“Lucas, I can’t accept this. It’s lovely, but…” He places a quick peck onto my lips, stopping me mid-sentence. “You do know you can’t kiss me every time I’m going to say something you don’t want to hear,” I say as quickly as possible, afraid he’ll stop me again.
“I know, but it gives me another excuse to kiss you,” he says with a coy smile. “I saw it when I was shopping for Arya’s gifts and it reminded me of you, since you told me your favorite color is green.”
This may be the first time a man has bought me a gift, and I’ve reacted so ungrateful. “It’s lovely, thank you.” I timidly smile and decide to quit talking before I ruin his happiness and make an even bigger ass of myself. Lucas kisses me again on the cheek, brushing my lips with his.
I don’t know if it is possible to fall in love with someone this quickly, but I definitely am. Whether it is this moment, last night, or the moment our eyes first met, I don’t know when it began, but I can’t deny how I feel. Does anyone ever truly know the moment they fall for someone? Not knowing when it happened doesn’t make it any less real. I’m lost in Lucas “Maverick” Isaiah Daniels, formerly known as ‘Da Lady Killah’. Although I don’t know what it means, I say what he said to me previously, “Lucas, you are my calm.”
“As you are mine, love…as you are mine,” he softly says and then tenderly kisses me. “Let’s go make a six-year-old little girl’s day. I’m her favorite uncle, and I know she’ll love you.”
*****
When we walk past the waving balloons, I want to wave back at them, but I know Lucas would think I’m completely insane, so I resist the urge. We stroll down a dirt path that divides two fields of clovers with a vast bed of dandelions sprouting. There aren’t too many people here, but I instantly wish I could have changed before coming to the party. Everyone is dressed much fancier than I am, and it makes me feel very awkward and self-conscious.
There are four women sitting at the main picnic table, all wearing sundresses of different spring colors. Oddly, they all have blonde hair that twists into stylish updos that should be worn on the red carpet, not a six-year-old’s birthday party. I do recognize a few of them from Jace’s party last night, but I didn’t talk to them. Blonde bimbo number two bats her eyelashes at Lucas, and I can feel my blood pressure start to rise. Maybe they are the Stepford Wives, or maybe they are Lacey’s friends. Whatever or whomever they are, by the looks they are giving me, I can tell they don’t like me very much, and the feeling is mutual.
Lucas leads me past the table with a curt nod toward the Stepford Wives, acknowledging them. My body tenses as they stare me down. I think, Take a picture. It will last longer! I’ve never really gotten along with very many women. Dar says it’s because they are just jealous of me. She is as insane as I am; however, I usually don’t give much credibility to her rants.
“Sorry about that. It’s not you; it’s me. Don’t pay attention to them. I guess it just goes to show you that your past can haunt you,” Lucas says and tightens the hold he has around my waist. I peer over my shoulder and give the women a look as if to say, “Back off, bitches!” I know I shouldn’t have, but I’m only human, right?
“Your past? How many women have you… err, um, dated?” His past relationships shouldn’t bother me, but thinking of his arms around anyone else turns my stomach.
“Next question, please?” He pulls out his gold chain from under his shirt and looks at it, clearly avoiding my eyes.
“Forget I asked.” The more I compare myself to those women, the more doubts I have. “Let’s both just claim temporary insanity and quit while we are ahead,” I say, planting my feet with no intention of moving until he gives me some type of explanation.
“Cassandra, fine.” He presses his lips into a hard line. Why is he frustrated with me? It should be the other way around. He’s the one who brought me to an unexpected blast from the sexual past. “I’ll answer you, but not here. This is not the place to have a conversation about whom I’ve screwed.” It sounds like he is forcing each word out of his mouth.
Yes, I had assumed they are exactly what he just said, but I didn’t expect him to be so harsh. “I told you earlier I care about you. My past shouldn’t have anything to do with the fact I want you and no one else,” he exaggerates the last seven words. “I am more certain of you than the air I breathe. Just don’t give up on us before we have a chance.” His voice lowers, and he turns me to face him as he looks for an answer.
