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Lucas
They couldn’t continue in limbo. He had to discover who sent the photos before he lost Shannon. He had to prove his innocence and make his wife fall in love with him again.
Possibilities ran through his mind as he started down the sidewalk toward the front of the café.
Becca waited for him by the truck. She stepped forward and placed a hand on his forearm. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” He climbed into his truck and waited for Becca to settle in the passenger seat. Why did a contractor’s assistant insist on wearing tight skirts that barely skimmed her knees? He focused on the windshield. “I’ll drop you at the office, so you can finalize tomorrow’s schedule with the crew.”
“Oh, you’re not staying this afternoon?” She frowned up at him. “I thought we’d go over the schedule together.”
“You can handle it. I have an errand that can’t wait.”
They rode to the office in near silence until Becca swiveled in her seat and latched her blue eyes onto him. Her intensity made her an excellent assistant for his booming contractor business. Becca held her own among the crew with never-ending enthusiasm and energy, but she creeped him out when she stared at him.
“I’m sorry your wife flirted in front of you.”
Say what? His mind blanked. She leaned over and placed a hand on his arm again, squeezed. All kinds of alarms rang in his head.
He shifted in his seat and moved his arm away from Becca. “Shannon wasn’t flirting. It was that sniveling little friend of hers. Pete’s had a thing for Shannon since college.”
“Well, if I had a husband like you, I wouldn’t stand for it.”
He swallowed. “I love my wife, Becca.”
“You’re an honorable man trying to make the relationship work. That’s why I admire you.”
Good grief. He switched on the radio and stared straight ahead through the windshield.
After he dropped Becca at the office, he turned back from the historic homes district toward downtown. If he remembered correctly, his soon-to-be sister-in-law Freesia had a friend who ran a security business. She may know how to find a reputable private investigator.
When he walked into Freesia’s flower shop, her sister looked up from the counter. Rosemary had a couple of customers, but she waved and smiled.
“Is Freesia here?” he asked.
“Sure, in the back.” Rosemary excused herself to call Freesia to the front room.
He lingered in the front, reading the giant wall-mounted chalkboard listing the flowers available and prices for arrangements. Should he get Shannon flowers? He wouldn’t have hesitated a few months ago, and a pang sliced his gut. How did they get here?
Freesia slipped up beside him. She didn’t speak, par Freesia, but she tracked his gaze to the sign. “You could show you care with something simple, not overwhelming.”
“I’m not sure she will accept my flowers.” The admission made it out of his mouth, but left the horrible aftertaste of shame.
“It doesn’t hurt to try. How about a single daisy? It means loyal love.”
He glanced down at Freesia, met her hazel eyes full of sympathy. “All right. I actually came for something else.”
“How can I help?”
“Don’t you have a friend with a security company?”
“Jayce. Is something wrong?”
He took a breath. “I need a private investigator.”
Her eyes flew wide. “Are you—I mean...”
“You and Shannon have grown close. Has she told you what’s going on between us?”
Freesia’s cheeks pinked. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
“Will you help me without telling her what I’m doing?”
She thought about that for a second. “If you’re trying to fix things and not hurt her.”
“I would never hurt Shannon. Not on purpose.” Emotion swamped him, and he couldn’t trust his voice. He turned from Freesia to stare at the collection of vases on display.
“I believe you. Jayce can help.” She gave him a wavery smile. “I’ll get his number and wrap a daisy for you.”
“Thanks, Freesia.”
He waited, studying the summer window display. Was it the start of July already?
She returned and handed him a flower wrapped in dark red paper. “I hope everything works out for the two of you.”
“Me, too.”
He paid and waved goodbye to Rosemary as he headed out the door.
Sitting in the truck, he dialed Jayce’s business number.
Freesia must’ve given him a direct line because Jayce answered, “Jayce Truett. Spill.”
Lucas felt his lips twitch in a smile. “My name is Lucas Knight. I’m a friend of Freesia Bellamy’s.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I need a private investigator.”
“I can give you names.”
“Great.” Lucas’s hands clenched around the steering wheel. “I’d appreciate it.”
