Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

LEIGH

The wind nips through the tiny holes in my sweater, and I instantly regret my decisions as I stumble across the deck to the railing.

But I can’t go back in there.

My knuckles turn white as I grip the weathered wood, willing it to ground me in reality. I suck in another breath to force air into my lungs.

This is okay.

I’m okay.

I’m not losing him.

He’s just spending time with Luca.

I wanted this.

For Zach.

He needs this.

It’s just dinner.

But it’s more than that.

This isn’t a fucking play date.

This is real.

They are connecting. Making memories. They are forming a bond that rivals my own.

And that scares the living shit out of me.

Because what if Luca’s not his father?

What happens when he leaves?

When his family doesn’t want Zach because he’s my son too. The thief of Shady Grove.

I suck in another ragged breath—and exhale.

Over and over between choked sobs.

My lungs burn, but no matter how hard I try, I don’t feel like I’m getting enough air.

“Leigh.”

The disembodied voice is faint over the pounding of my heart in my ears.

“Leighton.”

Luca?

I want to turn around, but I can’t.

I’m frozen.

Literally and figuratively.

Running out in my sweater and leggings, sans coat and gloves, was a terrible idea.

I just needed to get out of there.

I needed to breathe.

Oh, the irony that now I can’t force a simple breath into my lungs.

“Fuck, you’re already shivering.”

Am I?

I’m fairly certain that’s just my body freaking out right alongside my heart, which is doing double-time against my ribcage.

Am I having a heart attack?

Shit.

Is this me dying?

At least Zach will have Luca.

Maybe this was meant to happen?

No.

I can’t die.

Not like this.

“You’re not dying.”

Did I say that out loud?

“Are you sure?” My voice is embarrassingly small.

Luca drapes my coat over my shoulders and presses his chest to my back, wrapping his coat around us both. Gently, he covers my hands with his and, one finger at a time, pries them from the railing. Once he’s got them all detached, he spins me in his arms and pulls them to his lips, warming them with his breath.

“I promise.”

And I think I believe him.

Maybe.

Then again, maybe he’s in on it, and it’s a way to get Zach all to himself.

God, my brain is a fucked-up place.

I tip my head back, still struggling to catch my breath.

My chest hurts. My brain hurts. My heart hurts.

Luca mutters a string of curses as he continues to blow hot air on my frigid fingers.

I want to tell him they aren’t that cold and rip them from his grasp. He doesn’t get to be nice to me. Not right now. Not when I don’t know why my body is drawn to him when it absolutely shouldn’t be. Not when I’m going to die, and he’s going to leave and fuck everything up after being the perfect almost dad to Zach.

“Leigh, tell me what you see,” he murmurs against my hands.

“What?” I gasp.

“Five things you see. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Five things,” he growls, and my body goes still.

Seeing in his eyes that he’s not going to let me have this moment without him fucking it up, I concede a half-hearted, “Fine.”

Fucking moody, selfish, billionaire, asshole.

My eyes dart left, then right, searching for anything tangible before a stray thought sneaks in.

Is there a wrong answer here?

Can it be anything?

Shit. I don’t know.

“Out of your head, Leigh. The first thing you see.”

A wild hair, plastered to his forehead beneath his beanie, catches my eye.

My throat feels thick. Impossible to swallow, but I manage to squeak, “Hair.”

“Good. That’s one.” He takes both my hands in one of his large palms and the other moves beneath my coat to the small of my back, keeping me anchored close to him.

My gaze trails down past his perfectly sculpted brows. “Eyes.”

His breath warms my hands. “That’s two.”

He traces tiny, even-pressured circles with his fingers against my shirt. “What color are they?”

“Blue.”

And what a beautiful shade of blue they are. Like an iceberg that flipped over, seeing the sun for the first time. They sparkle.

“Good. What else do you see?”

My gaze slips lower. “Lips.”

His tongue darts out and wets the soft pink pillows—masculine yet still far too pretty for a man. “That’s three. Something else.”

Lower, I latch on to the sliver of silver skin at the base of his throat.“Scar.”

His brow furrows. “Huh?”

“Right here.” I tug a hand free and trace the puckered skin.

