Waiting on the Rain by Claudia Connor

Four months later…

Luke walked with Ava on his arm down a floral scented cobblestone street, the scent of fresh baked pastries guiding them. The sun had set and now lights lit the ancient streets, reflecting off the water on lamp posts and draping strings.

Yesterday, she’d become his wife, he’d become her husband, on a centuries old bridge crossing a narrow waterway in Venice. They hadn’t planned it, not exactly, and it wasn’t legally binding, they’d take care of that when they go back to the states, but it had been perfect.

Ava in a white summer dress flowing around her knees, her hair long and loose and fluttering around her cheeks. They’d promised to love, to honor, to remain faithful. They’d exchanged rings they’d found in a little shop on a street they’d only gone down because they’d gotten lost. And just as the sun dropped into the horizon, as a gondolier sang as he floated under them, they’d said I do.

So now they walked, his wife—andZach had been right about the sound of that— on his arm, their bellies stuffed with pasta and prosciutto. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket, slowing his steps as he read the text.

Ava drew to a stop beside him. “What is it?”

“Dallas is home.” He shook his head almost not believing it.

“Wow. Is that all he said?”

“Yeah. That’s all Zach said.” But it sounded like there was a load of words behind the simple statement.

“Do you need to call him?”

Luke thought a minute and started walking again. “I’ll call him later. Right now I promised my wife a chocolate croissant and that’s what she’s going to get.”

Ava got her croissant,Luke a cannoli, and they shared a cappuccino as they walked into an open piazza. She heard slow, moaning notes of a lone violin, heard people nearby speaking in English, French, and Italian. City sounds without the cars.

As they neared the violin, Ava felt the stone under her feet change to grass. Luke slowed his steps.

“Dance with me.”

“Now? Here?”

“Why not?”

Laughing she went into his arms, even kicked off her sandals. The grass was cool under her bare feet and Luke’s hand was warm wrapped around hers, holding it over his heart. His other hand moved slowly up and down her back. “It all started with a dance,” she said.

“Funny, I thought it started with cookies.” He dipped his head, kissed her neck. “You in this dress is making me crazy.”

“It’s just a sundress.”

“It’s a sundress that needs to come off.” He nipped her ear.

“Don’t rush me,” she said, smiling. “It’s our last night.” But she sifted her fingers through the hair at his neck, knowing it made him crazy.

“You know it’s damn sexy listening to you speak in Italian. We’re going to have to figure out a way to continue that at home.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

“Are you sorry you won’t be living here?”

“Not even a little.” She lifted her face to his. “And Italy would have been so much less without you. You’ve made me see it.” There was sultry and romantic music, food, scents, and Luke touching her, always touching her. Her hand, her face, skimming his fingers through her hair. “But I’ll also be happy to be home. I’m sure Night Rider misses you.”

Luke lifted her hand to his face, laid her palm over his smile then kissed her fingers. He gathered her close again, resting his chin on the top of her head.

There would be a dinner with her family when they returned. Thankfully her parents hadn’t been too disappointed at the elopement news. The impending birth of her nephew helped. She imagined there would be a Walker dinner to celebrate the return of Dallas. She knew Luke was anxious about Dallas and his dark years of working undercover, but also knew Luke would do whatever it took to help him through it.

The cabin was finished and Luke had added on a room which he was sure would become a nursery. They hadn’t been trying long, but it was a thrilling thought. Four other cabins that would house campers were nearly complete about fifty yards away. They’d talked about moving into town, or maybe hiring a builder to build something bigger on the farm, but for now they were content.

She helped Hannah and volunteered as an interpreter at the hospital. And she had a garden. She and Luke walked and rode. Sat on the porch and sometimes on the swing. Sometimes in the moonlight, sometimes in the sunlight, either way Luke painted a picture, a feeling, in her mind. And if there was rain, she knew and she painted her own.

She knew everything she needed to know. Her heart and his. Sometimes there was light, sometimes darkness, and then sometimes, if you were lucky, you got rain.

Turnthe page to read an excerpt from WORTH THE WAIT