The Thunderbolt - Lori Wilde Page 0,33
best of the best. If you miss out on this, you’ll kick yourself.”
“First of all, the chances are slim that they’ll find a match for Mr. Marshall this weekend, but if I do get a text, we can drive to the airport in Waco then fly to Houston. I can come back for your car later.”
“That’s really nice of you,” she said. “But something tells me Great-Gramma is going to be just fine. We should leave now.”
“You never can tell with a woman of her age.”
“I already feel guilty enough forcing you to drive me here over a false alarm.”
“You didn’t force me to do anything, Lacy. I’m here because I want to be here.”
Oh, Lord, he was saying all the right things. She looked into his eyes and melted. He was a good person. That didn’t make him her perfect mate.
“Bennett, I think it’s best if we return to Houston. That is, if you feel up to the driving without having had any sleep.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve only been up twenty-four hours. That’s nothing. When I was an intern, we worked thirty-six-hour shifts, and plenty of times we weren’t able to grab a nap. I can manage.”
Lacy nodded. “Then let’s tell everyone goodbye and hit the road.”
She hobbled inside the bedroom to inform Great-Gramma they were leaving.
“You’ve got your heart set on this?” Great-Gramma asked.
“I refuse to force anything between Bennett and me,” Lacy told her.
“You’re a stubborn one, drahy. You take after your old great-granny.”
Lacy leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I love you, and I appreciate you trying to help. But I can’t keep lying to him. If he wants me for me, fine. If not...” It took everything she could muster to shrug nonchalantly. “Such is life.”
“Could you send your grandmother Nony in here before you go?”
“Sure.”
Lacy bid her great-grandmother farewell and went to where Bennett waited. Together they went down to talk to the rest of the family seated around the breakfast table. Lacy gave Grandmother Nony Great-Gramma’s message, then proceeded to tell everyone else goodbye.
“Stay and eat breakfast,” her mother encouraged.
Lacy shook her head. It was too tempting to stay. Too tempting to eat and sleep and to allow her family to run her life. She’d been doing it for twenty-seven years. It was way past time to walk her own path.
“Bennett, talk some sense into her.” Lacy’s mother turned to him for help.
He raised his palms and laughed. “Hey, I’m only the chauffeur.”
“We really gotta go, Mom,” Lacy said. “I’m sure Great-Gramma is going to be fine. She probably had a bad case of indigestion. You guys have fun at the farm expo.”
After many hugs and goodbyes, they finally broke away. On the way to the car, Bennett walked beside Lacy on her crutches, opened the passenger side door for her, then helped her slide inside.
Feeling wrung out and discouraged but with an unexplained urgency pushing her toward Houston, Lacy leaned against the headrest and sighed deeply. She needed to get to her apartment, be by herself to sort out her tumultuous emotions.
Bennett got behind the wheel, and it took everything she had to keep from telling him to floor it. He attempted to start the car.
Dead silence.
He tried again.
Nothing.
He looked at her. “How old is your battery?”
“Bought it about six months ago.”
“That’s probably not it, then.” Bennett stroked his jaw with a thumb and forefinger. “Unfortunately, I don’t know much about cars.”
She was about as lucky as a three-legged, one-eyed, bobbed-tail dog. She’d wanted nothing more than to escape the cloying bosom of her well-meaning but interfering family, and here she was stuck right in the middle of them.
Car trouble, of all things.
“Breakfast and a nap are beginning to look very appealing,” Bennett said.
“Yes.” Lacy sighed. Too appealing.
“Besides, if we stay a little longer, we can make sure your great-grandmother really is doing okay.”
Lacy bit her tongue to keep from telling him that sweet little old lady was lying like a politician and faking her chest pains. If Lacy told him that, then she’d have to reveal why.
“Dylan can have a look at your car when he gets home from the expo. I’m sure it’s nothing he can’t handle,” Geneva Calder told her daughter as she leaned between Bennett’s and Lacy’s chairs and raked a pile of fluffy scrambled eggs onto their plates.
Blue china plates. Wedgwood. Bennett knew because Nanna had once owned a set. Those blue china plates brought back a lot of fond memories.
He eyed the meal spread before them.