“Sure.” I nonchalantly brush him off with my weak reply. Even though I wish I had more of an explanation, I can tell he isn’t willing to give me one right now. Wondering how many women he has slept with, I mumble, “Asshat,” under my breath and begin to take another step forward. He suddenly stops me, pulling me back and sending my body crashing to his. I brace myself with my hands against his chest in case I need to push away. Once my fingers brush along his sturdy chest, I give up and accept whatever he is planning to do. I wish I could be stronger, but feeling his muscles beneath my fingers breaks apart every bit of willpower I have.
“You’re so blunt.” He begins to shake with laughter, causing my entire body to shake along with him. “I thought we went over this earlier. If you want to see an ‘asshat,’ then I guess I’ll just have to show you one.” Even though I didn’t think it was possible, he closes his arms around me, pulling our bodies tighter together.
Before my brain starts to register what is happening, my body tenses. Oh, shit! Really? Lucas leans around, placing his lips to my neck and smiling against my skin. The warmth of his breath clouds my thoughts. He laughs, and then he licks my face from my jawline to my cheek. “Did you really just lick me?” I take my hand and wipe off the saliva, making a disgusted face at him as he releases me.
“Indeed, I did. Call me that again and see what happens.” He looks like the cat that ate the canary. He lowers his voice to a whisper as he says, “I dare you, Cassandra.” He wets his lips with his tongue. “You taste amazing.”
My mouth falls open as I look down to a huge pair of honey-colored eyes filled with questions looking up at us. “Luke, who is your friend whom you’ve just finished licking?” The young girl, whom I assume is Arya, says with a British accent. She’s British and in West Virginia? She seems very articulate for her age. It’s actually astonishing. She has glistening blonde hair that stops just above her hips, and her skin is almost as pale as my own.
“Arya Gene Morgan, this is my girlfriend Cassandra Blair Anderson.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Cassandra,” Arya says, extending her little hand to shake mine.
I take her small hand and greet her. “Pleasure to…uh… meet you as well, Arya?” Her vocabulary doesn’t appear to be one that most six-year-olds possess, and her politeness is impeccable. Both cause me to behave like a blubbering idiot and stammer over my introduction.
“Arya, honey, why don’t you take Cassandra to meet your mother while I get your presents out of the car?” Despite the fact I don’t mind walking with his niece, it would have been nice to be given an option. I watch as he walks away. Arya, pulling at my hand, draws my attention from him. She leads me along with her, bouncing forward and beginning to zigzag throughout the diverse groups of people. She stops occasionally to introduce me to someone I don’t know, and I am guessing by the end of it all, I probably will not remember their names. Trying to stay as attentive as possible, I nod at everyone she brings me to as they tell stories about their family. Some of them seem so happy that Lucas has brought a girl with him; others, such as the Stepford Wives, not so much.
We approach a frail-looking woman sitting at a table with a meek smile on her face. She is the first person Arya has brought me to that has caught my attention. Her kind honey eyes match Arya’s, but look too large for her face, and her blonde hair is thin and brittle. She looks at Arya with so much admiration and love. I know she has to be her mother.
I saw the same look in my own mom’s eyes before Dad left us, before she started seeing
so many men. Mom said her one true love would always be José. Fucking tequila! I guess as believable as an alcoholic’s words can be, my mom lived true to hers. She always stuck by José through thick and thin. Even when she could have been doing something else, he was her scapegoat.
Just before we get within hearing distance of her, Arya opens her mouth. “That’s my mother, Amelia. She has cancer, and the doctor says she will go to Heaven soon. And, that’s my father, Felix, behind her.” Arya is so matter-of-fact, as if she hadn’t just told me her mother was dying. Instantly, I feel guilty for feeling sorry for myself. At least when Mom left, I wasn’t a child.
Felix is an attractive man, but he can’t hold a candle to Lucas’ superior looks. I’m not sure anyone can. Still, he seems he just walked off the runway. He is very tall, probably around six-and-a-half feet. I wonder if he played basketball as a child. He has messy brown hair and eyes almost matching the color of my own light blues. He smiles, acknowledging us as we approach them and exposing a small gap between his two front teeth. Somehow, even that small flaw in his appearance makes him look more appealing.
