Lucky Charmed Read online

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I get it. But I want the real deal.” Sully pulled his hand away and raked his fingers through his hair, staring forward into the darkness. Somewhere up ahead was the pond and across that was our cove and where we’d just done everything we should have never done. “After tonight, it’s going to be all I can do to watch you get out of this truck. If you sleep in my arms tonight, I won’t be able to watch you walk away.”

  Wham.

  I looked at his profile, and memorized it. The one I’d carried with me was Sully as barely more than a boy. This man—I would never forget this man. I clapped a hand over my mouth, pressing hard against my lips to stem the full-out ugly cry I felt coming on. He didn’t need to have that be his last memory of me.

  He pulled my head to his lips and kissed my forehead, lingering there, and I touched his face. He didn’t want to kiss me; I knew that instinctively. He would break if he did, and he was too proud for that. If Sully Hart was going to lose his composure that way, no one would ever see it.

  He pulled back and reached for my hand, squeezing it.

  Don’t let me go. Ask me to stay.

  “Take care of yourself, love.”

  He didn’t just say that.

  Air rushed from my lungs, and I sucked it back in. Don’t show it. Walk away.

  Turning away, I opened the door, bathing us in light, and forced myself out of his truck on feet I couldn’t feel.

  Why am I leaving? Ask me!

  I couldn’t shut the door, standing there staring at it like it needed to move on its own. Close the door. Walk away. Get in your car.

  “Carmen.”

  “Yes?” I said, my head jerking his direction, my heart slamming against my ribs.

  I would. I knew in that very second of last hopes and dreams, that I would. If he asked me to stay in that crap town forever, I would. The realization of that nearly took me to the ground.

  “What did you see?” he asked instead. “With Bailey. What did he make you see?”

  The hope curled into a fetal position, withered up into a charred mess, and died. He would never ask me. Sully had told me that he didn’t want me to go, and that was as close as he’d get. He’d never ask the question and make himself the reason I stayed, no more than I would ask him to give up his dream and come with me.

  “History repeating itself,” I said. I kissed my fingers and touched the seat I’d left vacant. “I love you, Sully Hart.”

  The look on his face would never leave me. Ever. If I lived to be three hundred and fifty-two years old, I’d see that pain searing through his eyes for the rest of my life.

  I shut the door, sucking in several breaths as I kept my hand on the handle. As long as I didn’t take my hand away, I could still take it back. Take it all back. Get back in and say those words again and again and again and bury myself in everything Sully. Silently, I stood there for the longest seconds of my life.

  “Stop me,” I whispered on a ragged breath, crying harder as the words stabbed my heart. “Please, Sully,” I sobbed.

  His engine starting made me jump. I let go.

  I let go. It was done. Nodding in the dark, I turned to my car and dug for my keys with shaking fingers, managing to get in and drive away without hitting anything or passing out from hyperventilation, both of which were imminent. His truck never moved. I drove away and left the park in darkness, and he never moved.

  I didn’t even remember the drive to Lanie’s house, or walking up to her porch. Suddenly I was just there, holding three bags and losing my shit completely.

  When she opened the door, her face went from pissed to worry to alarm.

  “What’s the matter?” she said, rushing forward as my world caved in from all sides.

  “I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry I didn’t—te-te-tell you,” I hiccupped. “I couldn’t and I wanted to b-b-but I didn’t know how to—tell you goodb-b-bye.”

  Lanie’s eyes filled with tears, and she took the bags from my hands.

  “I know,” she said, her voice wobbling. “I’m sorry, too. I’m just gonna miss you so much. We just—”

  “Got this back—I know,” I said, wiping at my face and hugging my arms around my waist. Sully’s face swam across my vision, and I shut my eyes tightly. “But it won’t b-b-be like before,” I wailed. Yes, I wailed. I was that far gone.

  She shook her head, tears flowing down her face. “No. We have cell phones now.”