Lucas searched through his overflowing glovebox for a pad of paper and grabbed a pen from the cupholder. Shannon used to organize his receipts, estimates, and orders. As papers tumbled onto the floorboard, he could hear her voice scolding. He could see Shannon standing, hands on her hips, head shaking in frustration. He remembered the feel of her as he pulled her into his arms and her taste as he kissed her into forgiving him. Everything hurt. He took a breath and rubbed his eyes.
“Ready.” He scribbled the names and numbers.
“Try Walker first. If you can’t get him, try Brightman.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Tell them I referred you, so I get a cut.”
Lucas laughed. “Sure thing.”
He dialed Walker, and the receptionist put him through.
“My name’s Lucas Knight. Jayce Truett recommended your services.”
A strange beat of silence passed, then a chuckle rumbled. “I’m sorry, Mr. Knight, but I won’t be able to help you.”
“Oh. That’s disappointing. Do you have any recommendations?”
“No one as good as me, I’m afraid.”
“What about Brightman?”
“Hmmph. Might as well. Ask for an investigator fresh from school. Newbies are eager to solve cases and more likely to follow the rules to get licensed.”
Interesting. “Thanks.”
Another chuckle. “Happy to assist, Mr. Knight. Just out of curiosity, what is it you’re investigating?”
“I have to prove I didn’t cheat on my wife.”
“I wish you well in your case.”
Lucas hung up with Walker’s laugh echoing over the phone.
Shannon
Lucas rang the bell at exactly five-thirty. Shannon huffed as Gretchen giggled up at her from the changing table. Of course, that man had an internal watch.
“Cody, make sure that’s your dad and let him in!” she called as she hurried to finish dressing Gretchen.
Her seven-year-old’s feet thumped down the stairs to the front door. “Dad!”
“Hey, Code-man. Give me a hug.”
Lucas’s voice warmed to syrup when he spoke to the kids. She fought the mush it made of her heart and hefted Gretchen to her hip. She listened to Cody jabber while she headed downstairs.
This conversation was months overdue, but her steps dragged. Had she waited too long to hire the investigator? Was Lucas done with their marriage? Was she considering fighting for them?
She walked through the entry hall and into the Victorian parlor they used as a living room.
Lucas stood in the room’s center admiring the artwork Cody had made that day. Lucas’s rugged handsomeness in work jeans and button-up chambray shirt contrasted with the formal elegance of the baby grand piano.
Did he have to be so unbelievably sexy? She couldn’t drag her traitorous stare from his length.
Her husband was a mix of contrasts with effortless masculinity, yet he could speak his emotions as if he painted them across a canvas. He felt with a depth he wasn’t ashamed to reveal. That combination of physical strength and open emotion used to make her feel safe and cherished. It used to make her trust him.
He glanced up, blue eyes turning wary as he watched her approach. He shifted, throat clearing. “I stopped by Freesia’s.”
She tore her eyes from his face to the flower he held, a daisy. The tag tied around the wrapping read “loyal love”. Oh, Lucas... His name breezed through her mind like an agonized breath. She met his gaze. Freesia didn’t sell a flower that meant betrayal? Liar? Cheater? Heart breaker? She couldn’t say those things with the kids present, but he read her face. His hand dropped.
Gretchen reached for Lucas, and he snuggled her close. “Look how big you’re getting, ladybug.” His cheek pressed against her full head of black curls, identical to his hair, and he inhaled a deep breath. He looked back at Shannon, eyes bleak. “I can’t go on like this.”
“I know.” They agreed on one thing: It was time to decide. She had hoped for time to get the PI’s verdict on the pictures.
Watching Lucas with the kids brought back too many sweet memories. He had been a model father, and through both pregnancies he’d been affectionate, supportive. How could the man she thought she married cheat? It made no sense.
Lucas tore at her heart. He remained in their lives, even attending family functions as if things were normal. Except nothing was normal, and most days she couldn’t stand to look him in the face.
He visited the kids nearly every day. It wasn’t the same since he left each night. The house settled, the kids slept, and she existed alone in the silence. She woke in the morning with Lucas missing, with part of herself missing. She alternated between yearning for him and hating him.
