac, her selfish fears evaporated. As love for him consumed her, the fear lifted, setting her free.

“I love you,” she blurted.

The room came to a standstill. Gone were the swish of the broom, the clattering of the chairs. Three sets of eyes stared back.

Her face heated as she searched Zac's face for some clue as to his response, but his eyes were unfathomable. She bit the inside of her lip.

“Can I get you guys to clear out?” His eyes never left hers. The scrape of his voice was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.

The employees scuttled from the room.

Zac skirted the counter slowly, moving toward her with that masculine grace, his eyes intense, holding her captive. Something shifted in his face as he neared. Something hungry and determined.

Her breath caught and held, her lungs incapable of expansion. So much to say. So much filling her, she wanted to burst with it. “I have so much to—”

His mouth closed over hers, deliberate and demanding, his arms drawing her against him.

She clung to him in relief, surrendering to his kiss. It wasn't too late. He still wanted her. Still loved her. The proof was in the possessive swoop of his lips, the sure grip of his embrace.

The kiss slowly morphed, gentling until she felt as if she might melt into a puddle. He cupped the back of her head, and she slid her fingers into the softness of his hair. The spicy scent of him washed over her, bathing her in need.

He'd been so patient with her. Far more so than she deserved. Her fingers tightened at his nape as love for him overwhelmed her.

“I love you,” she gasped into the space between them, needing him to believe her.

He paused in his tender ministrations, his lips hovering over hers. His eyes opened, searching hers.

“I never stopped loving you,” she said. “Not in all the time I was gone.”

Something in his eyes shifted, warming. His lips curled upward. “Neither did I, Georgia.”

His lips met hers in a lingering kiss, soft and coaxing. She lost herself in his touch, her heart racing with desire. When her mouth parted, he took full advantage. His arms tightened around her and he lifted her off her feet, bringing her to his level.

She wanted to stay right here, right in his arms for the rest of her life. There was still so much to say. But he wanted her, loved her, without explanation, and that alone made her feel as if she would burst with love for him.

A moment later he drew away, setting his forehead against hers. “I missed you.”

“I'm sorry I was gone so long. I had so much to sort through and—”

“Are you okay?”

She breathed a laugh. “More okay than I've been in all my life.”

“Then that's all that matters.”

“I have so much to tell you.” She glanced down at the distant floor and gave him a tiny grin. “Maybe you should put me down so we can talk.”

“Oh no.” He scooped up her legs, cradling her easily. “I'm not letting you go anytime soon. At least a month or two.”

“Your staff might find that rather odd.”

“I don't care what anyone thinks.”

She roped her arms around his neck as he carried her into his office and settled on the couch with her in his lap.

“I guess you're serious about this not letting go stuff.”

His eyes flashed. “Darn right. You can talk from here.”

She could live with that. She snuggled into the curve of his arm, letting his warmth seep into her. “I guess, first of all, I should set something straight. Back when I told you my dad died, that wasn't the whole story. He didn't die until later, not until I was in college.”

He tilted his head, his brow creasing. “But you said your aunt raised you . . .”

“That's right. She did.” Lucy drew a deep breath and told him everything that had happened—everything—from her idyllic early childhood to the trauma of her mother's passing to the day she came home to find her father packing.

She met his eyes, needing him to understand the depth of her pain. “He was leaving me. He said he just needed a break, but I
knew . . . I knew. I was kicking and screaming as he carried me to the neighbor's house, and I was so afraid.”

He winced. “Ah, honey. I'm so sorry.”

She swallowed against the knot in her throat. Blinked against the burning behind her eyes. “That day last fall . . . when I came here and found you packing . . .”

Realization dawned on his face. “You thought I was leaving you—just like your dad.”

Her eyes filled, and she blinked against the tears.

“Aw, baby . . .” He cupped her cheek, looking at her with such conviction. “I wouldn't do that. I will never leave you.”

The words made her soul sigh. “I know that. I know that now. Leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life. I've left so many people in the dust because of my fears. But losing you was the worst. It scared me so badly. I swore I'd never love again. In Portland I settled for Brad. He never had my heart, so I knew he couldn't break it.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, the barest of brushes, their breaths mingling between them. “It's all in the past now.”

He swept her tears away as she told him the rest of the story. Everything from her despair that first night in Savannah to her epiphany at Daddy's grave the day before. Everything just tumbled out, unedited and raw.

He listened, only an occasional murmur or sympathetic smile to urge her on.

When she was finished, she felt as light as a helium-filled balloon. “I've been thinking I might start seeing a counselor, just for a while. Just to get all my thoughts and feelings squared away. I don't want anything to spoil what we have.”

“Whatever you want, honey. I'm proud of you. Is there anything I can do?”

She placed a palm on his bristly cheek, relishing the familiar feel of it. “Just let me love you.”

He gave a hint of a smile. “I think I can manage that.” His eyes pierced hers, growing in intensity, the color deepening to smoky gray. “For the rest of my life, if you'd like . . .”

Her gaze sharpened on him. Her heart beat up into her throat. Hope bloomed, colorful and breathless and beautiful.

“Marry me, Lucy.” His low voice rumbled in her chest. “I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

He was so much more than she deserved. “Oh, Zac.”

“I'm not letting you get away again.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” she said on a soft breath.

He kissed her. Long and slow and sweet. A low hum worked its way through her, making her dizzy. Her love for him was deeper than the fathomless sea, bigger than the clear blue sky, brighter than the noonday sun.

When he drew away a moment later, it was only to tuck her close, resting his cheek on her head.

Drained, she curled into his chest, clutching his shirt. She drew in the smell of him and exhaled quickly so she could do it all over again. His heart beat strong and steady against her ear. That was her Zac. Strong and steady
.

“I will never leave you.”
His words echoed through her mind, a promise her heart would remember always.

Epilogue

T
wo months later, Zac hadn't let up on his promise to keep Lucy close. He watched her skirt a table, then stop at a booth to take an order. When she'd offered to fill in for one of his sick servers, he hadn't complained. He loved having her nearby as he worked. Watching her hitch the tray on the curve of her waist, seeing her flash that dimple when she laughed, hearing that soft, slow drawl that drove him crazy.