  “And Skype,” she added, transferring the bags to one hand so she could wipe her face. She sniffed one and frowned. “What did you give me?”

  I covered my face, shaking from head to toe. “The hamburgers are p-p-probably garbage, but maybe the pie’s still good?” I knew I could barely be understood but that she would get it. I needed her. “We—we—and I saw my father—my father! And—he did the same—and Sully—oh God his face—I said I loved him.” I doubled over, unable to breathe. I’d hurt him. Telling him the most intimate thing in my heart had crushed him.

  “What happened?” Nick said, walking up behind Lanie with a concerned look.

  Her gaze landed on me, sharp, and she reached for me and pulled me inside, sniffling.

  “She slept with Sully.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “How did you get that?”

  “I speak hysterical female,” she said, walking me to the couch.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Okay, talk to me,” Lanie said as we settled in with leftover pie (still awesome when heated) and the ice cream that Nick added before bailing to the bedroom. I didn’t blame him. I was usually the level-headed one, not the one snotting all over the place, unable to form complete sentences.

  “I went… to the cove,” I hiccupped.

  “You drove over there?”

  I shook my head. “Boat.”

  “Tonight? After dark?”

  I nodded, the burn closing my throat again as I remembered the final scene.

  “With Sully?”

  “By myself, but he was there.” I covered my face with the paper towel Nick had given me. He’d left me the entire roll. “Skinny dipping.”

  “Y’all went skinny dipping?” Lanie asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “He dared me,” I managed.

  She shrugged and nodded, no further explanation necessary. That was why she was my best friend.

  “So then—that.”

  “And—?”

  “Amazing,” I said, my voice cracking. I closed my eyes. “Not because of the sex, which—yeah, but—damn it.”

  “Crap.” She shoved a spoonful of ice cream and pie into her mouth. “Take a bite.”

  I spooned some pie and ice cream and let the warm and cold sweetness work its magic on my tongue. Cool my mouth. Cool my blood.

  “You said you told him—”

  I nodded as my eyes filled again, making the bowl swim before me. “I did. Then shut his door and… the look on his face.” I would never forget that. Ever.

  She pointed to my bowl with her spoon. “Eat.”

  We ate in silence for a moment, our spoons clinking the glass bowls.

  Lanie took her final bite. “So now what?”

  “I don’t know.” I swirled melted ice cream around the remains of my pie.

  “You aren’t disappearing off the face of the earth, right?” Lanie asked, setting her bowl down for Ralph to lick. “I mean, your mom’s here, and—”

  “And you’re here,” I continued. “And my house is here. Yes, obviously I’m coming back at some point, but… maybe just to visit.” I met her eyes. “I don’t know yet, and that’s the whole point—I don’t want to know yet. I want to know what that’s like.”

  She nodded. “I get it.”

  “Do you?”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “Not really, but I get that you do. And that’s enough.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “Wait, what did you say about—your father?” she asked.

  “Oh God,” I said, setti
ng my bowl down and giving Ralph a really good night. “I don’t even know how to explain that one.”

  I went through it as best I could, starting with my mother’s confession and then describing the experience with Albert Bailey. When I closed my eyes to picture the scene, it felt like a dream on steroids.

  When I was done, Lanie sat there with wide eyes.

  “Holy shit.”

  I nodded. “Holy shit.”

  “Do you… do you think that was real? That it really happened?” she asked.

  “I don’t know what else it would be,” I said, pulling a pillow into my lap. “I mean, I’ve never been big into that stuff, but it sure as hell felt real. And then there’s Aunt Ruby—oh, and he was friends with her!”

  Lanie leaned forward. “Seriously?”

  “He said they were close once,” I said. “He already knew who we were because of her.” I ran fingers through my now-dry pond-water hair. “I would have asked more on that, but then my father entered the picture and my brain exploded.”

  “Wow,” she said. “Man, I wish she was around to ask.”

  “Hey,” I said, reaching across for her hand. “Thank you.”