Luca shivers and swallows hard before shifting slightly back. “Uh, good.” His voice wobbles. “Two more things.”

I want to ask how he got it, but that’s too much for my brain to handle. Instead, I keep to his directions, following the hollow of his neck back up to his jaw—which, unlike this morning, is now shadowed with hair.

“Scruff.”

“Do you like it?” he whispers.

I dip my head toward him and murmur. “It suits you.”

It makes him look like a rugged book boyfriend. The kind that use their scruff to tickle your thighs. Especially up here in the mountains. All he needs is a flannel instead of his bougie designer jacket.

Mouth moving faster than my mind, I blurt out, “It makes you look less like an uptight prick.”

Shit. Why did I say that?

Heat fills my cheeks, and I press my forehead to my lifted forearms as if that will make me shrink and disappear.

“Noted.” Luca’s chest rumbles with a chuckle and his hand tightens on my back, pulling me closer to him. “One more thing, Little Thief.”

“Hands.” I wiggle mine in front of him. “Thank you for warming them.”

“You’re welcome.” He gives them a gentle squeeze and releases them. “Now I want you to let me see those beautiful blue eyes of yours and take four deep breaths with me.”

Pulling from whatever manic bravery I have left, I tip my head back. His eyes connect with mine, and I’m surprised there isn’t an ounce of pity, only encouragement.

“In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

I accept his instructions, and latching on to his life-giving gaze, he becomes the roots that ground me.

With each slow breath, my chest loosens. The weight of my worries lifts. The panic morphs into safety. Until finally I’m able to fill my lungs completely.

“Good,” Luca coos, a steadfast reassurance.

Feeling a little more settled and a lot less like I’m going to pass out, I step back and take control of my hands. I slip them through the sleeves of my coat, wrapping myself in a hug. It’s nowhere near as soothing as Luca’s embrace, but it gives me the space to recalibrate and remember where I am.

Luca’s eyes never leave me. He watches me like a hawk.He waits with infinite patience until I give him an appreciative nod.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

A wince of dread flickers over my face. “If I say no, will you leave it alone?”

“All signs point to not a chance in hell,” he says with the barest hint of a smirk.

I drop my shoulders in defeat, my gaze falling to the floor, and I wish it would open up and swallow me whole. This isn’t how this trip was supposed to go.

None of it.

Not Luca and I fighting.

Not his friends welcoming me.

Not Zach having the time of his life with this new family.

I suck in a breath and hold it, staving off the panic that is all too willing to slither its way back in.

“Hey.” He steps toward me and brings a finger to my chin, lifting it so I have no choice but to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, but talking about what set it off can help.”

My brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

“The panic attack.”

“Is that what that was?” I consider my spiral and all the times Indie and I have helped Willow through her panic attacks. She’s never said it felt like a heart attack. More like overwhelming racing thoughts. Which absolutely checks out, but the rest?I’ve never experienced that before.

“Was it your first one?” His kindness shines through once again, and as much as I like it, I’m not sure what to do with it, or how long it will last before the pendulum swings the other way.

Why did it have to be him who followed me out here? Why couldn’t it have been Bash or Holt? Hell, I’d even take Enzo at this point.

So I do what I do best. Protect my heart. Deflect. Distract.

“That was terrible.” I force a halfhearted chuckle. “Remind me never to do that again.”

“Then we should definitely talk about it.” Luca steps back, giving me the space I need and gestures toward the small seating area against the cabin sheltered away from the wind.

He watches as I hesitate and sighs. “Leigh. I’m not the bad guy.”

I snort. “I’m pretty sure you are the very definition of the bad guy in my book.”

He flinches like I’ve slapped him. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve more.”

“I do.” He nods, having the decency to look remorseful. “But please. This isn’t about you and me right now. It’s just about you. I’ll even sign one of your fancy NDAs that doesn’t allow me to speak of this moment ever again.”

I roll my eyes, but ultimately follow and slide up next to him on the small bench.

We sit in silence for a beat, nothing but the wind and rustle of the trees between us. I relax back against the cabin, my body feeling as though I just ran a damn marathon.

