Page 32 of Worth the Fight

“If you do anything for me, sweetheart,” she says with a squeeze of my hand. Her eyes dart to the door where I’m sure Lukas is standing, likely hearing every word. “Just give him a chance. Hear him out. I think what he has to say will make a difference.”

CHAPTER 20

Magnolia

“Are you all right?” Lukas asks as we walk side by side out of the rehab facility. The early-afternoon sun shines brightly above us, attempting to warm the chilly spring air. A brisk wind picks up, swirling around the two of us, and it’s cold enough that I wrap the panels of my sweater around myself, hugging my core to ward off the chill.

I laugh a little at his question. All right? Sure, depends on which way you’re asking. “I just miss her, you know? I don’t get home too often, not nearly as often as I’d like.” We approach the side of his truck, and my heart tugs a little at the sight of it. This truck holds a lot of memories for us. Lukas bought it on a steal back in high school, and since it sat idle while he was in the military, it still looks brand new even though it’s older.

He crosses over to the passenger side with me, his hand darting out to reach for the handle before I can even try. Not once have I opened my own door with Lukas around, and it was a habit I got used to early in life, only to find out that not every man holds that same level of chivalry.

He opens the cab door, and I hop in. As I reach for the seatbelt, he does the same and our fingers tangle together. He drops his hand abruptly, his eyes darting to the pavement at his feet. “Sorry,” he says. “Muscle memory, I guess.”

I’ve always loved how protective Lukas was. How he valued my safety. What started out as a joke, that he didn’t trust the sea belt at first to keep me safe, turned into another favorite thing of mine. He stands idly while I lock the belt, and when I’m tucked in and comfortable, I turn back to him.

His eyes shine a bit, and I tilt my head, a slight question passing between us.

“Wasn’t sure I’d ever see you in the cab of my truck again, that’s all.”

His voice is low, soft, and that feeling is back, the one that starts in my chest, swirling around until it crawls up my neck, begging my eyes to sting. I lock on his crystal-blue eyes, and for a moment, I catch myself almost leaning in to kiss him, just like I used to do after climbing into his truck.

“Thank you,” I blurt out, and his brows pull together. “For Nana. I never thanked you for finding her that day, for checking in on her regularly, and caring about her like I do.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Mags. You know how much she means to me.”

Goosebumps spring up on my arms even though I’m sheltered from the wind in his truck. Oh, how I missed hearing him call me Mags. He’s said it over the phone a couple times, and once in the rehab center. You’d think I would be used to it after all this time, but I think I went so long without hearing him say it like he is now—cautious, softer, laced with emotion. It pulls my heart to him so quickly it’s nearly dizzying.

Lukas slams my door, and I inhale a heavy, ragged breath. My nostrils fill with the scent of him, of the ranch, of his lingering cologne and something that’s so unmistakably Lukas. I run my hands over the fabric of the seat, the feeling familiar under my palm. This truck holds a lot of memories for us. Some incredible ones, some that would make me blush. Some darker ones, too, small arguments, disappointment. Ones I had forgotten until now. They push themselves through the forefront of my mind, muscling past my anxiety over Nana and dread over the flight back to Paris. They slam into me so fast that my head falls back to rest on the seat. My eyes fill with tears again, and this time, I’m not sure if it’s just leftover emotion from seeing Nana, from seeing Lukas, or the havoc my body has been through with the red-eye flight and drastic time changes.

In many ways, he’s still the same Lukas. The same man I fell in love with. He looks the same, sounds the same. If it wasn’t for my still-broken heart and the car seat secured in the backseat of his truck, I’d say that nothing had changed.

“Hey, you okay?”

I didn’t even realize Lukas had climbed into the truck. But his gaze is on me with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting along the back of the seat.

“It’s both incredible and hard to be home sometimes, you know?” I force my gaze away from the seat and look around at the parking lot. “When my mom picked me up from the airport, the drive home was … different.”

He nods once but doesn’t say anything, waiting for me to continue.

“It’s hard to see home change so much when I’m gone.” Where there were once fields all along the highway, now the crops are ripped up and paved with parking lots. Big box stores have replaced mom and pop shops, and small subdivisions circle around man-made lakes that seem to be in the middle of nowhere. “So much has changed, and I’m glad to see that Copper Ridge isn’t dying out, but…”

“It’s weird to see some of the places we knew as kids are now gone,” he finishes.

“Exactly. My mom said they’re putting a supply store in old man Winchester’s field. Remember sneaking out to go there?”

He chuckles, nodding along. “We’d meet up and have a bonfire with friends in the old gravel pit behind it.”

Mr. Winchester had a grandson that was a grade older than us, and it seemed like the safe place to go as teens. Somewhere secretive, hidden, away from the noise where people who wanted to drink could do that, or people like Lukas and me could just get away to spend more time together. While everyone was standing around the bonfire drinking, Lukas and I would sneak into the woods. He’d press me against a tree and kiss me foolishly. I can still feel the scrape of the bark against my back, feel my heart beating wildly inside my chest.

Lukas starts the engine, turning on the heat and adjusting the vents to face me. His palm rests over one, as if waiting until it’s the perfect temperature before fully adjusting them in my direction. “Good?”

I nod, barely able to face him before I force my head in the opposite direction, looking out the passenger side window.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to grab some food before going to the airport?”

“No, I ate at my parents’ house before going to the rehab center. We can go somewhere if you’re hungry, though.”

“Do you need to stop at home?”