by Tracy Wolff
“Of course he is. She’s laying on the famous Montgomery charm. Her latest lover got wise and dropped her a couple of weeks ago so she’s on the prowl for a new bank account. This benefit is a perfect opportunity for her to close the deal.”
Kara laid a hand on his shoulder, and for a second he tensed, expecting her to say the same things his sisters did. That he was being too tough on Candy. That he needed to try to be more understanding. That he should cut her a break once in a while.
But this was Kara, who knew him better than anybody, and all she said was, “Rough couple of months with your mom, huh?”
He snorted. “More like a rough couple of decades, don’t you think?”
He knew he sounded cynical, but it was hard to be anything else when it came to his mother. In the years since his dad had died, she’d run through the very significant portfolio he’d left for her and now counted on Lucas or whatever man she was currently dating to take care of her.
After ten years and twice as many rich lovers, he’d given up expecting her to change. Of course, he’d also given up “cutting her a break.” If that made him a bastard, then he was willing to live with it—even if his sisters couldn’t.
Turning to Kara, he switched the focus back where it belonged. “So, how exactly does this escape plan of yours begin?”
* * *
KARA WATCHED AS LUCAS’S eyes went cold and hard at the mention of his mother. Not that she blamed him. Most of the time, she wanted to shake some sense into Candy Montgomery herself and she wasn’t even related to the woman. She could only imagine how bad it was for Lucas, control freak extraordinaire and the most dependable man she’d ever met, to be saddled with a mother who not only wouldn’t be controlled, but who was completely undependable.
As they scooted around the terrace, she glanced through the ballroom windows and saw his mother doing what she did best—telling an animated story to a gaggle of admirers. She was beautiful and glittery and obviously in her element as the center of attention at a benefit that should be all about her son. Not that anyone who knew her would be surprised.
What was surprising, at least to Kara, was how two people who looked so alike could be such different people. Both Lucas and his mother were absolutely stunning, with classically beautiful faces, piercing blue eyes and dark ebony hair. Lucas wore it too long and his mom wore it in a short, gamine cut that showed off her gorgeous bone structure and ageless skin. And though Lucas, at six foot four, stood about eight inches taller than his mother, they both had long, lean bodies and an innate sense of grace that drew gazes to them wherever they went.
Yet that was where the resemblance ended. Candy Montgomery was simpering, flighty and completely irresponsible. Oh, she was sweet—and as charming as the rest of Lucas’s family—but she lived in a dream world. Which would be fine, except for the fact that Lucas’s father had taught his son at an early age that he was the responsible one, the one whose job it was to take care of his mom and sisters if anything happened to Lucas, Sr. It was a responsibility he’d taken seriously for the ten years since his father had died, one that required he bail his mom and sisters out of whatever trouble they got themselves into. Which was a significant amount of trouble.
Lucas never complained, and she never brought it up, but after seventeen years of watching his mother and sisters taking financial and emotional advantage of him, Kara wanted to tell them all to grow up. They were adults and it was no longer his job to take care of them. But she refused to give Lucas her opinion on it unless he asked—the last thing she wanted to do was cause him more stress.
Kara saw Candy start to scan the crowd, as if she was looking for someone. It was probably time to show off her son. Kara reached out and shoved Lucas, hard. Completely unprepared for the push, he stumbled back a few steps—just enough to be hidden from view by a giant column, exactly as she’d intended.
“What the hell was that for?” he demanded.
She ducked behind the column with him. “I had to think fast. We were about to be spotted.”
“I didn’t realize we were actually hiding.”
“Of course we’re hiding. How else are we supposed to get out of here?” She stuck her head out, looked around. Candy had turned and was walking toward the front of the ballroom—straight for Amanda and Jack but with her back to the window. She grabbed Lucas’s hand and tugged him into the shadows of the patio.
“Come on, now’s our chance to escape.”
Lucas reached out and snagged her hand, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. “You do realize that we aren’t mounting a prison break, don’t you? We’re simply leaving a fundraiser a few minutes early.”
She shot him a pitying look. “I will have you know, this is much more complicated than a prison break. After all, in prison, all they do is toss you back in your cell. Here, if we get caught, they might actually kick you out of high society completely.”
He snorted. “I couldn’t get that lucky.”
“Still, why risk it?” Grabbing his hand, she began skulking along the edges of the terrace, sticking to the shadows so that no one could see them.
“You’re completely insane,” he told her, but he played along, anyway, which was exactly as she’d intended. After all, if he was wrapped up in humoring her, he wasn’t brooding about his mommy issues.
