It Had to Be You
Page 32
“Oh, Ali-gator.” Mimi hopped down from the counter and sat next to Ali, hugging her close. “It happens. Listen, we’ll go to the Victoria’s Secret outlet store. We’ll get you something pretty, and you can make it up to him—”
“No.” But that did squeeze a laugh out of her. “It’s not like that. I messed up by falling for him.”
“Well how’s that messing up?”
“Because he didn’t fall back.”
“Oh honey. What man wouldn’t fall for you? You’re strong and smart, and so pretty. Although you should smile more. You’ve got those nice white teeth—”
Ali pushed to her feet. “I’m going to go see if Harper needs any help outside decorating. You keep working on your surprise expression, okay?”
Two hours later, the party was in full swing. Ali had been sent to the store—twice—and was back in the tiny, cramped, hot kitchen, her mom’s cake in one hand, a knife in the other. She’d come inside to put the cake away, but now she was thinking she needed a third piece.
Problem was, a third piece would put her at about a million calories for the day, so she cut off a bite-sized portion. She ate right off the knife, because everyone knew that the calories eaten right off the knife didn’t count. She was leaning over the cake stuffing her face, when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned, then nearly fell over in surprise at the man standing in the doorway.
“Luke?”
His shoulders nearly brushed the jamb on either side of him, making him look far too big for the place. He was wearing a T-shirt, faded Levi’s, and battered athletic shoes. The casual wear should have had him fitting right in, but he didn’t really. Maybe he had the hard-edge and see-all eyes it took to survive in this neighborhood, but his badassness came from being a cop, not from worrying about having a job and putting food on the table or whether it was safe to walk to his car.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, surreptitiously swiping her face, hoping she didn’t have chocolate all over it. “Why aren’t you gone?”
“I wanted to see you before I left.”
White Center wasn’t exactly en route to San Francisco. He’d gone pretty far out of his way to talk, but she needed to protect herself. And get over him. Getting over him would be supremely helpful. “I’m pretty busy here, Luke.”
He slid a glance at the cake in her hands. “Yeah, I can see that. Should I give you two a moment alone?”
“No. Yes.” She noted that she sounded peeved, which was good. It hid the hurt. And she was hurt. So damn hurt, with no one to blame but herself.
He came forward and took the knife out of her hands, setting it far out of her reach. Then he very gently took the cake as well.
“How did you find me?” she asked. “And why are you even here?”
Mimi stepped into the kitchen and said in a horrified voice, “Ali Anne Louise Winters, how is that a way to talk to your man?” She put a hand on Luke’s arm and smiled up at him. “You made really good time from Lucky Harbor, honey.”
“I did,” he said, and dipped down to kiss her on the cheek. “Happy birthday.”
Mimi fawned over that. “Oh my, aren’t you the charmer.” She smiled at Ali. “Isn’t he, Ali?”
“Yes,” Ali agreed tightly. “He’s quite the charmer. But he’s not my man, Mom. We’ve discussed this.”
Mimi sighed, and Ali braced herself for the lecture. A man is everything, Ali. Don’t disappointment him, ever. Be what he needs you to be…
But Mimi said none of that. She simply stepped around Luke, cupped her daughter’s face, and smiled gently. “Just talk to him, baby.”
“Mom—”
“I know you’ve been let down. And I also know that’s more my fault than any man’s.”
Ali sighed and brought her hands up to her mom’s wrists. “Oh, Mom. That’s not true.”
Mimi smiled sadly. “You always were the sweet one. My miracle,” she said to Luke. “So willing to see only the best in me.” She turned back to Ali. “But honey, maybe you could try to see the best in him too.” Then she kissed both of Ali’s cheeks, patted them gently, and left the two of them alone.
Chapter 24
Luke didn’t touch Ali. God knew he wanted to. She was standing there, arms wrapped around herself, the don’t-touch vibes coming off of her like lightning bolts.
He’d caused that. Instead of keeping his mouth shut and saying goodbye to her, he’d ruined what they’d shared during their short time together. Worse, he’d hurt her. “I called you,” he said quietly. She hadn’t picked up. He’d called her again, and Mimi had answered, saying that Ali had gone to the store and left her phone. Mimi had invited him to her party.
Luke had been on his way regardless, but the invite had been nice.
“My mom’s dying of curiosity about you,” Ali said.
“She’s protective of you.”
That brought her gaze to his. In all this time, she’d been an open book. But she’d closed herself off now, shuttering everything from him.