“Mother, Father.” She nods after addressing her parents. “This is Cassandra. She is Lucas’ girlfriend, whom he likes to lick.” She wrinkles up her little nose after sharing the last part and has finally done something that a kid her age would do. She probably still thinks boys are icky and have cooties. I chuckle to myself, but attempt to keep a sense of composure, so I don’t appear rude. Amelia and Felix laugh among themselves, and then Felix bends down, whispering something into her ear and causing her to smile.
“It’s nice to meet the two of you. I’m sorry to crash the party. I didn’t know I was coming until earlier today when Lucas mentioned it to me.” I extend my hand to shake Amelia’s, and she pulls me harder than I thought she was capable of, causing me to fall right onto her lap. Maybe it’s a family trait to pull me around like a rag doll. Amelia hugs me and places a swift kiss onto my cheek.
“You aren’t crashing anything, dear. We were expecting you,” Amelia clarifies. Of course, Lucas called ahead and warned them I was coming. It would only make sense to do so. I guess I’m the only one who is actually surprised at this impromptu meeting.
Amelia releases me, and I stand. Giving me a hug, Felix says, “‘Tis a pleasure to meet you. Do you fancy a drink?” He speaks with an accent similar to the one Arya uses. He seems more authentic, though, like he is originally from overseas.
“Water, if you have any?” I ask hoarsely, my mouth suddenly dry at the mention of something to drink. Felix takes off toward a nearby cooler, grabbing a water bottle and tossing it to me. Arya climbs onto Amelia’s lap and begins twisting her thin hair into a tiny braid, making me wonder if her sickness is the reason Ayra acts older than she really is. There is no denying her mother is dying, and you can clearly see the reversal of the roles. Ayra, more adult, and her mother, more child-like.
Lucas returns, carrying the gifts and placing them onto the table behind Amelia and Arya. Felix turns to the table with a camera around his neck. “Go ahead, Arya dear. You may open them.” Felix shifts his attention toward me. “She has already opened her other gifts. We need to get home soon. I apologize for hurrying, but Amelia needs to get some rest,” he explains with a faint smile. Amelia kindly nods her head in appreciation to her husband.
“Oh, please, don’t apologize. I understand completely.” I really don’t comprehend the death of a loved one. Not really...I grieved for Mom, but only because she left and never returned. His words come back to haunt me. “I…will...kill...your...mother.” He probably played a big part of her not returning, but who could blame her? She found me tied to the bed after he was done with me and tossed me aside. It must have been more than she could cope with. I don’t know how long I was there before she came home. I just couldn’t tell her what happened. I knew in my heart if I told anyone, especially her, he would kill her, but to this day, I am still not convinced he didn’t.
Mom called 911 and forced me to speak to the police, despite how much I desperately tried to convince her it was unnecessary. I assured her I was fine, regardless of the fact it was a lie. I needed to do everything I could to prevent him from finding out. I needed to protect her. However, she only cried harder after cutting the ropes from the bedposts and blaming herself.
That night after the interview, she left my hospital room to smoke a cigarette and never returned. He was arrested five days later for what he did to me, but was never charged for her disappearance. I submitted a missing person’s report for her and told the authorities of my suspicions of what Harold had done. He was questioned, of course, but they said the findings were inconclusive, and my testimony would only give speculation, not evidence. “No body, no crime,” they informed me, until I eventually quit looking for her. It was possible she did leave. It wouldn’t have been the first time she deserted me. I assumed she would eventually come home. Sadly, she never did.
Arya opens each of her gifts so carefully, planning each movement precisely before doing it. Felix snaps a few pictures of her opening them. When she unwraps my gift, she hugs it and sets it to the side to open the last present. She finally lets loose and shreds of green wrapping paper fly around her tiny body as she anxiously pulls it from the box. She squeals and reaches inside, pulling out a white remote-controlled puppy. Her face is taken over with a huge smile as she hugs it and then holds up the toy to examine it from every angle. “Thank you so much. I shall name her Maria.” She squeals and gives it another hug.
