I blinked at him. “Wait…you drove here.”
His grin was huge. “Yep. Big changes in my life, but that’s the most relevant one at the moment. I got a truck, so we can fit all your shit into it.” He glanced at the pile of luggage surrounding Cassie. “Good thing too—looks like you two have a hell of a pile of it.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I guess we do. I came back with more than I left with, and Cassie is bringing her whole life with her.”
He nodded. “How’s your girl doin’?”
I shrugged. “It’s difficult.” I headed toward her, and he stayed beside me. “We can talk more later. She can’t be on her feet for too long, so we need to get off the sidewalk.”
We reached Cassie, who stood with her purse in both hands, eyeing Lucas with something of a mixture of awe, skepticism, and hostility.
“Hi there, Cassandra. My name’s Lucas. I’m a friend of your mother’s.” Lucas stuck out his enormous paw, and Cassie shook it, her tiny, delicate hand lost in his.
“Call me Cassie. Only Mom ever calls me Cassandra, and only then when I’m in trouble.”
He nodded. “Cassie, then. I didn’t want to assume a familiarity, since we’re just meeting. Your mom’s told me a little about you. Pleased to meet you, darlin’.”
Cassie’s eyes narrowed at the term. “Told you a bit about me, has she?”
“Just that you’re a hell of a dancer, and that you had an accident.”
“Iwasa hell of a dancer,” Cassie said. “Not sure what I am, now.” Her voice dripped bitterness.
“Sure as fuck ain’t my place to talk about any of that, but I happen to know from personal experience that things are never as permanently fucked as we tend to convince ourselves they are. Ask your mom about what I come through, sometime.”
“I think that’s your story to tell,” I said.
He shrugged. “Whatever. Ain’t the time for heavy shit. Let’s get you two home.”
“Home.” Cassie sighed, long and deep and confused.
She and I both watched in amazement as Lucas took the two huge matching duffel bags Cassie and I had bought on the Champs-Élysées—both of which were stuffed to bursting and less than half a pound each under the maximum weight limit for checked luggage—and slung them each on one side. He then stuffed a suitcase under each huge arm, clutched the handles of the other two, and set off for the parking lot, easily carrying our luggage as if it weighed nothing. He’d left each of us to bring our carry-ons and purses. We followed him, watching him stride across the parking lot with a bounce in his step.
“You know,” I said to Cassie. “He was in a pretty bad wreck himself. Messed up his leg, needed surgery and therapy.” I indicated him. “You wouldn’t know it, watching him.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, he wasn’t a professional dancer, was he? I’ll heal to the point that you’d never know what happened, but that’s a far cry from being able to dance eight to twelve hours a day, seven days a week like I have for five and a half years.”
“I know, Cass, I know.” I couldn’t quite keep the frustration out of my voice—frustration at how she seemed to be giving up already.
She sensed my irritation, or just heard it, and huffed. “Don’t, okay? It’s been a long day and I’m not in the mood for lectures on persistence or whatever I can see you winding up for.”
I clicked my teeth together on exactly what she’d accused me of being about to say. “Okay. I understand.”
“I’ll get through this, Mom...just, in my own way.”
I nodded. “I know. But I’m your mother, and I—”
“You’re prone to lectures, is what you are. And I’m exhausted.”
I chuckled. “I don’t lecture.”
Lucas, a few feet ahead, turned to not quite look back at us. “You lecture, babe. You gave me a hell of a lecture when we were on that hike—remember?”
Cassie narrowed her eyes me. “Babe? Is there something I need to know?”
“It’s just how he is,” I said under my breath. “It doesn’t mean anything specific. It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking I saw the way you two looked at each other,” Cassie muttered.
