Loving Lucas Page 3
“You’d better listen to him,” Marie adds.
Connor is a smug bastard and doesn’t seem to care about anything but his own pride, but he’s underestimated my determination. He blocks our way. “Consider it payment for back rent.”
“Rent?” Karlie pipes in. “I’ve never…”
“Now you have.”
“Connor.” Karlie advances on him. “That’s all I have in the world.”
“You had me.”
“No,” she shoots back. “I didn’t.”
I’ll let this play out for a few more minutes; she may need to express herself a little more to find closure.
“I offered you a second chance, Karlie.”
“Only after you knocked me down and nearly broke my foot.”
“What?” I clutch Karlie’s arm and drag her back a few feet. She spins around, her shoulders sagging. “He physically assaulted you?”
“Please,” she whispers. “Don’t make me relive it.”
Rage swells inside me. It has nothing to do with the overwhelming attraction I feel for her. I fist my hands at my sides. “All right,” I concede against my better judgment.
She nods, then faces the asshole again. “The trailer is open, Connor. Please grab my equipment bag and let us get out of here without any trouble.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “And if I don’t?” he slurs.
“I’ll break your face.” Someone touches me from behind and I gaze over my shoulder, ready to land a punch. It’s Brandon. I take a deep breath.
“He’s posturing,” he says to me.
I nod and concentrate on Karlie again. She tries to walk around Connor, but he snatches her arm, squeezing so hard she yelps. Son of a bitch…I grab his T-shirt, giving him a violent shake. I notice he reeks of pot and alcohol, and then our eyes meet. “Touch her again…”
“Gonna call the cops?” he spits.
Marie takes up a position next to me. “He is a cop, jackass.” She jabs him in the chest with two fingers. “Now maybe you’ll listen.”
Connor goes limp in my grasp and the music stops—everyone freezes.
A smile tics at the corners of my mouth. Karlie has a formidable friend. “Grab your bike, Karlie.”
I watch as she drags her feet, disappears inside the enclosed trailer, comes out with a large bag draped over her left shoulder, then quickly shifts her RM-Z250 to neutral and starts wheeling it away. Brandon takes her bag for her, then gestures with his head, indicating we all move on.
Time to go.
I tug Connor closer, so only he can hear me. “If you ever touch Karlie again, I’ll forget I wear a badge.” Then I give him a shove and he stumbles backward, catching himself on a nearby table.
“Can you believe that asshole?” Marie asks, trying to keep pace with me.
I stop and look down at her. “I deal with his type every day. I just can’t believe she’s stayed with him this long.”
“Karlie doesn’t have any family.”
“I know.”
“She told you?” She appears shocked.
“Yeah.”
“That’s why she put up with Connor and she bonded with his mother, really liked her. They lived in the same house. But once he started hitting her…”
I close my eyes, helpless against the images that flash through my mind. “How long?”
“Months now.”
“Goddamnit.”
“Hey.” Marie tugs on my sleeve.
I open my eyes.
“Why do you care, popo? You don’t even know her.”
Good question. Instinct tells me to separate myself from this situation immediately. I’ve done everything I can to assure Karlie’s safety. She’s not alone and has a place to go. But there’s something about her…All I know is that every time I envision her living with Connor, my heart crashes. “Hell if I know.”
Marie studies me for a minute, then laughs. “You got it hard.”
“Nice play on words.”
That earns me an arm slap. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Can’t,” I admit. “That’s where it always is.”
“Hungry?”
I thought she’d never ask. “Starving.”
“Come on.” She takes my arm. “Let’s grab some burgers.”
Chapter 4
Marie likes to park her RV close to the track. There’s a streetlight twenty yards away, but it’s cozier on this side of the park, less congested. And now my usually overprotective best friend is acting like a stranger, clearly impressed with Lucas. Not only did she just serve him a plate of food, now she’s seated next to him at the picnic table. What are they talking about? Every few seconds she looks back at me. I don’t even think she realizes it, which clues me in to what the topic of conversation is. Me. The last thing I need is for Marie to interrogate him or try to set us up. She’s already pointed out three or four guys at school she thinks I’d be compatible with. Of course I refused every time, honoring my commitment to Connor. Some good it did—I’m alone again.
