Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Luke

G retchen sent word that she had my favorite breakfast—runny eggs and toast—waiting in the kitchen. I felt like I was ten again as I hurried past the breakfast room where guests were helping themselves to whatever overly lavish breakfast fare Mom had ordered for the morning. I passed Dad’s study and stopped short as I heard my mom’s voice slide out into the hallway.

“This is a perfect match, and I can tell Luke is smitten. Alex is obviously over-the-moon, too. It’ll be the wedding of the century.”

“Maggie, don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself?” Dad asked. I didn’t stay for her response because it was all too predictable. Mom would just scoff at the question, wave Dad off and remind him to make an appearance at the breakfast table.

Gretchen was busy chopping vegetables for lunch. She smiled and nodded toward the plate at the end of the worktable. I hopped up on the stool behind a plate of three sunny-side up eggs and a stack of buttered wheat toast. I picked up the cup of coffee first.

“Just like old times, only coffee instead of chocolate milk.” I raised a questioning brow at her.

She smiled as she set down the knife. “Of course, there’s chocolate milk. I knew you were coming, after all. I just wasn’t sure you’d want it.”

I tapped the worktable. “Make it a double.”

She returned seconds later with a tall glass of chocolate milk. “How is Bryan?” she asked.

“I haven’t seen him this morning. He’s probably sleeping late.”

“Poor baby. I’ll send up some of his favorite biscuits and gravy this morning. Where’s your sweetheart?” she asked with a wink. She knew. I was sure Hazel let her in on the secret. Not that it mattered anymore. Mom invited the Carltons, regardless, and the three women couldn’t be pushier or more blatant about their scheme. Alexandria had put on quite the drama act, insisting she felt faint during the party, but she was miraculously better once we left the room—and Isla’s performance.

“I sent Isla a text this morning but no response,” I said. “I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t respond either.”

“Nonsense. You can’t leave that poor girl up in her room.” She refilled the glass with chocolate milk. “It’s a beautiful day, and there’s nothing but chaos here at the house. Why don’t you take a couple horses out?”

“Isla doesn’t ride.” I put down the glass. “But she does ride bicycles. Good idea, Gretch. I think we both could use some time away from the house.”

I finished breakfast and went upstairs to the guest wing. Alexandria was just leaving her room. She was wearing a sheer beach cover up, swimsuit and slip-on shoes. “I was hoping I’d run into you. I’m going to the pool for a swim and a little sunbathing, so I’m not so pasty white.” She stuck out her long leg. She was tanned from head-to-toe. “Join me. Please. It’ll be so boring otherwise.”

“I think I heard Rachel and Chloe mention sunbathing today. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of company.” I walked past her. She paused for a second and then walked with loud steps down the hall.

I reached Isla’s door. It took me a few seconds to work up the courage to knock. “Isla, it’s me. I was thinking a bike ride would be fun, and as I thought more about it, I realized it would be much more fun with you.” I could hear movement inside the room. “We could get away from the chaos, the guests … my mom.”

The door opened. Isla was wearing llama print pajamas. “I’ll go but I’m not promising fun. I just need the exercise, so it’s strictly that—exercise and fresh air and avoiding your mom, and if we happen to laugh about something—don’t read anything into it because it’s exercise and exercise is not meant to be fun. You know what they say, no gain—wait—” She crinkled her brow cutely. “Isn’t there something about pain in there.”

“No pain, no gain.”

“Right. That.” She dropped her gaze down. “And it seems I opened the door in my llama pajamas, so that’s a great start so far. I have to get dressed, and I need something to eat.” She winced. “Do you think the coast is clear in the breakfast room? I don’t want to run into any?—”

“Sharks?”

“That’s probably as good a word as any.”

“I could grab some breakfast goodies to go,” I suggested.

“Sounds good. Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll meet you out on the veranda.”

“Great. See you there.” I couldn’t believe how relieved I was that she was still talking to me.

“ I brought you a piece of Gretchen’s bacon and gruyere quiche.” I handed her the napkin-wrapped food and a cup of coffee.

“It smells like a buttery slice of heaven.” She opened the napkin. Isla had pulled on a gray cap that had a picture of a Highland cow on the front.

“Guess you went from llamas to cows.” I pointed up at the cap.

“I did go through a bit of a Highland cow obsession after Ava returned from a hike across Scotland. The first photo she sent was of her leaning against a fence, and a great, furry brute of a cow was standing next to her. I told her not to send any more photos if there weren’t cows in the pictures, so she obliged. Then she brought home this hat and a stuffed Highland cow toy. This quiche is astounding. Gretchen makes me feel as if I have so much more to learn before I can call myself a baker.”

“As I recall, your honey cakes had people standing under the hot sun and using up most of their coffee break.”