Luca is the first to break the silence. “Jack used to have panic attacks.”

“He did?” I perk up at this bit of information. Each of the guys holds Jack’s memory close to their chest, never wanting to give too much information without the others present. Luca sharing this with me shows a level of trust I wasn’t expecting.

Luca nods and leans back, his head resting against the cabin. “Yeah. He was adopted and from a young age had a rough relationship with his brother because their parents doted on him due to his first battle with his illness. The problem is, he also had a huge heart, which caused him to panic when everyone wasn’t getting along.”

Heart in my throat, I softly ask, “What did he have?”

“Cancer.”

“I’m sorry.”

Fuck, I hate those words. They change nothing. Jack is still gone. His friends still grieve him. His family is still brokenhearted. Which is only confirmed by Luca’s weak answer.

“Me too.”

The silence stretching between us could fill an ocean. It’s rough. Unbearable. And Luca brought it upon himself to help make me feel better.

Nope.

That’s a thought to examine later. Alone. When I can’t be distracted by the way his lower lip juts out and worries ever so slightly when he’s feeling vulnerable.

But maybe this olive branch is exactly what we need. Luca wanted a fresh start, and while I’m not sure I can forget the past, I need to know who it is my son may or may not be spending Christmas with for years to come. I need to know who Luca Donati is now.

“How did you all meet?”

An endearing smile splits his lips. “Freshman year of college, we were all suite mates in the freshman athletics dorms.”

“That must have been a fun suite.” If they were anything like Indie, Willow, and me at boarding school, it was probably also a lot of trouble.

“We hated each other. Well, all of us, except Jack, hated each other. There isn’t a world where that much testosterone should be put together.”

“But you all played team sports?”

“Golf is not a team sport.”

A small giggle escapes me. “Okay, most of you.”

“Right, but we all played different sports. Which led to arguments about which was better.”

“Fucking men.” I roll my eyes, but mostly I’m impressed. It’s all so normal. Wholesome even. And between Bash’s stories this morning and this, I’m beginning to see a different side to Luca. One that isn’t pretentious or selfish.

“You aren’t wrong.”

“So what happened?” I ask, invested in their story. “What brought you all together?”

“Believe it or not, our first Christmas.”

“Really?” I tease, not believing it for a second. “That sounds like something out of a Hallmark movie.”

“Those were always Jack’s favorite. I can’t count the number of times I came home and caught him crying on the couch.” He chuckles and blinks away his own glassy tears threatening to fall. “That first Christmas Enzo and I weren’t going home because of…” He hesitates for a beat but keeps going. “Well, that’s a story for another time—but Bash and Holt were in season, so they were around, and Jack stayed behind because he insisted that’s what friends did.”

“He sounds like a smart guy.” I turn up the corners of my mouth to hide the wave of emotion that hits me. I’ll never get to meet this man who managed to get this ragtag group of guys on the same page.

“The smartest,” Luca agrees. “Jack waited until we were all out of the suite, and when we came back, it looked like Christmas had thrown up on every available surface. He claimed it was because Christmas was his favorite holiday, but I think he knew it was exactly what we needed. Enzo and I were in the thick of family drama, Bash was homesick, and Holt had just gone through a bad breakup.”

I file away the tiny bit of information about his family with a mental note to ask about it later. “And what happened?”

“We all got super drunk on hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps and fell asleep on the couches. From that moment on, we were inseparable.”

“So basically all it took to get through to you guys was a good old-fashioned sleepover?”

Luca tips his head back and laughs. Like really laughs. It’s deep and rich. He clutches his stomach, and I’m almost certain there are tears in his eyes.

And I’m lost in the sight of him. He might be an asshole one moment and sweet the next, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so carefree.

It’s beautiful.

Devastatingly so.

I look away as he catches his breath, needing a moment of my own.

“When did you guys find out he was sick?” I whisper, and the way he drops his chin to his chest and sighs, I almost kick myself for asking.

But I need to know.

I need to understand. After everything Holt and Bash shared, I’m convinced so much of who Luca is now is wrapped in this story—this moment of his life.

