She rubbed her temples, tired of Roxi’s chatter. “Listen, I’m going to go lie down. If anyone stops by, tell them I’m asleep.”
“Who would be stopping by?”
“No one.” She answered quickly, regretting her words. Damn, she shouldn’t have said anything. Now Roxi’s radar was on full alert. Then again, it was probably better to warn Roxi ahead of time. If Armand knew where she worked, he must know where she lived; Ryne would have shared that information, too.
Roxi cocked her head. “Yeah. Right. Is no one some guy?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged, refusing to cave in to Roxi’s unspoken demand for information. “Just…just send him away. Please.”
“Okay.” Roxi nodded seeming to accept the request and licked the chocolate stains from her fingers before speaking again. “Oh, by the way, you left these sitting on the table in the entryway.” She handed over a box of tampons. “The fake A/C guy was eyeing them. Some kind of perv, I bet.”
“Thanks.” She took the box as she headed to her bedroom, having completely forgotten about bringing it home from work the other day.
Roxi followed behind. “So, about this no one...”
She sighed. The girl was like a wasp around a bowl of sugar; she just couldn’t be distracted. “Give it a rest, Roxi. Please?”
“Can I at least say I’m surprised? You’ve never been involved with anyone the entire time we’ve been roommates.”
“So I’m full of surprises today.” She shut the door firmly before Roxi could speak again. Tossing the box on the dresser, she sat down on the edge of her bed.
It was understandable that Roxi was questioning her. She had led a quiet life during the time they’d been roommates. Roxi was the wild one. A smile tugged at her lips as she thought of how they’d met.
After leaving the hospital, she’d rented this place but hadn’t felt comfortable living alone. Her advertisement for a roommate had produced a few inquiries. Then Roxi had arrived. She smiled at the memory...
A knock on the door had her glancing at her watch, confirming the person was probably the next roommate interviewee. She’d already met three potentials. They’d all been near her age and had seemed nice, but she hadn’t felt a connection to any of them.
“Hello.” She opened the door after looking through the peephole and seeing a young woman with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Roxanne?”
“Yep, that’s me. But call me Roxi.” The girl cracked her gum, bent down, picked up a large suitcase and a backpack then walked in. “You’re Lou?”
“Yes,” she nodded eyeing the bags.
“I think I’ll call you Lulu.”
“Um…okay.”
Roxi looked around. “Nice enough place. Not too much of a dive.”
She blinked. “Well, the rent isn’t much—”
“Yeah, that’s what I liked about the ad. Cheap suits my budget perfectly.” Roxi smiled at her and tilted her head. “So, where’s my room?”
“It’s the second door from the end of the hall on the left but—”
Roxi wasn’t listening. “The kitchen is dated but clean. The living room furniture…who chose that flowered sofa and those chairs? They scream ‘grandma lives here’. Oh well, slipcovers can do wonders.” She walked down the hall and poked her head in the bathroom before heading into the bedroom. After a glance around, she nodded and set her suitcase on the bed and the backpack on the floor. “This will do. I’ll bring the rest of my stuff tomorrow.”
At that point, she knew she had to take back control of the situation. She folded her arms and used a look that had put more than one drunk man in his place. “Now wait just a minute. This is just an interview, remember? You are not just moving in here.”
“You’ve had other people looking at the place?”
“Yes. Three in fact and I—”
“But you didn’t like any of them, did you?”
“I didn’t dislike them.”
“So why not me?” Roxi held her arms out and turned around. “Check me out. I’m young. I’m healthy. I’ll pay my half of the expenses. I won’t have parties here unless we throw one together. What else do you need to know?” She gave a cheeky grin.
Something about the girl had her smiling. Bold, brash…like she’d been in her early days in Stump River. “Well…”
“Come on, give me a chance. You won’t regret it.”
She took a deep breath trying not to be sucked in by Roxi’s energy. “Where do you live now?”
“At home. With my mother.” Roxi made a face.
“How old are you?” She eyed her up and down.
“Nineteen. I know, I know, I look younger but I’m not.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And before you ask, I’m leaving because my mother and I don’t see eye to eye. She wants me to go into the family business, but I have no talent in that area.” A shadow passed over the girl’s face. “I’m the only one that doesn’t fit in, doesn’t meet their expectations. I’m tired of hearing about it so I’m going to make a fresh start.”
A fresh start. Those were the words that had tipped things in Roxi’s favour. She knew all about fresh starts…
Well, her fresh start was about to be ruined. She flopped back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. It was her own fault. If she’d been paying attention, she wouldn’t have been mugged. Or she’d at least have used some of the self defence moves she’d been taught. Her ID might have been saved and she wouldn’t have had to contact Ryne.
Damn that mugger!
Armand walked down the street, eyeing the buildings with disdain. Lucy had given up Stump River for this? He shook his head, not understanding the appeal.
There are hardly any trees or grass. No open space. No cool fresh air. His bear sneered in disapproval.
He gave a mental nod of agreement. This place did not suit him. If Lucy preferred the big city, he didn’t know what he’d do. There was no way he could live like this.