“I told you that was because it was free. You wouldn’t get it.”

Her words actually stung. “I can’t change that about myself,” I said. “I’m sorry. You’re right. But I do get it. I’m not a heartless, wax statue. I understand there is plight in the world. I could be raking in big money investing in stocks and companies that harm the earth and people’s health, but I never put money into those companies. Believe it or not, I feel there is always room for improvement in this world and in my life.”

“Excuse my rudeness. I’m being a poorness snob. And yes, I just made that phrase up, but I think it fits. I shouldn’t have said you wouldn’t get it. That’s me being judgy. How is your brother, by the way?”

“Alive. Thanks to you,” I added.

Her cheeks darkened. “I just did what anyone else would have done.”

“There were dozens of other people standing very close to my brother, but you alone jumped into action.” I couldn’t stop myself. I reached up and lightly touched the bruise on her face. “I’m sorry about this. Did either of my parents thank you for what you did?”

Isla shrugged. “It’s implied, I’m sure.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. And I apologize for their utter lack of manners, humbleness, thankfulness and all the other emotions required for humanness. Just when I think I couldn’t be more disappointed in them, they manage to prove me wrong.”

Isla finished the quiche and patted her stomach. “I’ll stop by the kitchen later to let Gretchen know, yet again, that she is a genius.”

“If you’re finished, then follow me to the storage shed for the bikes.”

Music was thrumming through the speakers in the pool area, and feminine voices could be heard between the beats.

“Your sister invited me to hang out by the pool,” Isla said as we continued toward the shed. “I told her I didn’t bring a suit. It wasn’t a lie, but this morning when I spoke to her, all I could think about was leaving.”

I turned to look at her. “I’m sorry.”

“All right, sir. Stop apologizing. Most of the crummy stuff that’s happened has nothing to do with you.” She stopped. “Except last night. You left mid-song.”

“I’m sor—” I raked my fingers through my hair. “I am starting to sound like a pathetic sap, aren’t I? I loved your song. It was—” I shook my head. I was having a hard time sorting out my feelings about it. Watching her on stage, all I could think was that she really was an angel. My feelings and reaction to her performance were strong, but I kept them to myself. “Alex insisted she was feeling faint, and she asked me to walk her outside for some fresh air.”

Isla’s big blue eyes blinked up at me. She seemed to be assessing whether or not it was true. “Then I guess you had no choice,” she said dryly. She walked a few steps and then stopped again. “It’s all right, you know. She’s an incredible woman, and even the bartender told me that you two make a fantastic couple.”

“Well, I guess if the bartender thinks so,” I said curtly. “Let’s end this topic.” I opened the shed door. “Our chariots await. Your choice of blue or red. My mom usually uses red.”

“Then I’ll take blue.” Isla entered the shed and laughed. “Did I just step into a sporting goods store?”

“It’s embarrassing, but the worst part is most of the equipment has never left this shed. My mom gets invited on a ski trip to the Alps, and she buys seven pairs of skis to see which ones look best with her outfits.” I pulled out the bikes, checked the tires and adjusted the seat for Isla.

Minutes later, we were off on one of the many paths that circled the property. Isla raced ahead, yelling “sucka” as she zoomed past. I hurried to catch up to her. We hit a downhill slope, and she instantly took her feet off the pedals, stuck out her legs and rolled down the hill, laughing the whole way. She shot off the second we reached the bottom. We rode like that, chasing and coasting and pedaling for a good twenty minutes, not bothering with conversation, which was good. Conversations always seemed to tangle things up more for us, always seemed to end in me apologizing, and never seemed to head in the direction either of us wanted. It felt good just to ride, to forget about the whole crummy weekend.

We reached the sprawling 200-year-old oak that had branches made for climbing. Its long skeletal arms had grown even longer and more twisted than I remembered. It looked like it belonged in the middle of an enchanted forest. Isla stopped the bike suddenly and put her feet down.

“Oh my gosh, this tree.” She pulled out her phone and took a picture before getting off the bike to get a closer look. She walked with purpose toward it, reached for a low branch and hoisted herself up onto it. She turned around, sat down and let her legs dangle. “This tree,” she said again.

“Best tree on the property.” I joined her on the same long limb. “The story is that when my granddad was having the grounds designed, the landscape architect had slated this one to be cut down, and my grandmother threw such a fit, the architect all but resigned out of shame.”

Isla looked over at me. She giggled when the movement caused the branch to vibrate. We both gripped the rough bark to keep from rolling backward off the limb. “I’m a big fan of Hazel’s.”

“Yeah, me too.” I watched my big feet hanging in the air beneath me. “I used to hide in this tree when I was feeling down.”