“Senior year.” Luca pauses and scrubs his hand down his face. “He had been losing weight and went to the doctors only to find out the cancer had returned. It was so far along that there wasn’t anything they could do. He was gone in a matter of weeks.”

“Oh my God,” I breathe and, without thinking, reach over and take his hand in mine. Giving it a gentle squeeze, I channel every healing vibe I have left in my body. “I am so sorry, Luca.”

He returns my squeeze, and a half smile tips his lips. “Me too. But I’m so glad I got the chance to have him in my life. Without him, I wouldn’t be here. With the guys. Or with you.”

My head tilts in question. “With me?”

He nods. “I was only at the fundraiser the night we conceived Zach because that’s the hospice company that took care of Jack.”

“Oh.” I use my free hand to tug my coat tighter against the cold, ignoring how my stomach flutters at the way he’s making it sound like we were destined to be there that night. “I always wondered why you were there. It didn’t seem like your kind of event.”

Indie would say it’s fate.

Willow, serendipitous luck.

Me? I’m firmly in the camp of everything happens for a reason, but fate and destiny are bullshit.

Luca continues. “We rotate who goes each year. Most of the time, though, it’s Enzo, Bash, or me, since Holt still has games to attend.”

“But aren’t Bash and Holt’s teams in season right now?”

“Yeah, but Christmas is sacred.” The whimsy in his voice is downright adorable. The way these grown ass men covet this holiday has me almost believing in its magic again.

Almost.

“What about when you were playing?” It’s the only aspect of Bucket List Christmas I didn’t get the chance to ask Bash and Holt about.

“We all had it written into our contracts that we’d be missing those games.”

“Awww,” I sing-song, clutching his hand to my chest. “That is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing I’ve ever heard.”

“We try,” he says, taking a mock bow.

I blink up at him. “You’re not what I expected.”

“I tried to tell you that.”

He did. Over and over. During spring training. In countless messages. On the phone. And since we’ve been here.

And yet I’m still surprised every time he proves me wrong.

But maybe it’s time I meet him halfway.

I inhale a deep, steadying breath. Exhaling slowly, I admit,“I got scared inside.”

Luca straightens—his gaze going hard. “Why? Did one of the guys say something?”

“No, they’re great,” I reassure him, trying to find the right words.“It was you and Zach. I—It’s always just been the two of us. Me and him against the world. Seeing you guys together, it—If you’re his father, this is the start of something new for him that doesn’t include me. And as his mom, that’s terrifying.”

He searches my face and confusion pleats his brows. “I’m not here to exclude you or replace you, Leigh.”

“Logically I know that but tell that to my mom brain.”

He lifts a brow. “Mom brain?”

“Listen,” I admonish. “It's a real thing. Just wait until you’re so in love with that little boy that you will literally rip your own heart from your chest if it means saving him.”

Luca drops my hand and throws his up in mock surrender. “I believe you.”

I once again search his face for any malice and raise a brow when I still find none. Even when he’s been angry, it’s always been because of hurt or defeat, but never maliciousness.

“I’m struggling with reconciling the man in front of me from the man who stood in front of our town and lied.”

“I know. And I’m?—”

“Please, let me finish.”

He snaps his mouth shut and nods, threading his fingers through mine once more, giving a gentle squeeze.

I don’t pull away even though I should. A part of me likes the weight of his presence, ensuring me that he’s there and he’s listening.

As much as I needed his story, he needs to hear mine.

“You told the entire town I was a thief. They ostracized me, and that broke me. Then when they asked you again, you doubled down and said our house should be searched to make sure I didn’t steal from anyone else. And because you’re a Donati, they listened. Not that they found anything, but the damage had been done. Every summer until I left for college, I was alone with only my mom and dad to talk to because no one wanted to associate with the town thief. My family lost clients and their business struggled to stay afloat until my parents died.”

His hand tightens around mine, but he doesn’t utter a word, allowing me the space to continue.

“I thought that was the worst of it until my grandparents tried to earn their way back into the good graces of the Shady Grove elite by having your mother arrange a match for me. But really, it was so they could gain access to the trust fund my parents left to me. Only I can’t access it until I’m thirty or get married. Thankfully, I got pregnant, and your mother wouldn't dare sully anyone's name with a bastard child. So really, I guess I should be thanking you.”