“Cody,” she said, trying to keep the emotion from her voice. “Take Gretchen into the kitchen and give her puffs.”
“May I have cheesy fishes?”
“Yes. Go on.”
Cody glanced between them and carried his sister through the living room, through the dining room, to disappear into the kitchen.
“Do you want a divorce?” She threw out the words in a harsh whisper, bracing for the pain, hoping for what? Denial? A declaration of love? The truth about an affair?
Lucas’s entire body stiffened. “How can you ask me that? I never wanted to separate! None of this,” a hand slashed between them, “was my idea.”
“So why did you want to talk?” Shannon forced herself to hold Lucas’s intense gaze.
“I need us to be together. I’ve tried to prove I’m not going anywhere, but it’s been too long. Let me come home.”
“I’m supposed to ignore the evidence?”
“You’re supposed to believe me!” He stalked forward, right into her space. “You know me, Shannon. At least, I thought you did.”
“That makes two of us.” She forced her chin to hold steady, to stare him in the face and hold her ground even though she was shaking. “Who was she? Someone you work for? Someone you work with?” Part of Shannon wished she could let it go, forget the photos, but her heart was too scared. “Maybe you regret it, but I have to know... Lucas, please, tell me the truth.”
“The truth?” An expression she’d never seen before crossed his face, a mix of agony, anger, devastation. “The truth is, I’m not whole without you. Half of my heart beats in your chest.” Taking a step closer, he rasped, “I miss you so much. Every day we’re apart is torture.”
Everything in his face begged her to believe him, and tears blurred her vision. Lucas reached for her, but she put out a hand to stop him. She couldn’t bear his touch. Until she knew, she couldn’t bear it.
“What do you want me to do?” Words scraped from him in a rough, broken whisper, “Anything. Just tell me what to do.”
“I don’t know.” She took a step back, crossing her arms. “I need more time.” If she could prove the photos fake, it would be enough. If she could know and somehow purge this pain.
He turned from her, pushing his fingers through his hair, then again, and again. “No more time, Shannon.”
“What?”
“Where are the pictures?”
She stared at his back, the taut, bunched muscles. “Why?”
“I have to go.” His face shut down, finished, spent. “I need the pictures.” The switch from pleading to distant and angry scared her, made doubts soar.
“I don’t have them here, but I can bring them to you tomorrow. Where will you be?”
He gave her a sharp look but pulled out his phone. “I texted you the address of the house I’m remodeling. I should be there the entire day.”
She opened her mouth to ask about the project but stopped. It had been instinctive, something they used to discuss. Lucas loved restoring historic houses, and he did it with skill, artistry. His reputation had Olde Towne’s architects fighting for his time. Not sharing his work made him feel a million miles distant.
“I can work on the attic room in a few days.” His voice had changed, morphed into the frosty stranger-voice they’d used between each other for months. How did he do it? Just cut off the emotion? She was reeling.
“That’s unnecessary.”
His crystal blue eyes flashed. “Did I promise you a master suite?”
She nodded.
“Well then, you’re getting a master suite. I’m shoring up the joists, laying insulation and subfloor.”
“I’ll be home.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. They’d fought over this since the separation. The master made no sense without Lucas. Thinking of it without him hurt, but he refused to stop. If anything, Lucas had become more driven, more determined, to complete the attic remodel for her. “Cody’s pool party is this weekend at the estate,” she said, trying to regain even footing.
“I remember.” He took a deep breath. “I have to go.”
His gaze lingered on her face.
She turned away, so Lucas left to tell his children goodbye.
––––––––
THE NEXT MORNING, SHANNON’S phone rang before she had the kids fed and dressed. Holding a carton of orange juice in one hand and Gretchen on a hip, she stood in the center of the kitchen and swung in a circle.
Cody spoke through a mouthful of cereal, “On the table, Mom.”
She laughed and swapped the carton for the phone. “Hello.”
“Mrs. Knight, this is Everette Walker returning your call.”
“Yes, I wondered if you could make copies of the photos. I need to pick up the originals.”
“Can you come in at ten?”
“I’ll see you then.”