His own doing. “She wanted me to know you were upset,” he said.
Ali made a sound and closed her eyes, and he stepped closer. “I told her it was my fault,” he said, “and that I wanted to come see you.”
“Well, you’re seeing me now.”
“Ah…” he said helplessly, “we need to talk.”
“Not here.” And with that, she walked outside.
He drew a deep breath and followed.
They didn’t go around to the back, where the party was ramping up, if the raucous laughter and loud music meant anything. Instead, she started walking down the street.
Luke went with her. “Ali—”
“Not here either.”
He decided to shut it and let her lead.
But she stopped so short at the sight of the white Lucky Harbor Dial-A-Ride van, he nearly plowed her over.
She swiveled her head and looked at him in disbelief.
He shrugged.
“You drove the Dial-A-Ride here?”
“Someone took the key bowl,” he said, “with my keys in it.”
She stared up at him. “Oh my God. That was me. I took the bowl.” She smacked herself on the forehead. “I’ve got to stop doing that.”
He smiled, and they walked in silence a few blocks.
Weeds poked through the cracks in the beat-up asphalt in front of the houses that had seen better days decades ago. Some had bars in the windows, and others had flowers in pots on their porches.
“We lived on that corner once,” Ali said, pointing to a place on the right, where there was a skeleton of a Chevy up on blocks. “We also lived across the street.”
“Where does that loan shark as**ole live?” he asked. “The one who threatened to sell you?”
She took a look at his face. “You want to beat the shit out of some guy who scared me fifteen years ago?”
“Badly,” he said.
She shook her head again, but there was the very smallest of smiles on her face.
“Ali.”
“I still don’t want to talk.”
Fine. He’d give her a few more minutes, but that was it because then he was going to talk.
And she would listen.
Hopefully. Because, actually, he hadn’t had a whole lot of luck in getting Ali to do anything that she didn’t want to do.
They walked another few streets, and then she pointed to a house just like all the others, this one pale yellow and nearly falling off its axis. “That one,” she said. “That’s where we lived with The Pincher.”
His chest squeezed hard, like maybe his heart was swelling and bumping up against his ribs. “I’d like a moment with him too,” he said grimly.
A minute later, they came to a deserted elementary school. Ali slipped in between a small gap in the linked fence, like she’d done it a hundred times.
Luke eyed the gap. Not nearly wide enough for his shoulders, even if he squeezed in sideways. With a sigh, he climbed the fence.
Ali had claimed a swing and was watching him. There was something new in her face now. She was more than just closed off to him. She was closed off period, disassociated from their surroundings. He’d seen this all too often on the job, so he knew exactly what it meant. It meant that being here had brought her memories that were hard—if not impossible—for her to deal with. “Talk to me, Ali.”
“Well…” Her gaze tipped upward to the corner of the structure supporting her swing. “There’s that web right there, and I’m wondering where the owner of it is.”
“Long gone,” Luke promised.
“And then there’s the fossilized dog poo just behind you. Don’t step in it.”
“Ali.”
“I love getting to see my mom,” she said quietly. “And my sister.” She shook her head and kicked off gently to swing. “I just hate being here.”
He moved behind her and gave her a big push.
She sighed as she flew through the air, leaning back into the motion of the swing as if to savor the motion and the sun on her face.
“You went to school here,” he said, staying behind her, continuing to push her.
“I went to school here, yes. I also used to run away here. And hid away here too, when it was necessary.”
He’d stayed in back of her so that she wouldn’t have to look at him when she talked, sensing that she needed that. But now he was glad that she couldn’t see his face, because although he was good at hiding his feelings, he couldn’t seem to do it with her.
“I left here,” she said. “I wanted to go somewhere new and be smart and independent. I wanted people to like me. I wanted a new life. I wanted to be happy.”
He stopped her motion, and from behind her, pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “You are all of those things,” he said, “and more. Smart and sweet and caring.” He twisted the swing so that she faced him. Squatting before her, he took the steel chains in his hands, caging her in between his arms. “I’m going to talk now,” he said.
She opened her mouth, but he leaned in and kissed her to shut her up. “What you heard me say to Edward,” he said, moving back just enough to speak, “I shouldn’t have said.”
“I shouldn’t have stood there as long as I did,” she said. “When I heard you two talking, I should’ve gone back inside.”
“Lots of should haves. But you overheard me talking out my ass, Ali. You’re not a job to me. Not even close.”
She leveled him with those big, hazel eyes. “Then why did you say it? Twice?”