“I—” Luca looks away, and his voice trembles. “I didn’t know.”

I let out a frustrated scoff. “How could you? You were off at college making friends, celebrating Christmas, and working your way to the big show.”

“Leigh, I?—”

“I know you’re sorry.” My words catch on a sob. “I know you didn’t know. But as I said before, those are just words, Luca. This is my life, not some game.”

“I know.” His voice trembles, and then becomes a little steadier. “I know. And I promise if it takes till my last breath, I’ll make it up to you.”

I shake my head, and even though I don’t want to cry in front of him again over this, a traitorous tear falls down my cheek. “It’s not about me anymore. I’m a big girl. It’s about that little boy in there. If he’s yours, don’t fail him.”

Luca reaches up and catches the tear with his thumb. “I won’t.” It’s a solemn promise. Full stop. Do not pass go. He means it.

And I want to believe him.

But Luca isn’t done.

He tightens his grip on my cheek and pierces my soul with his candor. “But what if I want it to be about you too? What if I don’t want to fail you either?”

My jaw drops.

Me?

He wants it to be about me?

What does that even mean?

I’m saved from asking or answering when Zach comes running up and wraps his arms around me, followed closely by Bash, Enzo and Holt walking out of the cabin.

“You guys ready for a toast with the shittiest beer on the planet?” Bash asks, holding up the five cans of Coors Light cradled in his arms.

Enzo scrunches his nose and grabs a can from the pile. “I still don’t understand how Jack loved this stuff.”

“Listen,” Holt reasons, grabbing a can for himself. “The bucket list said drink a beer in the Coors mountains.” He lifts the can, lining up the iconic blue ridges with their real-life counterparts. “So here we are.”

“Looks like duty calls,” I say to Luca, nodding to the pile.

I turn, discreetly wiping my face so none of the guys see just what a mess I am when Bash chimes in,“Oh no, one of these is for you, baby momma.”

“No, this is your thing.” I backpedal, picking up Zach and heading for the cabin. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Holt smirks and offers me a can. “Come on, Leigh. Jack would have wanted you to.”

“And now that you know how we all met, and how Bucket List Christmas came to be, you can’t say no,” Luca adds.

“I—”

“Just give in, Leigh,” Enzo pipes up. “They aren’t going to let you out of it.”

I sigh playfully. “Fine. Give me the damn beer.”

The guys all cheer, and secretly I’m happy to be toasting to the man who brought them together. What they have is something so few get to cherish, let alone witness. It makes me miss Indie and Willow even more. Our sisterhood of the traveling smut is the equivalent of their bucket list boys.

“Anyone care to make this interesting?” Bash wiggles his eyebrows with an impish smile.

Holt doesn’t miss a beat and pulls out a set of keys from his pocket. “Shotgun race?”

“Last one to finish has to wear the costume while we decorate the tree tonight.”

“Deal,” Holt says, and the two of them glance around to the group.

“Ugh. Fine.” Enzo pulls a pen from his jacket.

Key’s in hand, Luca chimes in, “You know I won’t turn down a challenge.”

They all swivel their heads to me.

Luca cocks a goading brow. “Leigh?”

I set Zach down and stand up, joining their circle. “Someone give me a key to use.”

The guys each let out a whoop or cheer, and Zach joins them as Luca works a key off his ring.

“Don’t lose that.”

“Why? What’s it the key to?”

“My heart,” he simpers.

I roll my eyes. “Does that line actually work?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Enzo confirms. “Thank goodness you’re too smart for that.”

“I always knew you were my favorite twin.”

“Watch it, Little Thief.” Luca points a glare in my direction, but it’s paired with a smile that tells me I’ll pay for it later.

Bring it on, sweetheart.

“On that note.” Holt lifts his beer to the center of the circle. “To Jack—the best of us. Gone too soon.”

I look around the group, committing to memory the solemn smiles each of the guys wears and the sorrow in their eyes. It’s a haunting kind of love and loss that’s beautiful in its own right. It’s a shared moment I will cherish forever. No matter how this plays out.

“To Jack.”