Meanwhile, Brandon and I are busy flipping burgers and toasting buns on the hibachi grill. I refuse to eat regular ground beef, so my buffalo patties get a special corner.
“Sure you don’t want your own spatula?” Brandon jibes. “Wouldn’t want to cross-contaminate your meat.”
I give him a little push. “Funny.”
He shrugs. “Glad you’re safe.”
“Thanks for everything,” I say. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Marie.”
“Well, we’ve both known for a long time the sooner you got away from Connor, the better.”
“It feels so strange.”
“What?”
“I’m single.”
Brandon ogles Lucas. “Not for long.”
“Hah!” I sigh heavily, following his gaze. Lucas’s back is facing us. I’m fascinated by his expansive shoulders and narrow waist. “I’m never getting involved again. Life of a nun for me.”
Brandon scoops the burgers and buns onto a platter and chuckles. “Isn’t that the way you’ve been living already?”
“Don’t go there, Brandon.” Sometimes I should just keep my big mouth shut. Who else am I going to discuss my life with? Because Connor smokes so much pot and drinks heavily, he has erectile dysfunction. Thirty years old and he pops Viagra like candy. Of course it doesn’t work when he’s plastered. So we haven’t had normal sex in five months. “Besides, what I don’t know can’t hurt me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He starts for the picnic table and I follow. “You’ve never had an orgasm, Karlie. And God knows that bastard didn’t deserve to be your first lover.”
Holy shit. The whole world just overheard my pathetic sexual history. Marie eyeballs me sympathetically and Lucas rotates on the bench. His eyebrows arch in question. I cover my face with both hands, pretty sure I should leave or at least spontaneously combust.
“Shake it off, Karlie,” Marie suggests. “Get over here before your burger gets cold.”
I part my fingers so I can see her. My appetite just disappeared with my will to live. Brandon sets the platter on the table and sits next to Marie, who playfully slaps his arm.
“Ass wipe,” she says.
“I apologize.” Brandon gazes at me. “It’s not your fault.”
Lucas pats the empty space next to him. “I’m waiting for you.”
I lower my hands, studying him through narrowed eyes. He’s not going to say anything, he’s too sweet, but I know what he’s thinking…that I’m a freak. I reluctantly edge closer. “Sure you want me to sit next to you?”
“I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”
It takes me a minute or two to collect myself enough to accept his invitation. After I do, I avoid his eyes, grab a paper plate, and make a fuss over my burger, adding lettuce, pickles, ketchup, cucumber, mustard, and mayonnaise. Maybe I should eat a bunch of onions so Lucas will stay away from me. I take a generous bite, my body still tingling with embarrassm
ent.
“Lucas has a promising proposition,” Marie announces.
I drop my food on the plate and swallow. “Really?”
“That’s what we’ve been discussing over here,” she says.
“And?” I still refuse to look at Lucas.
“Might help if you talk to him directly,” Marie says sarcastically.
If things continue the way they’ve been going tonight, I’ll end up in the psych ward. Finally, I brave his dark gaze. “Yes?”
His seductive expression is pure torment. My eyes wander to that delectable mouth again. I wonder what he tastes like. Stop it, I chastise myself. Then he licks his lips and I nearly come undone. Did he do that on purpose? I’m clearly obsessed, and if I were him, I’d milk it. He doesn’t say anything, but smirks. Lucas Lafontaine is dangerous, and I’m headed for a physical meltdown if I don’t watch out. My poor pleasure-deprived body, like Brandon said, but what I don’t know can hurt me. Supercop knows it.
“If you’re uncomfortable, Karlie…”
“Please.” I wave him off, playing it cool. “What makes you say that?”
He leans close. “Might have something to do with your hands.”
