Celeste smiled and gave his arm another pat. “Both are better with a sprinkle of sugar. I’m so glad our paths happened to cross today. Safe journey, Lucca.”
“You, too, Celeste.”
The air seemed to grow colder after she left, and when the sound of her motorcycle faded, the world around him was as quiet as Lucca could ever remember—quiet, but peaceful, too, and it allowed him the perfect opportunity to think his decision through.
He definitely owed Hope an apology. He’d been an ass at lunch, and he’d deserved the arrows she’d fired his way. Hadn’t she been magnificent in her anger?
Of course, she’d been glorious in her misery, too.
What the hell had happened to Hope to put such pain and anguish in her tone? When she’d declared that other people had suffered tragedies and lived through all nine circles of hell, she hadn’t come up with those points out of the blue. She’d spoken from experience. And what about her devastation Saturday night? What had her ex- husband said in his phone call that had destroyed her so thoroughly?
“What happened to you, Hope?” A tragedy, certainly. A hellish event. Something big and dark and ugly that no one in town knew about. Otherwise, he’d have heard about it. The small-town gossip network thrived in Eternity Springs.
Spying the hawk as it took to the air once more and flew out over the valley, Lucca found his purpose. He had given Hope Montgomery escape with sex, but escape was not what she needed. It wasn’t what either of them needed. He knew that now as certain as he stood here. For the past two years, he had focused on his own heartache. Well, time to make a turn. Tragedy was no excuse for selfishness.
Of all the things she’d said to him at lunch, one sentiment stood out.
Unspoken were the words “I do.”
So Lucca was going to give Hope Montgomery something more valuable than escape. He had a big, broad pair of shoulders. It was time he used them for something worthwhile. Hope had friends, but she didn’t have a confidant. He could fill that role for her. He could offer her a meaningful friendship. He could offer to share her burden so that when desperate times occurred, she didn’t have to escape into sex with a near stranger. She could come to him and say “I’m hurting” and he could reply “I understand. I can help.”
Not that helping couldn’t include sex if that’s what she wanted. Hey, he had nothing against being a full- service friend. But the goal here, the purpose, would be to share her pain. To end her aloneness.
Family didn’t fix that. Sure, they loved and supported, and in doing so helped. But the whole “walk a mile in my shoes” thing had merit. No one who hasn’t lived the despair can truly understand it.
Lucca had lived it. Now he would use that experience to help Hope find not escape, but healing. And in doing so, perhaps he’d find healing himself.
Okay, then. The first step definitely needed to be the apology. As he returned to his truck and took the winding road back toward town, he considered how best to do it. He could send her flowers with a sincerely worded card. Or he could show up on her front porch with flowers and hat in hand and deliver the apology in person. That might work better.
Of course, the best way to do it would be to show up at the school and do it. At basketball practice.
His stomach took a roll. His foot tapped the brakes. Was he sure about this? Or had the cold frosted his brain?
He could just let this whole idea go. He’d gone along without purpose for a while now. He could continue down that road. He didn’t need to know what her secret was. They’d had a one-night stand. He could chalk it up as a mistake and put it behind him. Then on the anniversary, he could wallow. He could be alone.
Lucca drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. It was true, and he could do this. He wanted to do this. One corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin. Go figure.
She would think he was doing it for the boy, and in a minor way, she’d be right. But Lucca had caught sight of a side road that interested him, and he’d decided to make a little detour.
Lucca carefully, cautiously, gave the gas pedal a goose and headed toward Hope.
“I’m sorry to flake out on you, but I can’t help with your basketball team today, after all,” Gabi Romano told Hope when she called shortly before practice. “I had an unexpected trip come up. I’ll be gone for two and a half weeks.”
“Oh, really? Where are you going?”
Gabi told her about a wealthy couple from Tulsa who owned a vacation house in the mountains west of Eternity Springs. “They adore me because back before I left the sheriff’s department, their beloved Precious escaped the vacation house and got lost in the woods and I found her. Now the Thurstons need someone to dog- sit while they travel with another couple. They gave me my choice of their beachfront villa in south Florida or the mountain mansion an hour out of Eternity Springs. It was a tough choice, but I chose white sand and a turquoise sea. And they’re paying me more than I made at the sheriff’s department.”
“They don’t have a second dog that needs sitting, do they? I wouldn’t mind an hour commute from a mountain mansion.”
“Sorry, Hope. I do feel bad about leaving you in the lurch this way. But it’s only a couple of weeks, and you’ll still have Zach’s help. He said he’d pitch in whenever he could manage, and this isn’t usually a busy time of year for him.” Gabi let out a sigh, then added, “I wish I could suggest you talk to Lucca, too, but I honestly think it would be a waste of breath.”
Hope’s only response to that was a flat “Hmmm.”
The two women spoke a few more minutes, then Hope bade Gabi bon voyage and ended the call. She wished the timing had been better for her players, but she couldn’t blame Gabi for taking advantage of such a great opportunity. A beach sounded lovely, too. Maybe during semester break, she could take a little beach vacation herself.
A glance at the clock showed her that she was five minutes late for practice. She grabbed her clipboard and exited the athletic office with a smile pasted on her lips. She was determined to convince her team that all was not lost simply because she was their coach.
She heard the multiple
Lucca Romano stood on the court directing her players in a drill. She couldn’t have been more shocked if LeBron James had suddenly appeared in the school gym. Her players looked as if they’d died and gone to heaven. Lucca had a “tense, but holding on” look about him. Spying Hope, he nodded. “Hello, Coach Montgomery.”
Questions spun through her mind. Why was he here? Was this a one-time thing? Or was he going to serve his volunteer pledge this way? Was there any chance at all that he’d take over the team completely?
Hope knew, however, that this was not the time for questions, so she swallowed hard, then cautiously said, “Coach Romano. Is there … ah … what can I do to help?”
He put her to work as his secretary, taking notes as he dictated. He spoke quietly so as not to be overheard as he evaluated the players’ strengths and weaknesses. He kept his comments businesslike, and when he finished the evaluation, he suggested that she take a seat. “I know you’ve been working nonstop since before dawn. I can take it from here.”
She studied him, unable to read his expression. She was tired—exhausted, to be honest—so she did as he suggested. As she watched him spend time with each boy individually, offering instructions and critiques, it
