Page 38 of The Shift Between Us (Covewood #2)

We all agree, even though the competitive side of me wants to do the opposite. His nurse wheels him around the table so he can see all the houses. He makes sure to compliment each house on something that he likes until he finally stops beside Luke and me.

Luke is quiet, keeping his eyes locked onto our gingerbread house and not on his dad. Davis gives me a weak smile before he examines our house. “You have a very talented girlfriend, Luke.”

“How do you know I didn’t help?” Luke says, finally looking up at Davis.

“I never said you didn’t,” Davis defends himself, although Luke’s words weren’t harsh.

“I’ve, uh… I’ve been following Olivia’s social media for some time now.

Lauren here helped me set up my social media page.

I searched for you, wanting to see how you were doing, but couldn’t find you.

I was able to find Olivia’s account and see bits and pieces of you that she’s shared on there. ”

I think back to if I’ve ever seen Davis’ name appear on my follower notifications, but nothing comes to mind. Luke’s face falls, clearly shocked that his dad has tried to search for him, and his grip loosens on my leg.

“As a cop, having social media does more harm than good, so I don’t have any.”

Davis nods in understanding. “I used to want you to follow in my footsteps, hoping it could help us understand each other better. The day I found out that you became a cop, I couldn’t have been prouder of you.

It took me some time to acknowledge that you’re better off becoming the complete opposite of me. ”

Luke looks down at the floor, sucking in a deep breath, like those words were a blow to the gut.

I want to help him, take away this burden that he’s constantly carrying with him, but the only thing I can do is be here for him.

I place my hand on top of his, lacing our fingers together, giving him a gentle squeeze.

The old Luke, the one that was created from the effects of Davis’ bad decisions, would have caused a scene. He would have shouted at his father or stormed off, but because Luke has spent years working on himself, fighting hard to let that side of himself go, he does the opposite.

It’s right here, in this moment, that I know, deep down, Luke still cares for his dad. Despite all their hardships and painful memories together, Luke will always care for him in some way.

“I’m proud of you, son,” Davis adds. There’s an edge to his voice that sounds almost like hurt, and it rocks me to my core. Everyone in the room seems to suck in a breath of air at the same time, feeling the same effects.

Love seeks peace, understanding, acceptance. Everything that is being brought to life before us through Luke’s reactions. He returns his gaze to Davis, giving him a small nod, and reaches out to shake his hand. A sign of a truce between them.

“Thanks,” Luke says, keeping his other hand planted on mine, and his thumb begins to rub the top of my hand, a silent thank you to me that travels to my heart. “We’ll talk later,” Luke tells him.

Davis’ dark brows raise with shock, and a few seconds pass before he replies with a wobbly smile, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

His nurse continues to roll Davis around the table, allowing him to finish judging each gingerbread house.

Luke looks at me, and everything in me wants to make the divot between his brows disappear, to erase the tension in his shoulders, but then his full lips quirk at the edges, and his eyes soften.

I sit there, frozen in his lap, as he reaches up to wipe away my tears I didn’t realize were there.

I realize right then that I don’t want to pretend anymore, especially when I lean in and press a kiss onto Luke’s cheek.

I hover for a moment, feeling the urge to move my lips a little to the right so they would land onto his, but I’m not quite ready for that yet.

We started this whole charade as a mistake, but we both agreed that it could be used as a fun distraction for him this weekend.

Something that could help take the pressure off him.

Instead, it’s somehow unlocked all the hidden feelings I’ve worked so hard to bury these last eleven years.

The Luke from my past, the Luke that hurt me, isn't the Luke I just watched shake his father's hand.

I’ve been told that there’s a time for birth, death, and resurrection.

The old Luke was born from the destruction in his home life.

Then that version of him died the day he decided to seek help from Jesus and worked hard to transform his life.

And just now, when Luke shook his father’s hand, he was resurrected into someone new.

I know there’s no guarantee that things would work out between us if we decided to get rid of that pesky friend-zone and actually explore where we could go from here.

I’m terrified that I’m still too shattered to handle being rejected by him again, to be rejected by someone who’s such a huge and important part of my life. Is it worth the risk?

Are we worth the risk?

God, help me know what to do here. I can’t make this decision on my own. Let whatever is in your will be done.

Anticipation pulses beneath my skin. I can feel my heart beating fast in my throat as I reach out and link our hands together, and a rush of air seeps out of him. I have to be honest with myself that whatever is happening between us…I don’t want it to stop.

His eyes settle on mine, a tenderness shining within them, before they follow the movement of my lips as they tilt into a smile.

My stomach does one of those swooshing motions because I know he's thinking about kissing me.

I can see it in the way he holds my gaze for a long moment, in how the muscle in his jaw twitches, and when his gaze drops back down to my lips.

I shake my head, opening my mouth to tell him not yet, but no sound comes out. It doesn’t need to. Luke smiles. Not a wide, bright smile but a soft and tender one.

“Let’s see if we’re going to win, Cupcake.”

I like the sound of Luke’s voice scraping as he calls me Cupcake, like a finger running softly down my spine. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me toward his chest, a movement that’s so simple and easy that it shouldn’t light up every cell in my body, but it does.

His gaze darts past my head to where I expect Davis to be seated and ready to announce the winner, but I no longer care about winning because, in a way, it feels like I’ve already won. That recognition is enough to lift the tension from my shoulders.

Davis announces that the winner is Emma and her family. Everyone claps and cheers for her as she beams proudly. She leans over, taking a bite out of her house, and we all laugh. Luke places his chin onto my shoulder, his lips close to my ear as he asks me if I’m okay that we lost.

“Yeah, I’m happy Emma won.”

“Really?” he questions, his breath brushing against the fine hairs at the base of my neck.

Luke moves to stand from the chair and pulls me up with him.

He places a hand onto the space between my hip and waist, his large fingers flexing on the thick material of my sweater, as he helps my feet hit the ground.

He twists me around so I can face him, searching for a lie within my expression, but there is none to be found. I smile, trying to show him how unaffected I am. Before I have time to react, he reaches up and brushes something cold and wet onto the tip of my nose.

I suck in a breath, dropping my jaw, and reach up to wipe what appears to be a clump of icing off my nose. I jump up to attack him, wiping the icing onto his cheek, giggling as he tries to get me a second time.

“Luke!” I squeal, swatting at him as he tries to smear more onto my cheek, but it lands on my lips. He laughs and rubs his thumb against my lips, and heat pools in my stomach when I watch him lick the icing off his thumb.

Attempting to ignore what that does to me, I lick my lips and feel my stomach growl. I realize that I haven’t eaten much today and place a hand onto my abdomen.

“We need to get you something to eat before you start getting hangry.”

Before long, the kitchen smells of tangy tomato sauce, sautéing meat, and spices. I help Luke’s grandmother stir the food and make plates for the family. Everyone in the house chows down, resulting in a request for naps before we head outside to enjoy the neighborhood Christmas festival.

We make our way into the bedroom, and we both crash onto the bed, our bellies full, but our hearts are even fuller from the events of today. We stay silent for a moment until his knuckles slowly glide down the length of my spine, sending shivers throughout every nerve in my body.

He continues to rub my back, and I really love having all of Luke’s focus and attention these past few days. I don’t know if, in the future, I can settle for anything less than what I’ve gained from him these past few days. Maybe I won’t have to.

Something has been slowly erasing away the line we’ve kept between us all these years, and as my eyes close and fall away into sleep, I make a decision to explore what it might be like to step over that line.