Chapter Twenty
Open your door.
Luke groaned and rubbed his eyes, reading the text message through the blur of sleep. He’d been on transfers well into the night, and the two hours of sleep he’d gotten left a heavy weight in his head.
Open your door, Lucas.
Lucas? No one called him that except…
“Oh fuck.”
He slid out of bed and padded through the house in his underwear. Daylight streamed in from the windows, slicing through his head and blinding him. God, he hated being this groggy and tired, especially when nothing fun had caused it. Cautiously, he peeked through the peephole, fully expecting to see a perfectly made-up face on the other side.
Marvelene.
Ugh.
No one was there. Fine. He yanked the door open. If she didn’t have the curtesy to stand in front of the security peep, then she deserved to see him in his briefs.
A large box sat in front of his door, a note taped to it. He leaned out and ripped it off.
The only thing Greer and I have in common is a law degree. She’s happy with simpler things. Go get my daughter, Lucas. Don’t screw it up. —Marvelene
He read it again, just to be sure he wasn’t still in some sleep-doped haze. No, the perfect script was definitely hers, and the words said what he thought they did. He tossed the note onto the floor behind him and grabbed the top of the box. He pulled it inside, curious what was flopping back and forth inside it. Shutting the door, he opened the box in the shadowy light of his hallway. He pulled out a rectangular canvas framed in dark oak, the design soft in the shady light. Curious, he flicked on the hall light and sucked in a breath.
It was him. Sort of. Muted colors and sketch lines created his form, hunched over as he sat on the back bumper of an ambulance. His face was in his hands, his expression somber as a tear glistened from one eye. Before him in ghostly impression, a woman held a baby in her arms. The mother and child were wistfully created, so light that they appeared translucent.
The rest of the painting was done in bold strokes of subdued gray and blue and black. But behind him, with a shimmer and glow he couldn’t explain, a pair of angel wings unfolded and spread across the gloom.
Setting the painting aside, he grappled for the next. A female medic with intricately created silver wings knelt beside a mangled car. The third painting showed two medics, their wings hanging as if in defeat, next to the hospital bed of a ghostly, elderly woman. Each was signed and dated in Greer’s flowing cursive.
Luke sank onto the floor and pressed his back into the wall. He gripped the canvas with loose fingers, letting it rest on his knees as he ran a palm over his face.
She was so gifted, and this…this was how she’d been expressing her pain. The wall collapse, the near miss with the baby in the car wreck. All the other calls she’d handled since. While sex was a great outlet for him, she bled emotions onto the canvas. Her tears, the turmoil that went on in her mind. All here. All of it.
She’d turned it into a thing of honor. A thing of amazing beauty. How could tragedy be so breathtaking?
His vision blurred as he set the painting aside. God, he’d doubted her so many times. He’d thought in the deepest place in his heart that protecting her was his responsibility. That he should shield her from the pain of this job. Yet here she was, standing on her own feet, off-loading her demons onto canvas. There was strength in each line and brushstroke.
Luke had no doubt that with every touch of the brush, she healed a little inside. Every medic had their way of dealing, and this was hers.
Angels.
They were angels, even when they weren’t. Even when they couldn’t save someone. Even when it all went south. Maybe Greer needed to see that in herself, so she could deal when things got rough. He’d never thought of it that way, but she’d painted him into it. To remind him.
Placing the paintings carefully back into the box, he hurried through a shower and got dressed in his uniform. He had two hours until his shift started. Two hours to go get my daughter, Lucas. And don’t screw it up.
Marvelene must have suffered a head injury to be encouraging him. That woman hadn’t said an uplifting or positive word to him since he’d known her. Deciding not to mull it over now, he pulled out his cell and made a call, then loaded the box of paintings into his truck. He arrived at the fire station just as Greer’s ambulance blared out on a call. He caught her profile through the driver’s window as they sped past.
What if this pissed her off and it made things worse? People were sensitive about their art, but this was too incredible to be hidden.
He lugged the box upstairs to administration and dragged it to Chief’s office. He came out with a skeptical look. Luke held up a finger to give pause and pulled a painting from the box. He unwrapped it and turned it toward the chief.
His face softened into awe. “Wow. You weren’t kidding.”
Luke carefully took out the others and lined them up against the wall. Chief gave each a slow perusal.
“Let’s do it. I’m breaking my own rules here, Almeda. You understand the position I’m in here, right?”
“I do. But, technically, I work for 115 now, so the house rule shouldn’t really apply.”
“That’s a technicality that I don’t want to push too far.”
“Understood.”
Chief nodded for Luke to do his thing. An hour later, he’d finished. He listened on his handheld for Greer’s ambulance to radio they were back at the station, but it hadn’t returned yet. His clock was ticking. He’d have to leave in a few minutes to get across town to make his shift on time. He hadn’t realized how nervous he was until just then. He might end up missing her in passing, but if he did, this wasn’t over.
He hoped she realized that when she saw what he’d done.
Ten more minutes passed, and she still hadn’t returned. Disappointed and frustrated, Luke trotted down the stairs. Served him right that this wouldn’t be easy after the way he’d jerked her around. He cleared the last step and rounded the hall, coming up short to avoid running into someone.
Greer startled, a paper she’d been reading flying from her hand. His heart slammed in his chest. Her eyes went wide and filled with surprise and maybe a hint of joy at seeing him…though he was probably imaging that part.
Her face was flushed, her messy long braid slung over one shoulder. Her breasts rose and fell hard, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, or kiss him. He’d prefer the latter—to pull her against him and apologize.
But the stiffness to her shoulders and furrow in her brow warned him to take this gently, slowly. Increments worked best with Greer, and though it killed him not to touch her, he’d take it easy.