He blew out a breath and tried to put it into words. “I guess I was just coming to grips with what’s going on between us and I wasn’t ready to discuss it.” He let out a low, pained laugh. “Hell, Ali, I’m not good at talking about this stuff, even when I am ready.”
“And you’re not,” she said, eyes on his. “Ready?”
It was a question, not a statement. And a fair one. “I didn’t think so,” he admitted. “And the thought of being yet another man who’s disappointed you or let you down—”
She pulled back a little more at that. “I’m not your responsibility, Luke. I won’t be your responsibility.”
“I know that. But I care about you.”
She nodded, and yet her face was still closed off. Luke knew she felt off balance. Their location wasn’t helping much, but that wasn’t the number-one problem. The number-one problem was him. Him and the stupid, idiotic words that he’d thrown out there to get his grandpa off his back. “You’re not just someone who needed help,” he said to her, leaning in so that her knees touched his chest. “I don’t think of you like that.”
She was looking at him but through him, and worse, she was tensed for flight. He was already losing her. He could feel it. He was losing her before he’d even realized the miracle that he’d had.
Because like Mimi had said—she was a miracle.
His miracle.
She’d brought him back to life. He wasn’t sure how, or what he was going to do about it, but he knew that he had to figure his shit out fast before it was too late.
“I don’t need help,” she said.
“I know. I’m the one who needs it.”
This brought him a very small smile. It would seem she agreed that yes, he needed help. “I love your determination,” he said. “You’re tough and resilient, Ali. And amazing.” And he wanted her. More than he’d wanted anyone before. That alone was enough to terrify him, but he was willing to put the terror aside to make this right between them.
“You’ve got to go,” she said. “It’s late. And your job’s on the line. You’re going to have to drive all night to make it for your review.”
He didn’t move, and she closed her eyes. “Please don’t look at me like that,” she whispered.
“Like what?”
“Like you love me.”
His heart stopped. Just stopped. “I think I do,” he said.
He instantly knew his mistake. It was one of those big, life-altering bonehead moments that he couldn’t take back.
“You think you do,” Ali repeated softly. She sucked in some air, then shook her head with a low laugh. “You think…No. No, Luke, I’m here to tell you that you don’t. Because if you did love me, we’d have discussed like rational adults what would happen after you go back to San Francisco. Instead, we’re here, with you about to toss your cookies because you think it might be true that you feel something for me. God, the horror.”
“No.” But that did squeeze a laugh out of her. “It’s not like that. I messed up by falling for him.”
“Well how’s that messing up?”
“Because he didn’t fall back.”
“Oh honey. What man wouldn’t fall for you? You’re strong and smart, and so pretty. Although you should smile more. You’ve got those nice white teeth—”
Ali pushed to her feet. “I’m going to go see if Harper needs any help outside decorating. You keep working on your surprise expression, okay?”
Two hours later, the party was in full swing. Ali had been sent to the store—twice—and was back in the tiny, cramped, hot kitchen, her mom’s cake in one hand, a knife in the other. She’d come inside to put the cake away, but now she was thinking she needed a third piece.
Problem was, a third piece would put her at about a million calories for the day, so she cut off a bite-sized portion. She ate right off the knife, because everyone knew that the calories eaten right off the knife didn’t count. She was leaning over the cake stuffing her face, when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned, then nearly fell over in surprise at the man standing in the doorway.
“Luke?”
His shoulders nearly brushed the jamb on either side of him, making him look far too big for the place. He was wearing a T-shirt, faded Levi’s, and battered athletic shoes. The casual wear should have had him fitting right in, but he didn’t really. Maybe he had the hard-edge and see-all eyes it took to survive in this neighborhood, but his badassness came from being a cop, not from worrying about having a job and putting food on the table or whether it was safe to walk to his car.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, surreptitiously swiping her face, hoping she didn’t have chocolate all over it. “Why aren’t you gone?”
“I wanted to see you before I left.”
White Center wasn’t exactly en route to San Francisco. He’d gone pretty far out of his way to talk, but she needed to protect herself. And get over him. Getting over him would be supremely helpful. “I’m pretty busy here, Luke.”
He slid a glance at the cake in her hands. “Yeah, I can see that. Should I give you two a moment alone?”
“No. Yes.” She noted that she sounded peeved, which was good. It hid the hurt. And she was hurt. So damn hurt, with no one to blame but herself.
He came forward and took the knife out of her hands, setting it far out of her reach. Then he very gently took the cake as well.
“How did you find me?” she asked. “And why are you even here?”