Isla looked over at me. “What could Lucas Greyson ever have to feel down about?” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “I did it again. Me and my poorness snobbery. Excuse my ignorance.”

“It’s easy to think that of someone who has literally everything they could ever want. Only not everything good comes with a price tag. I wasn’t a proper fit for expensive boarding schools. Didn’t care for the uniforms, the rules, the arrogant staff, the even more arrogant student body. After a few bouts of trouble, I ended up in a public school. My best friend there was a kid named Derek. We still talk occasionally. Sometimes I’d go to his house after school. His mom would make sloppy joes or tacos, and she’d stop every few minutes to look over our shoulders to make sure we were doing our math right. Then she’d drop a plate of hot, gooey cut-and-bake cookies in front of us, and we’d shovel in cookies and she’d laugh at the bubbles we blew in our glasses of milk. I loved everything about it. I’d go home afterward, and there was a good chance I wouldn’t see my parents at all for the rest of the night. I envied Derek’s life. So yes, I sometimes felt down, and this tree was one of my sit and think places. I’ve climbed all the way to the top branch.”

She gripped my arm as she looked straight up into the gnarled branches. The foliage had grown thinner, like an old man’s hair, through the years, but there was still enough life in it to attract birds and squirrels. “That’s impressive. Shall we give it a go?”

“What? Now?”

Isla braced her hand on my shoulder as she got to her feet. The branch shook even more, and she laughed again as a few leaves rained down on us from above. She grabbed the next branch and pulled herself up.

“Isla, you’re not seriously going to climb to the top.”

She was already pulling herself up to the next level. More leaves fell off the outstretched branches. She put her foot in a crevice in the trunk and grabbed the next branch to lift herself higher, but her foot stayed in the crevice, anchoring her in place.

“Uh-oh,” she said. “I’m stuck.”

I pulled myself up to the branch next to where her foot was jammed in the crevice.

“I don’t want to freak you out, but I’m losing my grip on this branch,” she said next.

“No, don’t do that. I’ll get you free.” My heart was racing as I reached her wedged foot. “Hold on. I might have to take off the shoe. It’s jammed in there tight.” I took hold of her ankle and worked to shimmy her foot out of the shoe.

“I’m losing my grip, Luke.” Her voice was half panic, half laughter.

“Wait, hold on.” I kept wriggling her ankle. It finally came free from the shoe.

“Oh boy, this might end badly,” she called as she lost her grip. I dropped her shoe. I was still braced firmly against the trunk as she dropped from the higher branch and landed solidly in my arms. The branch my feet were on trembled from the impact, but I managed to stay upright, all while holding her in my arms.

She glanced down at the ground and then at me. “Well done, Mr. Greyson. I think we’re even on the lifesaving tricks for the weekend.”

We stayed there for a good long minute, me balancing on the thick branch and her nestled in my arms. She felt warm and right there, as if she belonged in my arms. Our gazes stuck like magnets. We were close enough that memories of the kiss returned. She reached up, and I held my breath waiting for her to touch me. She pulled a leaf free from my hair. I released the disappointed breath.

“I guess I should lower my feet down,” she said. “Although, if I’m being perfectly honest—something I’m known for,” she added with a wink, “I’m rather enjoying this whole scenario.”

“I am too, but maybe this whole thing would be better if my feet were standing on solid ground.” I moved my feet for better control, and she lowered her feet to the branch. I climbed down first and then turned around to help her finish the drop to the ground. My hands circled her small waist, and she once again braced her hands on my shoulders as I lowered her to the ground. We stared at each other for a few seconds. I wondered if she could hear my heartbeat, because I sure could.

“Thank you. I suppose I’ve outgrown my tree climbing days.” She immediately grabbed my arm as she balanced on her foot that still had a shoe. She hopped along next to me and sat down on the grass surrounding the tree. I picked up the shoe I’d dropped through the branches. She reached up for it, but I held it away from her.

“What kind of prince would I be if I let the young woman put on her own shoe?” I knelt down. She wriggled her toes when I held her ankle. Her big blue eyes peered up at me as I pushed her foot into the shoe.

“Thank goodness,” she said. “It would be just my luck to have the glass slipper not fit.”

I laughed and pushed to my feet. I offered her my hand. She placed her palm on mine and my fingers, quickly, instinctively, curled around her slim hand. I helped her to her feet, and, just like in the tree, we stood for a long, quiet moment gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Why does it always feel so right when I’m with you?” The words just came out. She seemed surprised by them, but I wasn’t. I’d known there was something special about Isla the second I spotted her down at the coffee cart.

Her cheeks turned pink as she turned away from me. She walked back to the bikes. “Ditto,” she said quietly.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“What you said just now.” Her cheeks were still pink. “Ditto.”