At the corner he paused, took a deep breath and then turned left following her scent. Yes, Ryne had given him the address but flagging down a taxi on the busy roads had seemed a complicated affair. Besides he preferred to walk and, as a bear, his sense of smell was acute. People always went on about the abilities of tracking dogs, yet most didn’t know that bears, as a species, are considered to have the best sense of smell of any land mammal.
Perhaps that was why something had never seemed right about Lucy’s death. He’d visited the cemetery after her burial and there’d been no scent of her anywhere.
She is not dead. His bear had shaken its head, denying the visual evidence of a head stone, the write up in the newspaper and even the recount of events Melody and Ryne had shared.
“As much as it hurts, we can’t change the facts.” He’d knelt on one knee, setting down the bouquet of wildflowers he’d picked. Rather than standing again, he’d traced over her name and date of death. She’d been so young…
There is something wrong with this. The bear had been insistent, snuffling the grave.
He’d not listened to the creature, too caught up in his own grief. Instead, he’d gone into the woods to mourn and to help his bear reconcile to the sad turn of events. It had never completely believed him. Now he knew why. The bear was wiser than he.
Yes, he’d find Lucy’s home and encourage her to talk to him. He was a good listener, a natural skill for a bear, and one that helped him in his job at the bar. People often spilled their hearts to him, knowing he’d give solid feedback. Once she had explained her reasoning, he would forgive her, counter her logic and back it up with his actions. Then she would see they were meant to be together.
His musing came to a halt when he arrived at her building. It was one of several just like it on the street, plain brick, with a metal fire escape mounted to the exterior. He opened the door and entered the building finding himself in a foyer with stairs directly in front of him, mailboxes to the left and an apartment on the right. The door to the apartment
was partially open, the sound of a TV show and snoring drifting into the foyer along with the scent of beer. If the person inside was the doorman, he was failing miserably. With a final look around, he headed for the stairs.
What would Lucy say when she opened the door and saw him?
He contemplated the question as he climbed the numerous flights, his bear pacing anxiously as her scent grew increasingly clear. A short hallway led to her apartment and there he hesitated.
There is someone else in the apartment, the scent is distinctly female.
An audience would make things awkward. He’d not factored in such a possibility.
No more waiting.
Right. Giving a nod, he knocked on the door only to wince as he realized the panel was not the usual solid wood he was used to. It sounded like he was trying to pound the door down.
He heard footsteps, sensed someone looking at him through the peephole followed by the sound of locks being worked. Finally, the door opened and a dark-haired young woman greeted him.
“You must be no one.” She grinned up at him.
He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
She didn’t explain herself, instead looking him up and down, a grin slowly widening her mouth.
Not knowing how to respond to her puzzling statement, he simply said, “I’m Armand St. John. I’m here to see Lucy.”
“Lucy?” Her gaze returned to his face. “Oh, you mean Lulu.”
“Er…yes.” He frowned. Lucy, Louise and now Lulu? How many names did she have?
“Well, damn! Ain’t she the lucky one? And it’s not even her birthday.” She leaned against the door jamb, her body blocking the entrance and, crossing her arms, she gave him another once over. “I’m Roxi.” The statement was punctuated by an annoying cracking sound.
“Pleased to meet you, Roxi.”
“You have a bit of an accent. French?”
He nodded. “Oui, I spent my younger years in Québec.”
“Cool.”
“Lucy?” He prompted, peering over her shoulder and searching what he could see of the apartment. “I know she lives here. I’d like to speak with her.”
“Yeah, I know. She warned me. Wait here. Last I heard she wasn’t feeling well.” She pushed off from the wall and disappeared into the apartment.
He decided to follow, recalling how Lucy had managed to disappear from the diner. From the rear of the apartment, he could hear Roxi speaking.
“Hey Lulu, no one is here to see you.”
Chapter 7
Lou hugged her pillow to her chest when she heard pounding on the door. It could be someone trying to break-in and, childishly, she crossed her fingers hoping it was; however, she wasn’t going to be that lucky. She knew it was Armand. And, even though she’d told Roxi to send him away, it was expecting a lot to think her roommate would follow through.
Half of her hoped he would leave and head back to Stump River.
Another part of her hoped he wouldn’t.
Ever since she’d started working for him all those years ago, she’d been attracted to him. Tall, strong, calm and steady, she felt safe and protected around him. And he listened to her rather than just staring at her boobs. In fact, he never responded to her flirting, instead softly laughing and shaking his head before replying in his softly accented tones…
“You’re between men, Lucy.”
“I like you, Armand.” She leaned against his arm and playfully batted her lashes at him.
He gave her a half-smile. “You’re like a butterfly moving from flower to flower.”
“Only until I find the right one.”
“And how will you know when you do?”
“I—” She furrowed her brow, not sure how to explain. It would be like she felt around him. Did that mean he was the one? She’d like to explore the possibility except he always brushed her off in the politest possible way.
Over time she’d come to realize he viewed her only as a friend. Or so she’d believed until their one and only kiss.