  She tilted her head in her very Lanie way. “For what?”

  “For being there,” I said. “For kicking my ass when I need it, and for always being my best friend.”

  “You’ve talked me down a time or two yourself,” she said.

  “True,” I said. Ralph finished licking my bowl. He looked up at us as if expecting more. “Look out for Sully for me, okay?” I said. “This town is… this town. They can be merciless.”

  “You got it,” she said. Her eyes went wet again, making mine do the same. She reached out to hug me. “Damn it, I’ve never cried this much over a woman.”

  “I’ve never cried this much, period,” I said.

  I couldn’t imagine not having Lanie in my world. Someone I could tell anything. Anything except the one thing I couldn’t voice out loud. The thought that had kept pinging in my mind. That when it came down to it, I wished he’d—

  No. I wasn’t even going to think about it anymore. It was a moot point. Sully didn’t ask. He did what I said I wanted.

  He let me go.

  * * *

  The next morning—as if it wasn’t weird enough not getting ready to go to the office—I laid in bed till daylight, just listening. Listening to the sounds of my house. The thump-thump my air conditioner made every time it cranked on. The clink-clink my icemaker made dropping ice (because I forgot to turn that off). An acorn rolling down my roof. Two blue jays fighting a very territorial squirrel for squatters rights just outside my bedroom window. I’d listened all night, barely sleeping.

  I was leaving this. And totally fucked-up confused about it. It was seriously like the fifth circle of hell, that now that I’d decided on a real departure, I was second-guessing everything and not completely wanting to go. I was fighting the very thing I’d always wanted to do, feeling sad because I had to go. I didn’t have to go anywhere. No one was holding a gun to my head. But as soon as I started thinking like that, the travel genie swooped down and slapped me and said, “Yes, you do!”

  So not cool. All of this was supposed to be exciting and giddy-making, and I wasn’t feeling the giddy. I was feeling stressed that I wasn’t going to remember to turn off the ice maker or that I’d forgotten to tell the woman subletting my office that the outlet by the door didn’t work.

  I got up and made a cup of coffee, emptying the water reservoir afterward. I checked my to-do list for the eightieth time. I went outside to sit on my porch—my very bare porch that never had plants because I didn’t want that level of commitment (and I’d kill them). I wanted to be able to cut and run anytime, even though I never did. I sat in my boring chair that I’d bought years ago instead of the beautiful wooden rocker that I really wanted. I got the boring one so I could easily leave it behind. Looking around, my whole life was about the ability to disconnect.

  That was kind of sad.

  I had designed my entire life to lead up to this moment, so yes—I did have to do it. If I bailed now, not only would I always wonder what if, but everything up till now would have been for nothing.

  Last night—

  I couldn’t dwell on last night. I’d done that for hours, and I had to quit. I told him good-bye. That’s what I had planned to do today, anyway, minus the naked swimming, so I could check that off the list.

  I love you, Sully Hart.

  That hadn’t been on the list.

  Fuck.

  Lanie had warned me not to get lost in him again. Not to let him get under my skin again. But in all honesty, there was no again to it. It had just been on hold, waiting. I’d never felt for Dean the way I did for Sully. I never felt love like that for anyone. It wasn’t possible. Sully already had my heart. Everything and everyone after him was just going through the motions.

  Now, here I was again. Motions. With brand-new updated images to go with them. Sitting in this ugly chair, drinking coffee, trying desperately to pretend I wasn’t scouring the end of the street for signs of a black truck. Because the thought of him rushing over this morning to try to stop me like they do in the movies hadn’t crossed my pathetic mind at all.

  So the question was… how long was I going to sit here and wait and ponder before I got off my ass and did what I’d always planned to do?

  How long, indeed. Enough was enough. I pushed myself up and out of that chair and forced my feet to carry me back inside.