Luke retrieved the paper she’d dropped, noticing the legal sounding name at the top as he handed it back to her. She took it slowly.
“Thanks.”
“I didn’t hear you come back.” He said the words cautiously, afraid too much attempt at conversation might scare her off.
“We were having a problem with the mic.”
He groaned inside. The pace of their interaction was testing every ounce of his patience. They’d never tiptoed around each other, ever, and he didn’t want to do it now.
He couldn’t stop taking in the lines of her face. “Heading upstairs?”
She nodded and slowly folded the paper. She lightly cleared her throat and looked away. “Excuse me.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
She scratched her forehead and gave him a wide berth as she went around him. “I’m in a hurry. That’s okay.”
He was all for respecting her space, but not when it was this important. He’d say what he needed to, and if she still turned him away, so be it. He’d leave her alone. He curled his fingers to keep from reaching for her wrist. “Please, wait.”
She tossed her head back and leveled him with a stare. The bottom fell out of his heart at the perfectly set determination on her features. Man, did she get that look from her mother. She didn’t have an ounce of patience for him, and she wasn’t afraid to show it now.
“You wanted me to get over you. That’s what I’m doing. It’ll be easier if you leave me alone. What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be at your own station?”
Her tone cut him clear through. He’d done this to himself. This was what he’d wanted in the heat of the moment—in every moment that he hadn’t felt good enough for her. He’d wanted to push her away so she’d never look back and be disappointed in having chosen him.
Fuck, he hadn’t thought through how much it would hurt when she didn’t want him.
Ignoring the time, he trotted up the stairs and rounded the corner. Greer stood in the center of the hallway, staring at the wall.
Her paintings were perfectly hung, if he did say so himself, taking up just the right amount of visual space. She stood at the middle one, the picture of him, her hands loose at her sides. She was rigid and still, and he’d give anything to know what was going through her head.
Luke slowly walked toward her.
“I gave these to my mother,” she said without looking at him.
“And she gave them to me.”
She gawked a moment longer. “I was going to throw them away.”
He was mentally begging her to look at him. “I’m really glad that didn’t happen.”
Greer let out a breath and turned to him. He wanted to cup her face in his hands and run a thumb over her perfect lips. Instead, he stopped beside her, every nerve jumping at her proximity. Her features steeled again, save for the quiver of her lower lip. He wasn’t sure if she was going to cry or yell at him. Both, probably. Maybe he could save her the trouble.
“Before you get even more pissed at me, I’ve prepared an argument, your honor.”
She blinked. “You…what?”
He cleared his throat. “Prepared an argument.”
Her shoulders softened a bit, her head cocking slightly as a shadow of an amused smile tugged her lips. “I’m not a judge. So, ‘your honor’ is misplaced.” He made a little bob of his head as if to agree, then waited. She sighed. “Fine, go ahead.”
“A man should be able to give the woman he loves everything. The things she needs, the things she quietly longs for but never expects to have. A man should be able to sit back and enjoy watching his loved ones enjoying a comfortable life and say to himself, ‘I did that. I did my job in making them happy.’ Making you happy is what it all comes down to.”
A sparkle of tears glistened in her eyes. He had the heaviness in his chest to match. She ran a finger over her temple, catching a stray lock and tucking it behind her ear. Why wasn’t she saying anything?
“You…you love me?” The question was so soft, so timid, that his guilt ratcheted to new heights. Why had he waited on a fucking job offer to tell her?
“Yes, I love you! I’ve loved you so long I can’t remember not loving you.”
She gave a shuddering breath and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Luke’s chest went tight…waiting…hoping that she’d step into his arms. God, he wasn’t doing this right! Taking her by the shoulders, he looked into her eyes.
“I want you, Greer. Damn it, I want you. Forever. I always have, and I’m sorry that my ego got in the way. I don’t care if I have to work three jobs to make things comfortable for us. I will. If I have to stomp down my pride and let you make the money, I’ll do that, too. Whatever it takes to be able to love you for the rest of my life.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks, her lips trembling as she held her silence. Deflated, he tipped his forehead to hers.
“Please. Say something.”
A beat of silence passed between them, then another. Finally, she sniffed and wiped at her eyes.
“That was some argument.”
Hope seemed too painful to allow. “Yeah? Did I win my case?”
Standing tall, she held the paper in her hands out to him. His pulse ticked up as he scanned it. Another job offer from a legal firm. Another six figures, with full benefits. Something about flexible hours and a travel stipend. Some legal crap he didn’t bother to understand.
She looked up at him, wearing the hope he was too nervous to display. “I want a partner, not a provider. And I’ve always wanted it to be you. If you can promise to keep your pride out of my career path, then, yes, you’ve won your case.”
He gathered her up in his arms before she could say another word, burying his face in her hair, his chest expanding in spades as she clung tightly to him.
She turned in his arms, her face wet with tears, and leaned into his touch as he wiped them away. “I’ve been waiting seventeen years to hear you say that you love me.”
“It shouldn’t have taken that long.”
She tipped her chin up as he cupped her jaw. “I love you.”
He pressed his lips to hers, tasting the salt of her tears and the warmth of her skin.
“Hey, technicalities. Technicalities!”
She jumped, and Luke chuckled as Chief called out behind them. No fraternization between employees. Certainly, no kissing. To hell with the rules. He’d just won the most important case of his life. It was time to celebrate.
“Just one more.”
Greer plucked the paper from his hand and waved it toward Jeffers.
“Oh yeah, Chief…I resign.” She wrapped her arms around Luke’s neck and smiled. “It’s your lucky day. I’m taking the job at the law firm. Since I no longer work here, you can give me a hell of a lot more kisses than just one.”
He kissed her and held her tight. “It is my lucky day.”
“I’m your good luck charm, remember?”
Oh, he knew. And he was never letting go.