“Lucky, I’m sorry I ended things the way I did, without even talking to you—that was wrong.” She let out a sigh, sad about how she’d handled it. “But what it comes down to is this. A person’s life, their history, makes them who they are. And . . . you and I are just too different to be together.”
His voice came out soft but sure. “I made a mistake, Tessa. You’re basing our whole relationship on one bad choice. And I get why it upset you so much—it upsets
me
now, too. But I never got to tell you what happened that night. I never got to tell you that when it came down to it, I couldn’t do it. Because you were right—I’m not that guy anymore.”
He lowered his voice even further then, to a whisper, probably because her mother was nearby. “I couldn’t pull that trigger, babe. And I almost got killed because of it, and I ended up drawing my brother into it in a way I never wanted to—but I still couldn’t do it. See, it turns out I’ve changed even more than I knew. Maybe it’s about wanting to be a man my son can be proud of. Or maybe it’s about wanting to be good enough for
you
, deserving of you. Or maybe it’s just about coming home and finding parts of . . . of the guy I could have been if I’d never left. But
whatever
the reason—and even though I’ve had my fair share of doubts since you left me—I know I
am
the man you want me to be, Tessa.”
Tears welled behind Tessa’s eyes and she still didn’t know how to feel.
This
sounded like the Lucky she’d come to know and love. His words began to fill up that dark hole inside her with a fresh ray of light—and hope. Was it possible her faith in him hadn’t been misplaced, after all? “But . . .” she began around the lump in her throat, “how can I know for sure? I can’t see inside you, Lucky. I once thought I could, but I was wrong. So how can I be sure all the dark parts of you are completely gone, for good?”
Just then, the front door opened, and Tessa’s mother leaned out. She wore a strange expression Tessa couldn’t read and said, “I don’t mean to interrupt, but Tessa, maybe you should come inside and see this.”
“See what?” What could be so important right
now
, when she was having such a crucial talk?
“Just come in, honey,” her mom said.
So she let out a sigh, then went into the cabin. And then she understood what was so important. Her living room had been transformed.
The room bloomed with daisies—vases of them sat everywhere: on the mantel, on her bookshelves, on the end tables and coffee table—it was like summertime had come indoors. And where there weren’t daisies, there were words—wonderful, inspiring, strengthening words, which Lucky had clearly found in her little journal—they’d been written out on banners in bright colors and seemed to wallpaper the room:
Think of all the beauty that’s still left in and around you and be happy.
Anne Frank
If God sends us on strong paths, we are provided strong shoes.
Corrie ten Boom
Keep your face always toward the sunshine—and shadows will fall behind you.
Walt Whitman
And, of course, the one she fell back on so often:
Just keep swimming.
Dory, Finding Nemo
And then came the one clearly inspired by Ellen, proving he’d been paying attention when they’d watched her show together:
Laugh. Dance. Tessa
It all left her speechless, almost overwhelmed. That Lucky had done this for her—that he’d known how much joy and comfort it would bring her, that he’d gone to all this trouble—
amazed
her. And began to make her think that maybe it
was
true—maybe he really
was
the man she’d believed in so fervently.
She had yet to utter a word when she heard a soft
meow
come from somewhere—and turned to Lucky, who’d followed her inside. “What’s that?”
He glanced over his shoulder toward the closed bathroom door. “Oh, I put the cat in the bathroom—I was afraid she’d tear up the flowers. I didn’t think through that part very well.”
“Huh?” she said, confused.
“I got the little bookstore cat from Amy for you.”
And she was touched, but . . . “Lucky, you know I’m not sure I can take care of a cat.”
Yet he just shook his head. “
I’ll
take care of her. She makes you happy, she makes you smile—that’s all that matters.”
Tessa simply stood there gaping at him, this man who . . . almost seemed to know her needs better than she did right now. Which maybe meant she should try to trust him. Again.
Gazing down into her eyes, Lucky took her hands in his, and his voice came low. “Tessa, you gotta have a little faith in me now, faith in
us
. You gotta believe you were right—I’m not that guy anymore. Now I’m the guy you made me into. I’m a way better man than I was the day I met you, babe. And I plan on staying that way. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m worthy of you.”
Tessa’s heart fluttered in her chest. “I think you just did,” she whispered up to him.
Then watched his warm brown eyes change, almost seeming to deepen in color. “I did?”
She nodded. “I love you, too, Lucky. I’ve just been . . . so afraid.”
He lifted a hand, cupped her cheek. “I know, babe. And I’m so, so sorry. I won’t make you afraid ever again—I promise.”
And Tessa believed him. She prayed she wasn’t being naïve, but he was right—sometimes you had to take things on faith. And right now, she trusted in everything he was telling her, every promise he was making. He’d given her all he had to give in this moment, and it was enough.
“I’m, uh, gonna take off,” her mom said then, from a few feet behind them—almost startling Tessa. Crap, she’d kind of forgotten she was there again.
So she moved to give her mother a quick hug and a goodbye, and on the way out the door, her mom said, “I’m glad you have Lucky to take care of you. Be smart and let him.”
When the door closed behind her and Tessa turned back to her big brawny biker, he asked, “Are you gonna?”
Again, she just nodded.
And the look that came over his face reminded her of the very first time she’d seen him, how beautiful she’d thought his eyes were, how soft they’d seemed compared to the rest of him. They were that way now.
“What can I do?” he asked. “To start taking care of you?”
