Merry Ever After (Under the Mistletoe collection)

Chapter Six Luke

Chapter Six

Luke

M aybe I’ve made a mistake.

It’s New Year’s Day, and a week has passed with no sign of Evie, the girl who ripped the soul clean out of my body on her living room floor. I meant what I said: I’ll never recover from the feel of her. That lack of recovery has come in the form of staring off into space when I’m meant to be tending the farm, like now.

There’s a fence that needs mending and a field waiting to be plowed, but I’m battling a terrible dread in my stomach that makes it hard to motivate myself. To move. To do anything but sit here on the porch, in the wooden chair built by my grandfather, and wonder how I could have done things differently.

For starters, I shouldn’t have left. At the time, with her clamming up on me and panicking, it seemed like the only option. To give her that space. But I’d just got finished telling her I wanted forever, so maybe I made myself seem unreliable by leaving. Wishy-washy. That’s the last thing I am when it comes to Evie. I know what I want.

I want her.

No, need .

I need to wake up every morning with my nose buried in her red hair.

I need those clever eyes to twinkle at me when I say something funny.

I need to break my back working in the field, knowing I’ve got her waiting at home.

Most of all, perhaps, I need her to trust me. I’m not some boy who cuts and runs. When I make a commitment, I keep it. And if Evie somehow decides to be with me, I’d be making one to her and Sonny. Hell, I’d be honored to give that child the space he needs to run around, to grow. To be a kid.

I lean forward in my chair, resting my elbows on my knees and folding my hands together. My head drops forward, a deep sigh welling in my chest. I’m not going to make it much longer before I go see Evie and try again. I pushed too hard, too fast, didn’t I? Foisted the farm on her. What my land and home could be for her and Sonny.

Same way I did with my family.

On top of being too intense, I made love to her like a brute, but hot damn, I’ve never felt anything so wet and hot in my thirty-three years. Never heard sweeter sounds than her sobs for me to drive deeper. Never felt like my heart and head and testosterone were aligned so perfectly, everything inside me shouting, This is your home.

She is your home.

Did I just tell myself what I wanted to hear?

I’m starting to think so ...

My head comes up when I hear an unfamiliar sound. It sounds like wind, so I look across the field at my turbine on instinct, as if I might find it malfunctioning, but no. It turns, reliably lazy, in the wind. What the hell is that sound? Thinking it might be something inside making the whooshing sound, I stand up, preparing to go check. That’s when something coming up the road leading to the house catches my eye.

When I realize what I’m seeing, my heart drops clear down to my ankles, then shoots straight back up into my mouth. Somehow, I know it’s a vision that will stay with me until I take my last breath.

It’s Evie on the bike, riding toward my house, Sonny in the baby seat on the back.

My feet are rooted to the ground even though my brain is telling me to go meet her halfway. Or at the very least, meet her in front of the house. Don’t be caught standing there staring like a zombie. I don’t manage to propel myself into action until she’s about fifty yards from the porch, making it to the bottom step as she glides to a stop, her red hair tumbling around behind her in the breeze while Sonny grabs for it with puny fingers.

It takes me a moment to speak, mainly because she’s fucking breathtaking in a blue sundress, with straps that tie behind her neck, and she’s smiling at me.

“I was starting to think you’d never come,” I manage.

Her smile dims and we look at each other for several quiet seconds, nothing but the breeze and Sonny’s gurgles to fill the silence, and I swear, I can feel the years ahead locking into place, creating a life where a totally different one existed before. For both of us.

“Well, here I am,” she murmurs finally. “I made you something.”

“Did you?”

She nods, twisting the handlebars in her grip. “It was impulsive. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but ...” She exhales on a laugh. “Maybe I should wait to give it to you—”

“No, please. I’d like to see it. Whatever it is.”

With a swallow, she reaches into the woven basket on the front of the bike and takes out a folded length of material. Navy blue. I take it from her, turn it over in my hands, but I can’t tell exactly what it is until I let it unravel.

It’s a baby sling. A king-size one that will fit me.

Unexpected heat presses in behind my eyes, fast and furious, my heart beating loudly in my ears. It’s the most incredible gift she could have given me, because it’s a symbol of her trust. Trust I’m sure wasn’t easy to give.

Unable to speak, I put on the sling and go around to the baby seat and unstrap Sonny, then tuck him carefully into the swatch of material, until I’m satisfied that he’s nestled safely against my chest. When I finally feel like I’m not going to be swept off in a tide of emotion, I kiss my woman while her son squirms between us. If I have my way, it’ll be the first of ten million kisses. More.

“You’re both welcome here as often as you want, Evie,” I say against her mouth, voice gruff, my heart telling me not to hold back even after all the self-doubt I’ve been living with for a week. “You’re welcome forever, if you want it.”

She searches my eyes. “ Forever sounded less and less scary every day I spent away from you.”

A knot ties itself tight in my throat. “You let me know when it’s no longer scary at all, Evie Crowe.”

“I will, Luke Ward.”

We hold hands on our way into the house. I’m pretty sure I don’t let go for hours.