Which was a good thing. He was far too good a man to spend his life worrying about things he’d never be able to change. She’d spent too much of the last decade stuck in that catch-22 herself, and there was no way she was going to let her closest friend fall into the same trap.
Finally, they ran out of fence and building to skulk against and reached an open spot on the terrace. After stepping out of the shadows, she chanced another look in the ballroom and realized that they must have been spotted, because his sisters were headed directly for them.
“Duck,” she whispered, bending down so that she was partially hidden by the hedge in front of them. When Lucas just stood there, eyebrows raised incredulously, she grabbed his hand and tugged until he bent down, too.
“What are we doing?” he asked again.
“Hiding from your sisters. I think they spotted us.”
“It’d be hard to miss us, seeing as how we’re acting like maniacs.” Despite his words, he didn’t seem particularly put out by their actions. “Is there some reason I can’t just say good-night to them like a normal person would?”
“No, of course not. Where’s the fun in that?”
“Oh, is that what this escape is supposed to be about? Fun?”
“Ha-ha.” She elbowed him in the stomach. “We can stand up and go say good-night. But I’ve got to tell you, your sisters look like women on a mission. If we go talk to them, I don’t think we’re getting out of here anytime soon.”
She watched as he poked his head above the hedge and checked out the way his sisters were storming the terrace. And though the guests had been trickling home for the past half an hour or so, there were still enough people around that they had gathered quite an entourage behind them.
“I think you’re right,” he finally said.
“So what do you want to do? Stay and talk to them or make a run for it?” She braced herself for the first answer—after all, Lucas didn’t know how to shirk responsibility. And though she was disappointed their little game would end, she was just pleased he’d played along with her this long. Lucas didn’t have enough fun in his life, and lately, neither had she.
S
he was so convinced that their little game of hide-and-seek was over that when he said, “Let’s make a run for it,” it took a few seconds for the words to register.
“Seriously?” she asked him after she managed to close her mouth.
He grinned. “Last one to the lobby is a rotten egg.”
CHAPTER TWO
KARA DIDN’T ANSWER HIS challenge right away, though Lucas did see her relax a little in relief. Instead, she crept forward to the edge of the bushes, one small step at a time. But the second she reached the pathway that circled around to the front of the hotel, she was off and running, sprinting down the trail to the hotel’s front door.
He was hot on her heels, could have beaten her easily—she was in four-inch stilettos, after all. But he was enjoying the view of her long legs and curvy ass in her short, tight red dress too much to rush ahead. She might be his best friend, and off-limits because of it, but he was still a man and it was a hell of a view. Besides, Kara was laughing, the melancholy exhaustion of earlier long gone, and he was definitely willing to finish second if it meant keeping the smile on her face.
“I won!” she exclaimed the second he turned the corner to the valet parking area.
“I noticed.”
“So what’s my prize?”
“A ride home?” he asked, fishing in his pocket for his valet ticket.
She made a disparaging sound. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“It kind of is.”
“Careful, Lucas, you’re getting staid in your old age.”
“You are aware that we’re exactly the same age,” he reminded her, reaching out to yank on one of her flame-red curls.
She kicked off her shoes, scooped them up. “Yeah, but I’m not an old fuddy-duddy.”
“I’m not boring.” He knew she was just joking, but the accusation stung a little. It hit too close to home, he supposed. It was too similar to what his family told him regularly.
“I never said you were boring,” she said, snatching his keys out of his hand and dropping them into her red-beaded clutch. “But I figure we can do better than a ride home. That diner with the apple pie is just up the street. I say we go for it.”
She started walking and he found himself following along behind her. That apple pie did sound good—and maybe the chance to relax over dessert would get Kara talking. Because as much as he’d enjoyed being a part of her absurd little getaway, Kara was only ever this crazy when something was very wrong. Through the years, he’d learned there was an inverse correlation between the two. The more upset Kara was, the more lighthearted and silly she’d act. And while he was happy to go along for the ride, at some point she was going to run out of gas and he had every intention of being there for her when she did.
As they walked, Kara bombarded him with questions. How’s the clinic? How’s life? How’s your family? He let her get away with the inane small talk, though he knew it was more about keeping the focus on him and off herself than it was about stuff they’d already covered. But sometimes keeping the peace was more important than getting to the bottom of things right away. Life with a histrionic mother and two high-maintenance sisters had taught him that.
Besides, this was Kara. She’d never been able to keep a secret from him in her life and he had no intention of letting her do so now. If he didn’t push, she’d eventually loosen up and it would all come spilling out. And if it didn’t…well, then he’d push.
