Read Online Luke (A Redemption Romance #1) by Anna Scott - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anna Scott
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friends. Some men were strange that way. I found out months later that he was the first guy she’d dated since college. She had been in a really bad relationship then and had been worried about jumping back into the dating pool.
Dinner was a rushed affair, everyone doing their best to finish up so we could get to the viewing early. Luke and I left first. He helped me up into his Black Ford F250. It was lifted, so wearing a form fitting skirt made it impossible for me to get up there. I used to tease him that he was making up for something with that truck. I wouldn’t be saying that anymore - I’d felt the evidence against my stomach last night, as he kissed me outside my bedroom door - he certainly did not need to compensate.
We made it to the funeral home in plenty of time. There weren’t any visitors yet, so Luke guided me into the room and we sat, waiting for the pastor. Luke’s arm was confidently wrapped around my shoulders, my head lay against his chest and we both sat in quiet reflection before the closed shiny black casket that held my brother. Luke had no doubts about holding me, he knew that he was exactly what I needed.
We stayed like that for a long time; my mind wandering back over my life and memories with Nolan. I was relieved to have Luke’s strong support surrounding me. This was the beginning of a difficult twenty-four hours.
Our friends filed in first, filling the rows just behind us. Hope placed her hand on my shoulder and squeezed. None of us walked up front.
Well-wishers, and friends filed in the room. Walking past the casket; many laid their hand upon its closed lid. There were tears, condolences, and expressions of gratitude for the many things Nolan had done to help them over the years. I wished that he had been here to listen to the wonderful things people said about him. Maybe he could see just how big a part he’d played in so many people’s lives.
Aunt Mary arrived about fifteen minutes after the viewing started. She walked straight up front, ignoring the line of people and everyone around her. She laid both hands on top of the casket holding her only nephew - the son of her beloved sister - lowered her head to rest on the top and wept silently.
The sight of my aunt folded over almost covering Nolan in that way was all I could take; I turned my face into Luke and cried. Luke’s strong muscular arms wrapped me tight in his warmth, and comfort until the tears subsided. Eventually, Mary joined us in the empty seat, next to me clasped my hand and held on. I watched as she straightened her shoulders, and covered herself with an invisible shield of strength. The woman amazed me.
I forced myself to follow Aunt Mary’s lead.
The pastor greeted each of us; talking to Aunt Mary a long time since she’d attended his church for years before her move to Houston. The procession of people who stopped to speak with us seemed to never end, but after just over two hours of hugs, cheek kisses and handshakes - the last of the mourners were gone.
I glanced over at Luke and noticed at least seven shades of lipstick covering his cheek and jaw. Sitting there, in the front row, not ten feet from the body of my brother, I laughed. Aunt Mary squeezed my hand and gave it a little shake as she looked around me to see what was so funny. Her face lightened too, a small smile spread across her face.
“What is so funny, ladies?” Luke’s voice held a hint of bemusement as he looked at the two of us with a raised brow.
“Nothing, just hold still.” I took my hands from both of their grasps and opened my clutch then pulled out the handkerchief. Aunt Mary gasped at the sight of it.
“Mom taught us to embroider with hankies; she did that one and taught your mom and me to do the same stitch. I still have mine.” My aunt’s voice was soft but full of remembered happiness, the joy resonating from a simpler time. My smile was wide, I was pleased to have inadvertently brought her this happy memory today and
Dinner was a rushed affair, everyone doing their best to finish up so we could get to the viewing early. Luke and I left first. He helped me up into his Black Ford F250. It was lifted, so wearing a form fitting skirt made it impossible for me to get up there. I used to tease him that he was making up for something with that truck. I wouldn’t be saying that anymore - I’d felt the evidence against my stomach last night, as he kissed me outside my bedroom door - he certainly did not need to compensate.
We made it to the funeral home in plenty of time. There weren’t any visitors yet, so Luke guided me into the room and we sat, waiting for the pastor. Luke’s arm was confidently wrapped around my shoulders, my head lay against his chest and we both sat in quiet reflection before the closed shiny black casket that held my brother. Luke had no doubts about holding me, he knew that he was exactly what I needed.
We stayed like that for a long time; my mind wandering back over my life and memories with Nolan. I was relieved to have Luke’s strong support surrounding me. This was the beginning of a difficult twenty-four hours.
Our friends filed in first, filling the rows just behind us. Hope placed her hand on my shoulder and squeezed. None of us walked up front.
Well-wishers, and friends filed in the room. Walking past the casket; many laid their hand upon its closed lid. There were tears, condolences, and expressions of gratitude for the many things Nolan had done to help them over the years. I wished that he had been here to listen to the wonderful things people said about him. Maybe he could see just how big a part he’d played in so many people’s lives.
Aunt Mary arrived about fifteen minutes after the viewing started. She walked straight up front, ignoring the line of people and everyone around her. She laid both hands on top of the casket holding her only nephew - the son of her beloved sister - lowered her head to rest on the top and wept silently.
The sight of my aunt folded over almost covering Nolan in that way was all I could take; I turned my face into Luke and cried. Luke’s strong muscular arms wrapped me tight in his warmth, and comfort until the tears subsided. Eventually, Mary joined us in the empty seat, next to me clasped my hand and held on. I watched as she straightened her shoulders, and covered herself with an invisible shield of strength. The woman amazed me.
I forced myself to follow Aunt Mary’s lead.
The pastor greeted each of us; talking to Aunt Mary a long time since she’d attended his church for years before her move to Houston. The procession of people who stopped to speak with us seemed to never end, but after just over two hours of hugs, cheek kisses and handshakes - the last of the mourners were gone.
I glanced over at Luke and noticed at least seven shades of lipstick covering his cheek and jaw. Sitting there, in the front row, not ten feet from the body of my brother, I laughed. Aunt Mary squeezed my hand and gave it a little shake as she looked around me to see what was so funny. Her face lightened too, a small smile spread across her face.
“What is so funny, ladies?” Luke’s voice held a hint of bemusement as he looked at the two of us with a raised brow.
“Nothing, just hold still.” I took my hands from both of their grasps and opened my clutch then pulled out the handkerchief. Aunt Mary gasped at the sight of it.
“Mom taught us to embroider with hankies; she did that one and taught your mom and me to do the same stitch. I still have mine.” My aunt’s voice was soft but full of remembered happiness, the joy resonating from a simpler time. My smile was wide, I was pleased to have inadvertently brought her this happy memory today and
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