Lucas brushes her blonde hair from her forehead and kisses the spot. “Arya, you’re welcome.” He sits beside her and explains Maria’s features, which include barking and walking. Arya watches Lucas, clinging to every word he says. Her eyes glisten with love. Seeing them together makes my heart melt. He is a natural with kids.
Felix interrupts my soft heart and says, “You two get together.” Lucas pushes behind me, placing his arms around my waist. It is amazing to me that Lucas’ simple touch sets my skin on fire. I pull my fingers through my hair and fix an invisible wrinkle in my shirt while attempting a small smile. Felix snaps the picture.
“Cassandra, you can do better than that. Come on, smile.” Can he really tell I was giving a fake smile? Hmm…
Lucas shifts behind me, tightening his arms around my waist and pulling his body flush with mine. I close my eyes briefly and enjoy our closeness that causes goose bumps to rise on my arm. Remembering he had bent me over his car earlier, I blush and open my eyes, realizing this is the wrong place to reminisce. Lucas decides this is the perfect moment to lick my cheek, again, as if my facial expression isn’t already confusing enough due to my trip down memory lane.
Felix steals a picture, capturing that moment and my facial expression for eternity. Great. Maybe the picture won’t develop. “Eww!” Arya and I say in unison, but I’m sure we say it for two very different reasons. I said it because it was the first coherent thing I could think of after seeing Arya’s look of disgust, and I’m sure she said it because she was actually disgusted. Lucas’ tongue on my skin provokes many emotions. Disgust certainly isn’t one of them for me.
Arya chirps to us, “Luke, Cassandra, thank you very much for the presents, and thank you for coming. We need to go home so Mommy can rest. Plus, to be honest, I’m tired of watching you two lick each other like dogs!” Talk about embarrassing. Not only have I been enjoying Lucas’ touch a little too much, his six-year-old niece just pointed out she noticed. Shoot me now! It shocks me that she is so perceptive. Lucas bursts into laughter, and I hang my head in defeat.
After taking a minute to calm myself, I muster the nerve to face everyone, regardless of the embarrassment. When I look to Amelia, her exhausted body is slumped against the picnic table. She has fallen asleep. It evades me that Arya handles her mother slowly dying before her eyes so maturely. Her self-control and willpower seem stronger when I compare them to my own. Hell, she is probably stronger than most adults in this situatio
n.
Lucas and Felix return after carrying all the gifts and party remains to Felix and Amelia’s minivan. Felix picks up Amelia, rousing her from her nap. “It was delightful to meet you, Cassandra. Love you, Brother.” Lucas lovingly kisses Amelia’s forehead and turns to face me, revealing worry lines above his eyes.
“Come on, love. Let’s get you home.” I don’t remember when Lucas started to call me ‘love,’ but I realize one thing. I adore it. How is that I seemed to avoid all relationships until I met Lucas Daniels? I have had several men in my past, but I just chalked them up to be pure lust. This definitely is more than that, and I would be lying to myself if I did not believe so. My body is drawn to him, much like a moth to a flame or an addict to the needle. Just being near him sends my body into sexual overdrive, and I have started to realize I am the addict, and Lucas Daniels is my drug. He completes me, and I didn’t even know why, until now. The worst part for me is there is nothing I can do to stop it. Well, not anytime soon, that is.
Remembering our conversation earlier, I wink at Lucas and say, “Sounds like a plan to me, Maverick.” Great. Now “Danger Zone” by Kenny Loggins is stuck in my head.
“Are you humming ‘Danger Zone’?” Lucas asks, raising one eyebrow.
“Why, yes, I am. Do you have a problem with it?” Each word I say drips with sarcasm. I playfully stick out my tongue at him and seductively sway my hips from side to side.
“Love, you can do whatever in the hell you want as long as you keep moving like that in front of me.” Well, shit, that didn’t work as I had hoped it would.
“Lucas, you’re an assh…” I tease while shoving on his chest. He deviously smiles as a deep growl of pleasure emits from his throat. It’s almost as if he enjoys the slight pain I’ve caused. “Oh, hell no! Are you one of those freaks? Do you get your jollies from being beaten?”
Just Breathe (Blue #1) Page 11