Still, though they’d walked together a million times—through the deserted midnight streets of downtown Atlanta as well as a hundred other places—something felt off tonight. Like there was something between them and they weren’t quite connecting, though the rhythm of their speech was as relaxed as always.
It made him uncomfortable. He hadn’t been able to count on much in his life—more often than not the clinic was one short budget cut away from extinction and since his father had died, he was the one his family turned to for just about everything. But Kara was different. She was the one person he could always count on to be there for him and to be straight with him. He couldn’t stand the idea that there was something she wasn’t sharing with him, something that was bothering her that she wasn’t letting him help with. He’d just made up his mind to ask her what was going on when she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked up at the pocket of midnight sky that wasn’t blocked by buildings.
“It’s a beautiful night—not too hot or humid yet,” she said.
“Seriously?” he asked. “Now we’re going to talk about the weather?”
“Not really. I was just making conversation.” She never took her eyes from the sky, and finally he glanced up, too, trying to figure out what she found so interesting. But it was the same sky they always saw. “You can’t see any stars from here,” he finally told her. “The lights are too bright.”
She sighed. “I know. I kind of like that.”
“Since when? You’ve been into stargazing as long as I’ve known you. God knows, we did enough of it in college.”
“We did do a lot of it. I used to love driving out to the middle of nowhere with you, staring up at that infinite sky, bursting with possibilities.”
“So what’s changed?”
“Nothing.” She sighed. “Or everything. You know, in Somalia, the sky is so wide-open. It goes on for miles and miles. When I was there, looking at it and feeling completely insignificant, it occurred to me that there’s something comforting about only being able to see this little bit of sky. You know what I mean?”
No, he really didn’t. He found the whole concept behind her explanation pretty damned depressing, actually. Not to mention it sounded nothing like the take-life-by-the-tail adventurer he knew her to be.
Trying to think over the clang of warning bells going off in the back of his mind, he decided delicacy be damned. He was getting to the bottom of this. “You want to tell me what’s going on, Kara?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“You seem…troubled.”
She dropped her eyes back to his and smiled stiffly. “I told you, it’s the jet lag. I’m just a little off.”
If this was a little, he’d hate to see a lot. “Do you want to go home?”
“No!” she answered forcefully, panic flashing before she tamped it down. “The diner’s up ahead.”
“I’m not really in the mood for pie.”
“Now those are words I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth.”
He wanted to shake her, to demand that she tell him what was going on in her head. He knew it wasn’t the way to get it out of her, but part of him didn’t care. She was hurting and it was his job to make it better. It had always been his job, with everyone in his life. Why couldn’t Kara understand that and just let him help?
Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair before demanding, “Tell me, Kara. Whatever it is, spit it out.”
“Spit what out?” She looked confused, but under it all was a shade of panic that set off his own nerves.
“Are you sick?” he asked abruptly.
“What? No.”
“Were you hurt in Somalia?”
“Of course not. Why are you asking all these questions?”
“Because you’re not talking to me. I want to know what’s put that bruised look in your eyes. And don’t,” he said as she opened her mouth to protest, “pretend that you have no idea what I’m talking about. It will only piss me off.”
* * *
KARA STARED A
T LUCAS, words welling up on her tongue that she had no idea how to say. Not to him when he wouldn’t understand. He always knew what he was doing, always had a plan. And once he’d made that plan, he stuck to it. No matter what. How could he understand that she was suddenly, deathly afraid that she couldn’t stick to the life plan she’d made for herself? Or worse, that she’d made a mistake ever thinking it was right for her?
No, she couldn’t tell him. Not now. She needed more time to figure it out in her own head, more time to decide what her options were before she asked him for his advice. With Lucas, it was always better to have a few backup plans in place before talking to him. Otherwise, he’d just take over and she’d find herself right back where she’d started.
Closing her eyes for a moment to clear her head, she opened them to find Lucas staring straight at her. Since she couldn’t meet his eyes, not when she was lying to him, she shifted her gaze behind her—and realized they’d stopped in front of her favorite park. Suddenly the idea of doing something mindless, something just for fun, appealed to her in a way nothing had for a very long time.
Was it absurd? Yes.
Was she going to do it, anyway? Absolutely.
Maybe it would buy her the time she needed to figure out exactly what it was she wanted to say. Because the look in Lucas’s eye said he wasn’t going to let her get away with evading him for long. Not this time. Not tonight.
“Wanna swing?” she asked him, nodding to the park behind him.
“Swing?” It was like he’d never heard of the word.
“It’ll be fun.” She walked closer to the locked fence that kept the public out after eleven at night.