It had been as she was leaving for her impromptu vacation to Chicago. He’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her until her toes had curled. She’d clung to him mindlessly, loving the feel of his powerful arms around her, the faint scratch of his beard, the masterful way he’d threaded his fingers through her hair and angled her head to suit him. It had been heaven and then…he’d let her go.
Why hadn’t he asked her to stay? Why had he let her walk away? And why was he here now?
Probably because Ryne had sent him, dammit.
She nodded in agreement. Armand had a great sense of duty.
Roxi spoke outside her room, laughter lacing her voice. “Hey Lulu, no one is here to see you.”
“Tell him I’m sick.” It was a vain attempt, she knew it.
“Yeah, well I don’t think he cares.”
“Fine. Tell him I’ll be out in a minute.” She sighed and tossed her pillow aside then donned her glasses. Her reflection in the mirror across the room caught her attention. The scar seemed to show up more than ever and her hair was a mess. Finger-combing the locks into place she debated about changing out of the ragged t-shirt and shorts she’d put on then shrugged. This was who she was now. If Armand didn’t like it, too bad.
Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door to find Roxi grinning at her and Armand standing a few feet behind, arms folded and brows lowered.
“Hello Lucy.”
“Armand.”
He looked the same…mostly. His beard was shorter and his hair was neatly tied back. The look suited him. When she finally met his gaze, he was staring at her, his face expressionless. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, finally glancing away as if the view out the window held her interest. It showed the fire escape and for one insane moment she considered bolting towards it and running away. He’d catch her, of course. Armand could move quickly despite his size. How many times had she seen him fluidly swing over the bar and plant himself between two brawlers before she could even open her mouth and call for help?
Roxi cleared her throat. “I can tell you two chatterboxes aren’t going to let me get a word in edgewise so I’ll leave you alone.”
“Roxi—" Before she could finish her request, her roommate was heading down the hall towards the door.
“Call if you need me.” Roxi waggled her fingers, snagged her purse and left.
As the door to the apartment shut, she worried her lip nervously and then gestured awkwardly towards the living room. “Why don’t we sit down?”
Armand nodded and walked to the sitting area, choosing a spot on the sofa. She perched on the edge of a nearby chair and clasped her hands in her lap. He was examining the room and she wondered what he was thinking. The dark blue slip covers made the second-hand sofa and chairs look pretty good and the end tables were nicely polished. Of course, given the décor of the Broken Antler, he probably thought this was a palace.
He hadn’t spoken since saying hello. She cleared her throat. “How have you been?”
“Alive. Unlike you.” There was no smile on his face as he swung his gaze her way. His eyes bored into hers, darkly accusing. “You’re dead. Or so I was led to believe.”
“Um…about that. I…I’m sorry.” She nervously reached up and touched the scar.
“For what? That Ryne told me? Or that I found you?” He was giving her no quarter, his questions cutting to the very heart.
“I’m sorry I deceived you. I...” She took a deep breath. “It wasn’t planned. You know I’d been talking about moving for a while. Something happened while I was here—”
“You were attacked. You almost died.”
“Yes. I was in shock, scared…”
“Then you should have come home where your friends would have taken care of you.”
He’d said friends would take care of her rather than saying he would be the one. That hurt more than it should but at least she knew where she stood. She swallowed down her emotion. “You think I should
have gone back to my old life.”
“Yes.” He gave an emphatic nod.
“But then things would never have changed.”
“Changed?”
She gave a sad smile. “Armand, my old life had nothing for me.”
“You had friends, an apartment, a job, two in fact.” He enumerated the points on his fingers. “That’s not nothing. It’s a great deal.”
“Yes. You’re right. I did.” She stared down at her hands, her fingers twisting nervously. “But there was no real future for me there.”
He cocked his head, frowning. “Future? I’m not sure what you mean?”
“I…” She wasn’t sure how to explain without revealing her feelings for him. Feelings he didn’t return. Finally, she gave up and shook her head. “Why are you here, Armand?”
“Ryne told me someone is bothering you. I came to make sure you’re safe.”
“That’s what I thought.” She pressed her lips tightly together. “Ryne had no right. I told him I was fine. It was just a mugging.”
“He shared what you said to him.” Armand folded his arms. “We both agreed it would be best to check on you.”
“You both agreed? Don’t I have a say in this?”
“We’re friends and friends watch out for each other.” He leaned back in the sofa, his chin firmly set as if that was the end of things.
“Armand, I’m a grown woman—”
“A beautiful woman on her own.”
Beautiful? She used to be. It seemed ages since she’d heard that word. Not that it mattered, of course. She’d come to realize she had value beyond her outward appearance. Lacing her fingers together, she resisted the urge to touch her scar again. To distract herself she concentrated on his ‘woman on her own’ comment.
“I can take care of myself.” She had, in fact, been on her own for most of her life as he well knew. Her mother had loved her but hadn’t been the maternal sort, barely capable of managing her own life.
He didn’t reply, damn him. Armand could be old-fashioned at times and very stubborn.
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