Page 17 of Jack of Hearts

Lucy stops and when she turns I can see that she’s crying.

I make a move to head towards the, but Dane stops me.

“What the fuck is happening right now?” I ask.

“Shelby’s parents were killed in a drunk driving accident. Lucy’s dad was the driver,” Dane says.

“Damn.”

“Exactly.”

We’re both on edge watching our women talk quietly, and then they’re embracing.

Relief pours over me, nearly making me weak kneed. Then Lucy climbs up into my truck and closes the door. Shelby walks back to us.

“She thought I hated her.” She wipes her hands on thighs, then looks at me. “She’s pretty shaken up. Maybe we could reschedule this reunion for another day. When we’re not ambushed by unpleasant memories.” Shelby reaches out and grabs my hand. “In case she didn’t believe me, I, nor any of my siblings have ever blamed Lucy for what happened. She was a kid. I think she’s somehow been punishing herself all these years. Probably why people rarely see her.”

And why she hides herself underneath an oversized hoodie when she does go into the diner.

“Thanks,” tell her. “I’m gonna take her home, but we’ll reconnect.”

“Yes,” Dane says. “Soon.”

“This place looks awesome, by the way,” I tell him as I run back to my truck. “Can’t wait to get the full tour.”

With that I climb back into my truck and throw it into reverse. We make it off of the dirt road that leads to Dane’s, and then I pull over.

“I didn’t know she’d be there,” Lucy says.

“Come’re baby.” I pull her into my lap.

“No one blames you for that.”

“Sure they do. Sins of the father and all. Plus, it’s why Nana pulled me from public schools. She said people would be too mean to me.”

“I’m sure she was just trying to protect you. You were a child, Pocket, no one would blame a child for something their parents did.”

She buries her face into my neck. “I’m sorry you couldn’t stay with your friend.”

“I’m not. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

chapter

nine

Lucy

It’s amazing how easily we fall into a rhythm over the next couple of weeks. We work during the day; I sculpt and he fixes one thing after another in the house. Then we share our meals before falling into bed for a night of passionate sex. Or on the couch, the kitchen counter, kitchen table and against several walls.

He’s insatiable and so am I. I can’t get enough of the feel of his skin, or the smell of him, or of his kisses. Every time my heart tries to whisper things to me about our feelings, I turn up my music or turn on my blow torch. I will not think about such things.

I don’t need to slow down to process it. I don’t even need to think it through. I know I’m in love with him. He’s amazing. Gentle and funny and smart and talented. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted and I feel so at ease with him. Feel more myself than I’ve ever felt before.

He’s also helped me see the truth about myself and this town. For so long I always just believed that I didn’t quite fit in. That I was too loud, too curvy, too tattooed, too pink-haired, too pierced, just too much for all of them. So I was friendly with people, but never really had any close friends.

Reconnecting with Shelby helped. I guess I never realized how much I took on the burden of my dad’s action. Knowing that none of Shelby’s family or anyone else actually blamed me absolved me of that. I’m sure I’ll still be apprehensive. It didn’t alleviate my anxiety since that’s rooted in earlier wounds than my father’s drunk driving. But I’m beginning to see myself differently.

But here in this short amount of time, Jack has become my best friend. I’m going to tell him that as soon as he’s back from the hardware store. I can’t tell him the other thing. That I L-O-V-E him. It’s too soon. I’m not even gonna say that to myself.