I look down. Great, I’m shaking. I’ve been through a lot tonight, but having a distraction like Lucas makes it easier to bury my pain. “I’m chilly.”
He generously accepts my ridiculous excuse. “I just moved here a month ago,” he starts. “I bought a house on Padre Island, a pretty big one. Since you don’t want to live with Marie and Brandon, I’d like to offer you a place to stay.”
As in cohabitate? I swallow, hard. “I don’t…” My words trail off. I’m too shocked to speak. My eyes flick to Marie, who nods, then winks at me.
“Room and board in trade for cooking and cleaning,” he clarifies immediately.
I force out a long breath. “That’s a generous offer.”
“No strings,” he assures me.
I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse—strings might be fun. Or cataclysmic. Talk about a pivotal moment. What the hell happened tonight? I reclaimed my freedom, became homeless, and now I have a choice of places to live. It’s always been about not having a roof over my head. As soon as I turned eighteen, I was kicked out of my foster home. No one prepared me for the next step. I received five hundred dollars cash and a one-week voucher for a shitty hotel room on Leopard Street—a seedy part of town. I take a swig of water.
“How much money did you swipe from the RV?” I ask Marie.
She digs in her pocket and drops a wad of cash on the table. “Fifteen hundred.”
I run calculations in my head. An efficiency apartment in her complex is five hundred dollars a month plus electric. I could pay three months’ rent in advance, but I’d have nothing left. And living with Brandon and Marie isn’t an option—they’re contemplating marriage. And no matter how tight they are, having an extra body in their household would only put unnecessary stress on their relationship. I can’t do that to them.
Breathing steadily, I return my attention to Lucas. “I accept.”
“Can you cook?” he asks cockily.
“Gourmet,” Marie answers for me.
“Know how to work a mop?”
I giggle. “You might have to teach me.”
Then his cell rings, breaking the spell. “Excuse me.” Lucas slides off the bench, walking a few feet away.
“Talk about fate.” Marie reaches across the table and pats my hand. “All that’s missing is the white horse.”
“It’s not like that.”
“You keep thinking that way, Karlie.”
“It’s not.” I’m in complete denial; hormones don’t dictate my fate. And Lord knows how often I’ve denied my urges. “There are cobwebs down there,” I remind her.
“I’m sure Lucas knows how to clear those out.”
She’s shameless, and I’m an emotional coward. “I can’t jump into another relationship, Marie. Even if I wanted to, the only man…”
“That piece of shit isn’t a man.” I’m quickly cut off by Brandon. “Someone needs to show you real tenderness. And you should let him.”
My mind is swirling. I really can’t take another bite of food. “When the right guy comes along, I’ll know it.” As if on cue, Lucas returns. I frown at Marie—she’s beaming, probably ready to make me eat my own words.
“You were saying?”
“Remind me to slap you the next time we’re alone,” I say. “Everything okay?” I ask, focusing on Lucas.
“Something came up,” he says. “I need to go. I wouldn’t worry about Connor—he’s shit-faced and knows I’m a cop now. Marie has my phone number and address. If anything happens tonight, call me. Otherwise, contact me tomorrow afternoon and we’ll get you moved in.”
“Sure.” I’m actually disappointed he’s leaving. “What about my bike? Brandon’s trailer can’t accommodate three.”
“I can take it now,” Lucas offers.
“Where’s your rig?” Brandon asks.
“A hundred yards north.” Lucas points. “In the nosebleed section.”
“Why didn’t you park closer?” Marie asks.
“I prefer keeping a little distance until I get to know everyone.” Must be a cop thing.
Brandon stands. “I’ll help you load her stuff.”
Lucas extends his hand to me. “I enjoyed meeting you, Karlie.”
For the second time, our hands touch, and a chill spirals up my spine. Did I just see sparks, or is that my overactive imagination?
“You made the right choice,” Marie says after they leave.
“I can make it on my own.”
“With what? Your brains? That doesn’t pay rent.”
“How about my body?” I tease.
