He’d been a fool to think he could fix this with a simple explanation. He would have to humble himself completely to have a shot at getting past the shields he could see dropping into place behind L.J.’s eyes. Before he could second guess his instincts, Carter crossed the room in three long steps and took Lula’s slim hand in his.
“I’m so sorry for leaving, Lu. Sorry doesn’t even begin to cut it. It’s my biggest regret, and I’ve done a lot of things worth regretting,” he said, pushing on when her eyes widened in disbelief. “Obviously, I’m off to a terrible start with this, but if you give me a second chance, I’ll prove to you I’m not the fool I was before.”
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her cheek, his heart breaking when he smelled her sweet, wild rose and smoky tea scent; the smell that had haunted him his entire adult life. Every time he passed a tea shop or a rose garden, Lula danced through his mind, her long arms twisting above her head the way they had when the two of them used to go dancing. She had been so beautiful back then, so uninhibited and full of joy and so his.
And he’d let it all slip away, putting himself through hell instead of clinging tight to the piece of heaven he’d been lucky enough to hold in his arms.
But now Lula was here, so close, her breath warming his cheek as she exhaled. It couldn’t be too late for them, not when every cell in his body was crying out that this was where he belonged.
He pulled back to look into Lula’s eyes, his pulse pounding and his chest aching, silently praying that she’d felt the surge of connection, too. “What do you say?” he asked softly.
Lula’s lips parted, then pressed together, parted and pressed together again. But she didn’t say a word, and her cloudy green eyes remained closed against him, keeping her secrets. Meanwhile, the stunned silence that had followed in the wake of his declaration stretched on, making Carter increasingly aware of their audience.
He cleared his throat. “Maybe I could come back tonight and talk some more? When you’re feeling better?”
Lula blinked up at him before slowly nodding her head yes, loosening the vice that had been crushing his ribs.
“Thank you,” he said, breath rushing out. “I’ll be back at six, and I’ll bring supper. I’ll see you then.” He turned, touching the brim of his Stetson to the other women, before bolting for the front door at what he hoped was a reasonable speed.
As he stepped out into Lula’s front garden, the urge to flee abated, but he didn’t stop to admire the poinsettia display or examine the faces of the garden gnomes peeking from the bare rose vines. He needed to get back to his hotel room and regroup before tonight.
Obviously, Lula’s heart was as raw and unhealed as his own. He’d hoped she’d be in a place where she could look back on their failed romance with nostalgia, a nostalgia he could use to his advantage as he fought to win her love all over again. But clearly her soul still hurt, too. It simultaneously gave him hope—she must have loved him as deeply as he’d loved her—and made his own pain even worse. He hadn’t suffered alone these past eleven years. Lula had suffered with him, all because he’d been too stupid to realize that the greatest treasure in the world was the heart of the woman who had cared for him so deeply he would have never reached the end of her love.
He vowed, as he crossed the sunny street beneath the Christmas garland bobbing in the wind, that he would find a way to take her pain away, no matter what the cost.
3
Lula
Lula lay on the counter, blinking up at the ceiling, too shocked to care that half the influential women in Lonesome Point had just witnessed Carter’s plea and the kiss that followed.
The kiss…
It had only been a fleeting moment, the barest press of his warm skin against her cheek. But their entire love affair had flashed before her eyes, filling her with so many conflicting emotions that she still couldn’t form words long minutes later. It wasn’t until Mia’s wild red curls popped into sight above Lula’s head that she finally felt life returning to her shell-shocked lips.
“Tallulah Josephine Watson,” Mia said, her eyes wide in her flushed face. “Who the hell was that?”
“Don’t curse, Mia.” Lula pushed into a seated position on the counter and took the glass of orange juice Dr. Kemp pressed into her hand. “Carter is just…an old friend.”
“Why don’t my old friends look like that?” Dr. Kemp asked, summoning murmurs of agreement and giggles from the rest of the women.