  Forty-five minutes later, I drove away from my life. I won’t say that I didn’t cry a little, or drive by Sully’s street, or make a sweep through the park parking lot to see if his truck was there. I did. And it wasn’t. He wasn’t either place, and that was okay. Because neither was I.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The funny thing about driving without a destination, is driving without a destination. When do you ever do that? For me, never. When I get in my car, it’s to get from point A to point B, so this driving aimlessly with no B in mind was a little surreal.

  In my fantasies about this journey, I always went east or north. I don’t know why, maybe because that was against history. Everyone always went west. “Go west young man” was instilled in us in textbooks. The Beverly Hillbillies loaded up the truck, strapped Granny on top with her rocking chair, and off they went. Lanie even made up going to California because it sounded better than her real life, and then ended up with a job offer there that teased her some more. My own father went there, supposedly.

  So imagine my surprise when, four weeks in, I paid attention to the map I’d thrown in—yes, a real live paper map—and noticed an unexpected trend. I wanted to mark everywhere I went on my adventure. Somehow, unintentionally, while I was rolling merrily along northward, and saw a town or a landmark I wanted to check out, I was slowly migrating west. Currently, I was hovering over a quaint little town in northwest Utah, and had stopped stressing over it. So I’d hit the west coast—most likely Oregon, not California, and see what the Pacific was all about. No big deal. I could then chart a hard course east along all the northern states before winter hit.

  Except that there was no charting in this trip. No plans allowed. Just me and my car and whatever the day wanted.

  Just me and my car.

  Sigh.

  I’d never been one to spend a lot of time on the phone. Wasn’t my thing. Since I’d left Charmed, however, the biggest highlight of my days were the evenings when I’d call Lanie or my mother and catch up. Tell them what I’d seen or done or explain the millions of photos that I’d take and send daily. I couldn’t wait to tell them about the crazy you-had-to-be-there moments that were much more entertaining if you were actually there. Like the man-I-thought-was-a-woman, dressed like a clown in drag on a street in Denver. Or the guy that was hellbent on selling me beets in Oklahoma. Or some of the sunsets in Utah that pictures could never do justice. I wished every time that there was someone to share it with.
/>   I stopped asking about Sully, and they stopped throwing it in there. It hurt to hear about how the build was going, or if Lanie saw him at the bank. And an actual conversation repeated for me just made me imagine the inflections in his voice or how his face looked when he laughed. I missed him possibly more than I had the first time. Maybe because I wasn’t angry this time. Maybe because I’d done the leaving. All I knew was that the moments I didn’t stay busy—that I let my mind drift back to a little cove in Charmed—it was crushing.

  “Hey, J.T.,” I called out to the fry cook at a diner I’d taken a fancy to in this blink-and-you-miss-it town.

  It was a much smaller version of the Blue Banana, and I was the only person there younger than seventy. Possibly eighty. The food was phenomenal, though, and every time I tried a dish I made a note to tell Nick the next time I saw him.

  Whenever that would be.

  “Hey, yourself, Five,” the older man said, not looking up from the waffles he had steaming in a giant waffle maker.

  “Five?”

  “How many mornings you’ve shown up for breakfast,” he said. “Considering the first day you told me you were driving through.”

  True. But it was nice to be somewhere more than a day or so. I missed some cool details if I went too fast. And finding a laundromat was a plus.

  “I might grow an ego if you keep showing up for my food like this.”

  “Your food is worth an ego.” I slid up to the small counter and turned over a clean coffee cup from a stack, as was the custom here. “People would come here from every surrounding state if they knew about you.”

  “And where would I put these so-called hordes of people?” he asked, glancing up and adjusting his backward-facing baseball cap right back to the same position. Short gray hair flashed in the interim. “Out back with the dumpster?”

  “You’d make more money,” I said. “You could expand. Add on.”

  He looked up again and winked. “I’m fine just like I am, Five. I don’t need more money.”

  J.T.’s wife Kat, the diner’s waitress, came in from the back and grabbed a coffee pot.

  “Here for my coffee again?” she asked, smiling