“So, when did you find out about me?” I asked, hoping she would give me the whole story so I didn’t have to keep questioning her. I knew it was a touchy subject.
“When the mayor called Luke. He and I had become extremely close, and while the other guys had ol’ ladies, Luke had me. We were closer than siblings, and, after what I had been through, Luke never let distance come between us. He told me, and, at first, I was excited. Then I learned that I couldn’t say anything because I couldn’t blow the club’s cover and let you know what was going on. I became extremely jealous of you, not because I was in love with Luke or anything, but because I didn’t have his undivided attention. He was still there for me, and we were still close, but he was falling for you and I could see it. When you started coming around, I hated you. I hated the way you looked, I hated that you had years of memories of time spent with my father, I hated that you were all the women ever talked about, and I hated that Luke was in love. I tried to make you jealous, I even tried to turn everyone against you. I never should have done that, Dallas, and I apologize. When we were in the back of that van, all I could think was that I had spent the short time I knew you constantly pushing you away when I should have been getting closer to you. I thought I might never see you again. It almost killed me. But now that I have you in my life, I never want anything to come between us again. I want to know everything about you. I want to get to know you, and I want Logan to know you. Promise me you won’t let anything or anyone come between us.” I looked into the shining eyes of my sister, silently thanking her mother Rebecca for choosing to keep her, so that I could spend the rest of my days making her happy, then I uttered those two little words that held more guarantee than any I had ever spoken.
“I promise.”
Now, it was Saturday night, I was at home, in my robe, sipping a glass of wine, and delighting in the feeling that my life was in a good place. Luke and I were good. I held no hard feelings against his harsh punishment, the reminders of which were healing quite well. It had taught me three things: One, Luke had a dominant side; two, I knew what the punishment would be if I crossed him, which I never planned to do again. Ever; and three, in no way, would I, nor could I ever, be submissive. This wasn’t entirely true, considering the submissiveness I was subjected to as an ol’ lady. Red and I had also resolved our problems, now that I was aware that her insecurities had absolutely nothing to do with me. She was not trying to reign over me, or make me feel insignificant when it came to Luke or the club. And then there was Maddie. My sweet little sister, who had my temper, our father’s grit, and her mother’s charm. No one was trying to kill me, Charlie was a distant memory, and construction was going to start next week on my new project that would result in the takedown of Mayor Kirkley. I had a meeting in two weeks in Atlanta, with an investor who was willing to expand his business to Hattiesburg, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t ready to get back to my old hometown, even if it was for only a few days. The only thing that could make this night any better would be if Luke were here. I picked up my cell, deciding to send him a message to let him know I was thinking about him. Chances were he wouldn’t respond, but he would see it sometime tonight and give me a call in the morning. I still wasn’t sure how things were going over there, or the details of the situation, but he had assured me every time we talked that everything was going fine.
*Just wanted you to know that I was thinking about you! Can’t wait to see your face!! I love you :)*
My phone vibrated almost immediately, notifying me of a message.
*Really? I was just thinking about you too. I’m tired of us being apart. Pack a bag and come stay with me.*
*Seriously?*
I sat staring at my phone, willing it to notify me of his response.
*Seriously babe.*
My face broke out into a smile, as my fingers worked feverishly to respond.
*How long? The weekend?*
I should call him. If he could text, maybe he could answer. I dialed his number, finding myself listening to his automated voicemail after the second ring. I frowned at my phone, pleading with the phone gods that his cell had not gone dead. My prayers were answered when his text came through.