I want to throw up. No. I need a shot. No. I need to throw up.
Ah hell, I have no idea what I need. I’m a fucking mess.
I woke up this morning after only a few hours’ sleep, feeling confident and ready to face the day. This is the event I’ve worked hard for. I deserve this day and know that while we may run into a few little hiccups, for the most part everything will go fine.
Kathryn and Truman have been fantastic clients. We’ve managed to keep the pregnancy under wraps and while Kathryn began showing this past week, it’s nothing her dress won’t hide. She told me in confidence yesterday they’re telling their families tonight during photos about the baby and will share the news publicly after their honeymoon.
I’ve come to admire Kathryn and Truman’s relationship, and it is part of the reason I invited Lucas here tonight. I knew I was going to talk to him after this job was complete and I had a few days to sleep. And shower. But, spending the last few days with the couple made me realize how much I want this with him. I want the fairy tale and the perfect night celebrating how much I love him.
Hitting the button on my phone, I check the time for the fifth time in as many minutes. Fifteen more minutes. I can handle this. We’ve checked all of the wedding boxes and the bride and groom are on the dance floor with their friends, enjoying the last few hours of their reception. My duties ended when the cake was served, and I handed my tablet over to Leslie to supervise the end of the event.
The song is a popular dance song from the nineties, and I smile as the bride and groom bump and grind like a couple of teenagers. I love how unlike each are from their television persona. I never would have expected the woman who delivers some of the most devastating news stories in our area to also know the words to “Baby Got Back.” Not just know them but have a dance routine to the song as well.
Mind. Blown.
I’m laughing at a dance move Truman is doing when the song switches to something slow, and I watch as couples pair up or singles leave the dance floor. It’s when I spot a handsome man in a suit, holding a square box in his hand across the room from me, that my heart flutters in my belly.
Smiling the grandest of smiles, he walks toward me, and I take a step toward him. I watch as he sets the box on a nearby table and meets me in the middle of the dance floor and he extends his hand to me. Without hesitation, I take his hand and let him pull me to him.
Zing.
Zang.
Electricity.
It.
We sway together, the lyrics of the song wrapping around us. Words of a man asking a woman what it would take to love him, the desperation evident and the love strong. My heart leaps to my throat, the need to tell Lucas how I feel overwhelming me.
Each word sung is so close to our story. Roses, diamonds, and dancing. It’s there for us. Perhaps not the diamonds but the rest. How Lucas has put his heart on the line to me, and I’ve let it sit there, uncared for.
The tears fall beyond my control. I’m relieved he’s here and scared he may have changed his mind. Putting my heart on the line again scares me more than I will ever be able to explain. I’ve given my commitment and my love to a man who threw it away without a second thought. I can’t do that again.
But this is Lucas, and he isn’t the kind of man to do that. Lucas DeCosta is a good man. I know he’ll hold my heart in his with a gentleness I’ll never deserve, but will be grateful to have.
As the song ends and transitions to another, I step back and look into the eyes of the kindest person I know. The man who sets my heart and soul on fire with a single look. The man who sends desire through my every nerve with his touch. The man who holds my heart in his hand.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers as he lifts his hand. His thumb circles the apple of my cheek while his fingers tangle in my hair.
Smiling, I thank him before asking, “Want to take a walk?”
He hesitates but I nod that it’s okay before stepping out of his embrace. Stepping away from me, he grabs the small box from the table and hands it to me. Looking at him questioningly, I open the box and a giggle escapes when I see what’s nestled inside. A small bundle of suckers with a large bow holding them together. I lift the bundle and raise it to my nose as if it were flowers.
“This is actually what Jonah was supposed to deliver to you.”
Turning my head in question, I place the suckers back in the box.
“It was part of my plan, these are the suckers we used to have in high school. I always wanted to send them to you, to tell you I liked you. I was too chickenshit and then, well, you wouldn’t have wanted them.”
My heart soars, and I set the box down on the table before offering my hand. Lucas takes my hand and laces our fingers together, leading me out of the reception. We walk in silence for a few minutes, following a path that takes us to the small man-made lake the ceremony took place in front of. The arbor still stands where I watched Kathryn and Truman declare their love and commitment to one another, and I don’t argue when Lucas leads us to it.
“This is where the wedding was.” I say the words for no reason other than they seem to break the ice a little.
“I’m so proud of you, Whit.”
“Thanks. It’s been a crazy few weeks. I’m sorry I’ve kind of ghosted you. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to talk to you.” I can’t stop the quiver in my voice. I’m nervous and excited all the same.
“I told you, when you were ready.”
“There are so many things I want to say but I’m at a loss for words. I suddenly can’t think of a single thing to say.”
“Whitney Wheeler at a loss for words? Now there’s something I never thought I’d hear,” he teases.
I feign offense as I smack him in the stomach. Grabbing me around the waist, he pulls my back to his front and slides his hands around my waist. We sway to the music in the distance and I revel in the feeling of being in his arms again.
An indescribable need to tell him how I feel overcomes me, and I stop and pivot to face him.
“I love you.”
Three little words. Eight letters. Every emotion I have and everything I feel wrapped into a single phrase spoken every day. Yet, never before have I meant them with every part of who I am.
Placing his hands on either side of my face, a smiling Lucas brings his lips to mine, and I melt. I melt into his arms, into his kiss, and into his promises. When his tongue slips between my lips, my knees buckle, and I fall into him.
Like I knew he would, Lucas catches me without hesitation.
We kiss for what feels like hours, but I know isn’t. His lips are gentle, but his kiss strong. Each moment in his arms make me yearn for more. When we part, it’s devastating and yet invigorating because when I hear him speak the words back to me, I fall all over again.
“I love you so much. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Forever. You are my forever, Whit. I know we have things to work through, but never doubt my love for you and my commitment to us.”
Tears stream down my face but never land on my dress. Lucas swipes them with his thumb and lifts my chin so I’m looking in his eyes.
“Luke, I’m so sorry.”
“No.”
“What?” I ask.
“Don’t call me that.”
Smiling, I sigh into his embrace. “My Lucas.”
“Yours. Always.”
We stand locked together for a while, but when a breeze picks up and the music switches to a remixed version of “Last Dance,” I tell Lucas we need to head back to the reception so I can say goodbye.
“Before we go, I have to tell you something. About work.”
Leaning back from his embrace but never letting go, I look up to him as he continues.
“I’ve made changes. I never want you to feel, well like you did. You’re my priority. I still have to dance, but it won’t be much longer . . .”
Lifting my finger to his lips, I rise to my toes and smile as I say, “I love you for putting my feelings first. We can talk about it later.”
There are so many things we need to talk about, but this isn’t the time. Now, I want to go home with the man I will love until my last breath and revel in how amazing his love feels wrapped around me.