I dumped my keys on the table as I entered the house. “I’m back and I’ve got the magazine, love.”
Luca had been getting some writing in while I spent the morning out running errands. For several months, I’d been hibernating with her until I had to leave for the European leg of the tour.
The plan was that she would stay here in Vermont while I was gone. When I returned, we would venture out west together in the mansion on wheels I’d purchased. Then we’d divide our time among California, Vermont, and the open road.
I threw the magazine on the bed. Luca grabbed it and examined the cover. It was a photo of us where my arms were wrapped around Luca as we both smiled for the camera. The title was: Cole Archer: Meet the Real Luca.
“Oh my God. I look so Photoshopped.” She ran her hand over her face on the cover. “I kind of like it.” She laughed.
“You look beautiful, Photoshopped or not. I, on the other hand, look like Hortencia’s arsehole.”
“Do you think we did the right thing? I mean, there’s no going back now.”
“This was the only choice we had. If you want the press to leave you alone somewhat, you have to nip things in the bud, take control of the situation. You give them what they want on your terms so they have nothing left to chase after.”
She fanned through the pages. “Did you read it?”
“I did. I had to make sure there were no surprises before I let you see it. They did a good job on it. I suppose my threatening legal action if they so much as altered one word of our verbiage helped.”
We’d sold the rights to our entire love story, told from start to finish, to a reputable national magazine. The cover feature rendered us $3 million, which we donated in Isabella’s name to a hospital that treated burn victims.
If Luca was truly going to be in my day-to-day life, I knew I couldn’t hide her. People were going to find out who she was whether I liked it or not. If there was one thing I’d learned about the press over the years, it was not to run away from them. Run toward them. Give them what they wanted before they even knew they wanted it.
“You want to read it now?” I asked.
“Maybe in a bit. I have to gear myself up for it.”
“Okay, good, because I want to show you something first.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
I rolled up my sleeve to reveal the fresh ink I’d just gotten tattooed onto my inner forearm. I’d gone to the same artist who had tattooed the sun, moon, and stars design onto Luca’s arm and asked him to replicate it on mine.
She gasped and covered her mouth.
I examined her face. “I can’t tell if you love it or if you’re thoroughly freaked out.”
She laughed. “Oh my God. No, I love it. It’s perfect. It’s identical to mine. He really did a great job.”
“I truly feel like your Izzy has been instrumental in guiding us back together. I wanted to honor her. I know it was supposed to be her getting the matching tattoo with you, but I hope I can stand in her place . . . in her honor.”
“She would have loved you, Griff.”
“Yeah?”
“You know . . . I used to talk to her about you a lot. And she’d say, ‘I think that British boy is your soul mate.’ I didn’t see it so clearly then, never imagined I would ever even have a chance to meet you. I knew you and I had a connection for sure but never thought of you as being my soul mate. But now I know she was right. She had a sense about it that I didn’t.”
“Thank you for sharing that. I love her even more now.”
She ran her finger over the clear bandage, looking pensive.
“What are you thinking about?”
Her question threw me for a loop. “When we were apart . . . did you ever . . . ?”
She hesitated to finish her question. But I knew what she was asking.
“Did I ever fuck anyone else?”
She nodded.
I’d had opportunities to sleep with other women while Luca and I were apart. I couldn’t lie and say there weren’t times when I’d thought about getting it over with in an attempt to try to forget the pain of her breaking up with me. But in the end, I didn’t want anyone else, and my gut told me I’d regret it.
“A part of me just knew, Luca. I knew that somehow we’d end up back together. I didn’t want to have to look you in the eyes and tell you that I had slept with someone else. If you’d taken years to come around, I’m not sure I could have been alone for that amount of time, but I’m so glad you didn’t make me wait too long. It honestly never felt like you weren’t a part of me, even when we were separated. I never had the desire for anyone but you. And no, I wasn’t with anyone. I’m glad I was true to you.”
A breath of relief escaped her. “I’d been so afraid to bring it up. But it was bothering me, and I just had to know.”
“I’m glad you finally asked.” I was curious. “Would it have changed things between us if I had been with someone else?”
“No. I would have understood, although it would have been upsetting. But I’m relieved.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Anyone I have to murder?”
“Not unless it’s a Furby.”
Luca was making me so proud lately. The other day, she’d come with me to the pet store in the middle of the afternoon, and today we’d ventured to the supermarket for the first time during the day.
What seemed like a simple thing for most people was in fact a huge step for her. But ever since we got back together, she was more determined than ever to challenge her fears. I hoped that one day she’d be able to fly in planes and attend one of my concerts, but one step at a time. I knew I’d never force her to do anything she wasn’t ready for.
“How are you doing?” I asked as we approached the grocery store from the parking lot.
She blew out a breath. “Anxious. But even if I poop my pants, I’m not running away.”
“If you poop your pants, love, I’ll be the one running away.” I winked.
She managed a laugh despite her nerves.
Squeezing her hand, I held on to her as we made our way through the sliding glass doors. The bright fluorescent lights greeted us. It was the afternoon, so while more crowded than the middle of the night, the market wasn’t mobbed by any means.
“You okay?”
She nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
“What now?” she asked.
“Now? We put one foot in front of the other and we shop.”
This was what it was all about. One step at a time. I was thrilled when she’d told Doc not to come, that she would be okay with just me. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate all that he’d done for her, but she’d be leaving Vermont soon enough and needed to learn to lean on me—until she didn’t need to lean on anyone at all.
We came upon the watermelons.
“What was that trick, babe? Show me again how you pick the best one.”
I didn’t really want to know, but it was a good way to get her mind off her nerves.
She lifted one of them and demonstrated. “You have to hold it up to your ear and tap it with your finger. If it’s hollow, it’s perfect.”
I pulled her toward me and nestled my head in her neck, taking in a long whiff of her scent. My cheek landed on her chest, and I could feel her heart beating against me. Then I tapped gently on her breast and placed my ear on her heart.
She laughed. “What are you doing?”
“Yup. I’ve found the one for me. I’ve most definitely picked the best.”