Mimi stepped into the kitchen and said in a horrified voice, “Ali Anne Louise Winters, how is that a way to talk to your man?” She put a hand on Luke’s arm and smiled up at him. “You made really good time from Lucky Harbor, honey.”
“I did,” he said, and dipped down to kiss her on the cheek. “Happy birthday.”
Mimi fawned over that. “Oh my, aren’t you the charmer.” She smiled at Ali. “Isn’t he, Ali?”
“Yes,” Ali agreed tightly. “He’s quite the charmer. But he’s not my man, Mom. We’ve discussed this.”
Mimi sighed, and Ali braced herself for the lecture. A man is everything, Ali. Don’t disappointment him, ever. Be what he needs you to be…
But Mimi said none of that. She simply stepped around Luke, cupped her daughter’s face, and smiled gently. “Just talk to him, baby.”
“Mom—”
“I know you’ve been let down. And I also know that’s more my fault than any man’s.”
Ali sighed and brought her hands up to her mom’s wrists. “Oh, Mom. That’s not true.”
Mimi smiled sadly. “You always were the sweet one. My miracle,” she said to Luke. “So willing to see only the best in me.” She turned back to Ali. “But honey, maybe you could try to see the best in him too.” Then she kissed both of Ali’s cheeks, patted them gently, and left the two of them alone.
Chapter 24
Luke didn’t touch Ali. God knew he wanted to. She was standing there, arms wrapped around herself, the don’t-touch vibes coming off of her like lightning bolts.
He’d caused that. Instead of keeping his mouth shut and saying goodbye to her, he’d ruined what they’d shared during their short time together. Worse, he’d hurt her. “I called you,” he said quietly. She hadn’t picked up. He’d called her again, and Mimi had answered, saying that Ali had gone to the store and left her phone. Mimi had invited him to her party.
Luke had been on his way regardless, but the invite had been nice.
“My mom’s dying of curiosity about you,” Ali said.
“She’s protective of you.”
That brought her gaze to his. In all this time, she’d been an open book. But she’d closed herself off now, shuttering everything from him.
His own doing. “She wanted me to know you were upset,” he said.
Ali made a sound and closed her eyes, and he stepped closer. “I told her it was my fault,” he said, “and that I wanted to come see you.”
“Well, you’re seeing me now.”
“Ah…” he said helplessly, “we need to talk.”
“Not here.” And with that, she walked outside.
He drew a deep breath and followed.
They didn’t go around to the back, where the party was ramping up, if the raucous laughter and loud music meant anything. Instead, she started walking down the street.
Luke went with her. “Ali—”
“Not here either.”
He decided to shut it and let her lead.
But she stopped so short at the sight of the white Lucky Harbor Dial-A-Ride van, he nearly plowed her over.
She swiveled her head and looked at him in disbelief.
He shrugged.
“You drove the Dial-A-Ride here?”
“Someone took the key bowl,” he said, “with my keys in it.”
She stared up at him. “Oh my God. That was me. I took the bowl.” She smacked herself on the forehead. “I’ve got to stop doing that.”
He smiled, and they walked in silence a few blocks.
Weeds poked through the cracks in the beat-up asphalt in front of the houses that had seen better days decades ago. Some had bars in the windows, and others had flowers in pots on their porches.
“We lived on that corner once,” Ali said, pointing to a place on the right, where there was a skeleton of a Chevy up on blocks. “We also lived across the street.”
“Where does that loan shark as**ole live?” he asked. “The one who threatened to sell you?”
She took a look at his face. “You want to beat the shit out of some guy who scared me fifteen years ago?”
“Badly,” he said.
She shook her head again, but there was the very smallest of smiles on her face.
“Ali.”
“I still don’t want to talk.”
Fine. He’d give her a few more minutes, but that was it because then he was going to talk.
And she would listen.
Hopefully. Because, actually, he hadn’t had a whole lot of luck in getting Ali to do anything that she didn’t want to do.
They walked another few streets, and then she pointed to a house just like all the others, this one pale yellow and nearly falling off its axis. “That one,” she said. “That’s where we lived with The Pincher.”
His chest squeezed hard, like maybe his heart was swelling and bumping up against his ribs. “I’d like a moment with him too,” he said grimly.
A minute later, they came to a deserted elementary school. Ali slipped in between a small gap in the linked fence, like she’d done it a hundred times.
Luke eyed the gap. Not nearly wide enough for his shoulders, even if he squeezed in sideways. With a sigh, he climbed the fence.
