Lucky's Choice(127)

“Yes … Please, listen to me—”

“Smiling or hurting, which one am I doing now, Lucky?” she whispered.

He took a step forward. “I only bet Moon to make him stay away from you. Hell, Willa, half the town’s in love with you. Dustin can’t stay away from you, Alec ate junk food for you, Rider wants to know what you’re doing all the time, and Moon’s been driving back and forth between Ohio and Kentucky just to get a glance of you. So, yeah, I bet him before we were engaged. I kept telling myself that I was doing it to protect you from him, but I lied to myself. God knows I lied to myself from the moment I looked up from reading my sermon and saw you sitting in the church with the sun shining down on you. I was going to marry Beth just so I could keep you safe from Bridge.”

“What?” Beth gasped.

“I wouldn’t have let him hurt her any more than I would have you,” Lucky explained, “but I was so close to breaking that I was afraid, if I didn’t marry Beth, I would seduce you. I kept telling myself what I felt for you was a figment of my imagination, because I was undercover for so long. But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want my ring on anyone’s finger but yours, despite the lies I told myself.

“I took the bike and have been riding it, yes, because I paid Rider for it. He finally agreed to sell it to me.” He ran his hand through his hair. This was going to be the hardest part to explain.

“Yes, I told Jenna her frosting tasted better than yours. I lied, and you know I did, but that’s not what has you so pissed. What has you so mad is that I did the taste-test the same way.”

His voice went achingly soft. “I’m going to tell you something that’s not easy for a man to admit. The only way I could touch that woman or any woman was to pretend it was you under me. That doesn’t make it right, and it’s pretty shitty, I know, but it’s the truth. I fucked up with how I treated you from the beginning. I should have realized what I felt for you wasn’t going away. I should have dealt with Bridge a long time ago. I didn’t want another man’s death on my conscience. But the hardest part was what God was trying to tell me all along.”

“What?” Willa whispered.

Lucky took a step forward. “When I heard His voice that day in church, I misunderstood. I thought He was telling me to do more, to give of myself more.”

“He wasn’t?”

“No, He was trying to tell me I would have more. He wanted me to see that I would have more brothers than I could count, that I would have a town I would be more than content in, that I would have one I’d love. But most of all, He showed me that I would have more than a wife by my side. I would find a woman who would take my soul and give me hers. I would have more, much more, than I ever expected and much more than I damn sure deserve.#p#分页标题#e#

“Ask me how much I love you,” he choked out, praying she would ask.

“How much do you love me?” she repeated.

Lucky held his arms open as wide as he could. “This much.”

Willa gave him a watery smile, stepping into his arms, which he closed tightly around her.

“Do you really think her frosting tastes better than mine?”

Lucky came to the conclusion that he was never going to understand his wife if she was too shy to ask the real question.

“No, siren, no one makes better frosting than you,” Lucky said truthfully.

“Let me see your hands.”





Chapter 37



“Are you sure about this?”

Willa jumped when she heard Lucky’s question from the other side of the bathroom door.

“I’m sure.” Willa made her voice sound firm, but inside, she was trembling with nerves. She wasn’t afraid of Lucky; she just didn’t want to disappoint him. She didn’t want to come up short compared to the other women he had played with before.

“If you’re not afraid, why aren’t you coming out?”

“I’m just finishing up what you told me to do,” Willa lied. She had finished showering and wiping herself down with alcohol ten minutes ago.

Her hand went to the doorknob. So help her God, if she opened the door and he bore any resemblance to Jack Nicholson in The Shining, she was going to lock herself in the bathroom, screaming the safe word he had made her pick.

She slowly opened the door to see Lucky leaning against the bedroom wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was only wearing a pair of jeans, his face hidden in the shadows of the bedroom, giving him a dangerous appearance she wasn’t so sure was merely an illusion.

Her heart stuttered when she saw the selection of knives laid out on the nightstand with a pitcher of ice water and a glass. What was that for? To throw on her if she passed out?