Split(77)
“Come on in.” Gabby shows us the space and explains she has somewhere to be soon, so excuses herself to get ready. I stand back in the corner and watch in awe as Lucas moves around the space. Focused, his gaze slides along every surface in a visual caress while the creative wheels spin inside his head.
He stops at corners to do quick measurements, then moves to the next. In the kitchen it’s more of the same. Study, move, measure. Study, move, measure.
Every time he lifts his arms, I get a flash of his firm stomach and a strip of dark hair that disappears into his jeans. The long, corded muscles of his arms flex with every pull of the tape measure and images of being held in those arms have me squirming.
“Okay.” He doesn’t face me but shoves his things into his pocket, indicating he’s finished.
“Get what you need?”
He nods and quickly moves through the house, then outside to wait in his truck while I say goodbye to Gabby and let her know my dad will be in touch with a proposal.
The walk back to the truck is like marching to my own execution, because while I care deeply for Lucas, I can’t be with someone capable of murder. I’ve read the news accounts of what happened to Lucas’s family, but there are still unanswered questions, and before I walk away from this man for good, I will get the truth.
Just like Momma always said, like a dog with a bone.
TWENTY-SIX
LUCAS
If I didn’t know better, I’d think Nash Jennings hates my guts.
That’s the only explanation I can come up with for the torture he’s putting me through. Having Shyann so close, stuck in my truck with her and that penetrating stare, all while knowing I can’t have her.
The only thing worse is not seeing her at all.
She waves goodbye to Mrs. Anderson and I wipe my clammy hands on my thighs, forcing my pulse to slow. I blame my rapid heart rate on Mrs. Anderson. There’s nothing wrong with the woman, but women of her age, especially those who are confident, remind me of a time in my life I’d rather forget.
“Hey, sorry that took so long.” The corner of Shy’s mouth hooks up in a shaky smile, making me want to press my fingertips against her lips and soothe her nerves. “Do you . . . uh . . . have some time so we can talk?”
“No.” I don’t want to hear her talk about all the reasons why whatever we had didn’t work, don’t want to hear her confirm all the ways I’m not good enough for her. I turn from my leaning position on the hood of my truck and slide into the driver’s seat.
Her shoulders deflate and she climbs in beside me. I fire up the engine, hoping she’ll leave it alone, not force me to confess how miserable I’ve been not seeing her, how much I’ve missed her friendship, how often I’ve dreamt of her lips.
She cocks her knee and turns, facing my side head-on. “Lucas, there’s something I need to say to you and I’ll say it while you’re driving, but I think it would be better . . . safer . . . if we went somewhere to talk.”
My hands grip the steering wheel tighter. “You don’t need to explain. I understand.”
I catch a glimpse of her confusion from the corner of my eye. “What do you mean, you understand?”
“I don’t want you to feel unsafe with me, Shyann, but I can’t change what I am.”
“What are you?” she whispers.
“I’m split.” I don’t look at her but I can feel her eyes boring into me.
“Pull over.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The sooner I get away from her the better chances I have of not falling at her feet, begging for another chance.
Her warm hand touches my biceps and the muscle jumps in response. “Please.”
“Don’t. I can’t . . .” I lick my lips, forcing any excuse I can find out of my throat. “I can’t afford any trouble. You know I can’t. Even the guy at the feed store has warned me—”
“Hold on. Who?” There’s anger in her voice and my already amped up emotional state has me seeing spots. “What did Dustin say?”
“It doesn’t matter.” We stop at a red light and I chance a look. “I think it’s best we stay away from each other.”
Her eyelids flutter and she shakes her head. “No, Lucas—”
“You were right to avoid me. As much as it hurts to let you go, to see you and feel so far away, I can live with that kind of torture. I welcome it even, because I know the pain of not having you means you’re safe.” The light turns green and I’m forced to pull my eyes away from her.
“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you, Lucas. I want to talk to you about why, but first, let me straighten something out.” The heat of her hand rests on my thigh and she leans in close. “Dustin and Gage have some bad blood between them. You remember I told you about that, right?”
“I remember you told me about the bar. I didn’t know that was him.” I think back to his words. It’s a little late for an apology, don’t you think? “Makes more sense now.”
“Dustin knows how I feel about you.”
“How do you feel about me, Shy?” I practically choke on my own nerves.
She sighs, and I can feel her looking at me, but I can’t meet her gaze. “I feel more than I’ve felt in a long time when I’m with you. I’m scared, Lucas, because . . .”