“Maybe you could bring Brontë to me,” she said. And when he looked puzzled, she smiled and explained, “The cat.”
“Oh—sure thing.”
And as he walked to the bathroom to retrieve her, Tessa lay down on the couch, still tired, and when he returned with Brontë in one large hand, and his eyes locked on hers, she said, “Will you lie down with me? I want to just lie here and look at the room. And snuggle with you and my new kitty.”
“You got it, babe,” he said with a small grin, then passed her the cat before stretching out alongside her.
When Lucky closed his arms gently around her, it felt like coming home. And that was the
real
,
true
moment when she knew this was right. She nuzzled against him, took in the happy flowers all around them, and knew she was back where she was meant to be. But she didn’t get to look at the daisies for very long because she found herself kissing him then, long and sweet and as intense as any kiss they’d ever shared. And then she was telling him, “I’m sorry I got scared, Lucky. I should have waited, I should have known, I should have—”
That’s when Lucky pressed one finger to her lips to quiet her and said, “Just tell me one thing. Do you believe in me again, Tessa?”
She nodded profusely. “With all my heart.”
“That’s all I need to know.”
. . . and I am yours, and you are mine.
Charlotte Brontë,
Jane Eyre
S
ummer had turned to autumn and the woods along Whisper Falls billowed with vibrant reds, oranges, and golds that seemed to shimmer in the sun. Wrapped in warm clothing, Tessa and Lucky walked quietly along the stream, holding hands and exchanging occasional kisses.
Since June, more than just the seasons had changed.
Lucky’s new workspace had long since been finished and business was booming, and now that word of Tessa’s interior decorating prowess had finally gotten out in the community, she had plenty of jobs coming in, as well.
Brontë had settled into her new home, and Tessa was thankful Lucky had made the bold move of adopting the cat for her. And though he’d never admit it, he seemed just as attached to Brontë now as she was.
For her birthday last month, Lucky had surprised Tessa by taking her skydiving. Although, by that time, she’d pretty much forgotten all about the idea and had been much more frightened than she’d originally expected. But Lucky reminded her how brave he thought she was, and they did it together, and it had turned out to be just as exhilarating as she’d originally anticipated. Again, as always, Lucky was helping her grab onto life and live it to the fullest.
And he kept life just as exciting in the bedroom, too—and occasionally out here in the woods, as well.
“Let’s see if the whispering trick still works,” Lucky said as they reached the top of the falls. “But this time,
you
go across to the other side.”
Tessa glanced downstream to the crossing point, and since the water was low right now, decided to go for it without making a big deal of it. “All right.”
“Where exactly did you stand the last time we did this?” Lucky asked, and she positioned him where she thought she’d been.
Then she made her way up the creek, soon stepping across the rocks that led to the other bank. Once she reached the spot opposite him, she said, “Okay, I’m ready. Start whispering.”
From across the falls, Lucky gave her a sexy smile, and then she heard his whisper in her ear as clearly as if he’d been standing right next to her. “Will you marry me, hot stuff?”
Her gaze widened on him as the blood drained from her face. But then she found her voice and screamed out, “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” And then added, “But I could kill you for asking me when you’re so far away!”
He just grinned. “Come back across, babe, and I’ll show you how happy you just made me.”
And as Tessa did just that, careful not to trip or slip even as she rushed, anxious to be in her big, bad biker’s arms, she knew with certainty there was no place on earth she belonged more. Not in the city. Not having a sophisticated interior design career. Nowhere. The time for that part of her life had come and gone, and now she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Laughing. Dancing. And surrounded by love.
B
ooks are not
written in a vacuum, and I rely heavily on feedback from a couple of people
whose opinions I trust enormously. So huge thanks to Renee Norris for her
insightful critique of the entire book (and who went above and beyond, providing
this even when she was sick so I could meet my deadline). And huge thanks as
well to Lindsey Faber for her painstaking help over the course of two long
evenings during which we mapped out all the logistics for the action-based
scenes toward the end of the book. Not to mention that she tolerates all the
general plot and character stuff I bombard her with on a regular basis. I count
myself very fortunate to have both of them in my life.
Additional heartfelt thanks go to Jill Purinton,
Bob Frost, and Jane Ballard for their help in learning about motorcycles and
what’s cool in the biker world. Thanks, too, to Michelle Combs for giving me the
lowdown on getting a tattoo. And thanks to the Faber family for their help
narrowing down the list of names for my fictional biker gang. By the way, I’ve
done my best to confirm that no such gang with the name I’m using exists, but if
I’m wrong, it’s totally coincidental—promise!
And lastly, my sincere appreciation to all the good
people at Avon Books and the Rotrosen Agency for all the great stuff they do for
me. I’m blessed to have you guys in my corner.
T
ONI
B
LAKE
’s lifelong love of writing began when she won
an essay contest in the fifth grade. Soon after, she penned her first
novel—nineteen notebook pages long. Since then, Toni has become a
multi-published, RITA®-nominated author of contemporary romance novels that are
both sexy and heartwarming. Toni lives with her husband in the Midwest and, when
not writing, she enjoys traveling, quilting, and scrapbooking.
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Whisper Falls
Sugar Creek
One Reckless Summer
Letters to a Secret Lover
Tempt Me Tonight
Swept Away
This book is a work of fiction. The
characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and
are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
WHISPER FALLS
.
Copyright © 2011 by Toni Herzog. All rights reserved under International and
Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have
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without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition January 2011 ISBN:
9780062036919
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