She stretches over the table and rests the back of her hand against my forehead. “Feverish?”
“You’re avoiding the subject.”
She sits back down. “Are you thinking about stripping again?”
It’s not beyond the realm of possibility. A couple of girls at school work weekends and make enough money to sustain a comfortable lifestyle. “Why not? Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“But you have options. And once you cross that line, you can’t turn back.” She takes a swig of beer. “Just give the arrangement a try—if it doesn’t work, I’ll drive you to the Devil’s Den myself.”
Chapter 5
I elected to sleep in the RV in Marie’s apartment complex parking lot. She tried to talk me out of it, but I refused. Although it’s not as posh as Connor’s, all the necessary comforts are at my disposal: a soft bed, a kitchen, and a bathroom. I rub my eyes, thankful the windows are tinted so the morning sunshine doesn’t blind me. I kick the sheet off, stretching my arms over my head. Coffee—I need a triple-shot mocha and a new life plan. I rest my head in my hands, the reality of what happened last night hitting me.
I hate Connor.
That’s my new mantra. Remembering all the crappy things he’s done to me should inspire me to never miss him, to never regret my choice. But moving into Lucas’s house…What was I thinking? Sure, he’s a cop, but is that reason enough to trust him? Probably not. Though he defended me without pause when no one else had the courage or desire to stop Connor, and that’s not the first time my ex abused me in public. Lucas scored big points with Marie and Brandon; that means something, too. Those two are worse than a pair of pit bulls when it comes to me. They’re my only family.
As much as I attempt to convince myself that my heart is suddenly my own again, my mind wanders back to Connor. Love, no matter how toxic, is beyond most people’s control. A single tear slides down my cheek and I swipe it away. Compose yourself, Karlie. I’m just nervous about moving. There’s an undeniable attraction between Lucas and me, but he’s offered me a perfectly respectable reason to live there.
Brandon would never approve if he had doubts about Lucas, and he’s an excellent judge of character. He works part time as a bounty
hunter for a bail bondsman. In fact, he promised to run a quick background check on Lucas today. If everything looks good, there’s only one thing holding me back—myself. I’m known for self-sabotaging sometimes. Growing up in group homes and living in foster care tends to diminish any faith you have in yourself. College helps, and I’m slowly learning to trust my instincts, to believe in my academic abilities. But I still feel worthless some of the time.
I check my watch—ten-thirty. We didn’t get home until four in the morning. Well, there’s time for sleep later. I need to get my truck before Connor gets home. His mom won’t give me any trouble, but she’ll demand an explanation. Maybe I’ll finally tell her what a piece of crap her son is.
I stand up, slipping into my flip-flops. My backpack and suitcase are inside the apartment. I grab my purse, step outside, then turn to lock the door. I head upstairs to Marie’s apartment and have to knock only once before she opens the door, smiling.
“Get in here, sleeping beauty.” She grabs my hand, pulling me inside. “Hungry?”
“Coffee,” I moan.
Although their place is small, it’s incredibly cushy and clean. Brandon and Marie live on a tight budget, but when they buy something—whether it’s a leather sofa or a big-screen TV—it’s always high quality. It’s not that they can’t afford a bigger apartment. But they’re both seniors at A&M and chose to live this way until after graduation, building up their savings. A nest egg, as Marie calls it. I plop down on the sofa.
“Where’s Brandon?”
“He’ll be back soon.” She looks over her shoulder from the kitchen sink. “I believe he wanted to get that background check done early before everyone shows up at the office.”
“Think Lucas’s story will check out?”
She folds the dishtowel in half and hangs it on a hook as she turns to face me. “I know it will. Everything that boy does screams popo. Some guys have genetic predispositions to be cops, you know. Natural-born leaders, a sense of justice, protectiveness…”
I roll my eyes; she’s talking him up like he’s a saint. “I get it,” I say. “You like him.”
“I do,” she admits. “And so do you.”
“He probably has a perfect girlfriend or half a dozen kids somewhere. Guys like him always do.”