Ali had claimed a swing and was watching him. There was something new in her face now. She was more than just closed off to him. She was closed off period, disassociated from their surroundings. He’d seen this all too often on the job, so he knew exactly what it meant. It meant that being here had brought her memories that were hard—if not impossible—for her to deal with. “Talk to me, Ali.”
“Well…” Her gaze tipped upward to the corner of the structure supporting her swing. “There’s that web right there, and I’m wondering where the owner of it is.”
“Long gone,” Luke promised.
“And then there’s the fossilized dog poo just behind you. Don’t step in it.”
“Ali.”
“I love getting to see my mom,” she said quietly. “And my sister.” She shook her head and kicked off gently to swing. “I just hate being here.”
He moved behind her and gave her a big push.
She sighed as she flew through the air, leaning back into the motion of the swing as if to savor the motion and the sun on her face.
“You went to school here,” he said, staying behind her, continuing to push her.
“I went to school here, yes. I also used to run away here. And hid away here too, when it was necessary.”
He’d stayed in back of her so that she wouldn’t have to look at him when she talked, sensing that she needed that. But now he was glad that she couldn’t see his face, because although he was good at hiding his feelings, he couldn’t seem to do it with her.
“I left here,” she said. “I wanted to go somewhere new and be smart and independent. I wanted people to like me. I wanted a new life. I wanted to be happy.”
He stopped her motion, and from behind her, pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “You are all of those things,” he said, “and more. Smart and sweet and caring.” He twisted the swing so that she faced him. Squatting before her, he took the steel chains in his hands, caging her in between his arms. “I’m going to talk now,” he said.
She opened her mouth, but he leaned in and kissed her to shut her up. “What you heard me say to Edward,” he said, moving back just enough to speak, “I shouldn’t have said.”
“I shouldn’t have stood there as long as I did,” she said. “When I heard you two talking, I should’ve gone back inside.”
“Lots of should haves. But you overheard me talking out my ass, Ali. You’re not a job to me. Not even close.”
She leveled him with those big, hazel eyes. “Then why did you say it? Twice?”
He blew out a breath and tried to put it into words. “I guess I was just coming to grips with what’s going on between us and I wasn’t ready to discuss it.” He let out a low, pained laugh. “Hell, Ali, I’m not good at talking about this stuff, even when I am ready.”
“And you’re not,” she said, eyes on his. “Ready?”
It was a question, not a statement. And a fair one. “I didn’t think so,” he admitted. “And the thought of being yet another man who’s disappointed you or let you down—”
She pulled back a little more at that. “I’m not your responsibility, Luke. I won’t be your responsibility.”
“I know that. But I care about you.”
She nodded, and yet her face was still closed off. Luke knew she felt off balance. Their location wasn’t helping much, but that wasn’t the number-one problem. The number-one problem was him. Him and the stupid, idiotic words that he’d thrown out there to get his grandpa off his back. “You’re not just someone who needed help,” he said to her, leaning in so that her knees touched his chest. “I don’t think of you like that.”
She was looking at him but through him, and worse, she was tensed for flight. He was already losing her. He could feel it. He was losing her before he’d even realized the miracle that he’d had.
Because like Mimi had said—she was a miracle.
His miracle.
She’d brought him back to life. He wasn’t sure how, or what he was going to do about it, but he knew that he had to figure his shit out fast before it was too late.
“I don’t need help,” she said.
“I know. I’m the one who needs it.”
This brought him a very small smile. It would seem she agreed that yes, he needed help. “I love your determination,” he said. “You’re tough and resilient, Ali. And amazing.” And he wanted her. More than he’d wanted anyone before. That alone was enough to terrify him, but he was willing to put the terror aside to make this right between them.
“You’ve got to go,” she said. “It’s late. And your job’s on the line. You’re going to have to drive all night to make it for your review.”
He didn’t move, and she closed her eyes. “Please don’t look at me like that,” she whispered.
“Like what?”
“Like you love me.”
His heart stopped. Just stopped. “I think I do,” he said.
He instantly knew his mistake. It was one of those big, life-altering bonehead moments that he couldn’t take back.
“You think you do,” Ali repeated softly. She sucked in some air, then shook her head with a low laugh. “You think…No. No, Luke, I’m here to tell you that you don’t. Because if you did love me, we’d have discussed like rational adults what would happen after you go back to San Francisco. Instead, we’re here, with you about to toss your cookies because you think it might be true that you feel something for me. God, the horror.”
