Lucas’ dark blue eyes came to mind. Her heart fluttered and her knees went weak, just like in a fairy tale. All that was missing was singing animals.
Bailey let out a thick sigh. No bad boys for you, girl.
Ever.
Bad boys used to be her weakness. Now, she was a grown woman with enormous responsibilities like motherhood and managing her family’s diner. Grown-up stuff. So much grown-up stuff that more times than not, she felt out of place at parties like this, where most of the people in attendance were her age.
Bailey never felt her age anymore. Heck, most of the time, she didn’t feel like a woman. She was mommy and manager and dutiful daughter. Never Bailey—who had needs and wants that needed to be satisfied.
She checked her watch and glanced toward the guest of honor, Mason Lawson. Now, he was a man who should make her body all happy. A decent, honorable, and aboveboard type of guy who’d always take a girl home to meet his family, hold her hand, and open doors.
He’d been serving in the Navy as a SEAL and was finally back home as well. His twin brother Tristan kept close, just like when they were growing up, but the uneasiness that permeated the air kept on thickening.
Most likely it was the fact that all conversation had practically screeched to a halt as soon as Lucas was recognized.
Walking to the buffet table, she began to clean up the now-empty pie pans and casserole dishes she’d brought. Dinah Lawson, Lucas’s mother, had asked her to prepare a whole slew of dishes because she wouldn’t have time. It was the first time Bailey had ever ventured into catering.
She wasn’t sure if she’d do it again, and not because Dinah had been anything but warm…and a paying customer. The truth was that Bailey already had too much on her plate as it was.
The skin on the back of her neck prickled and not from the cool breeze that just blew over it either. Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder and found Lucas staring at her with the unmistakable gleam of hunger in his eyes. Her body began to tingle in a way she hadn’t felt since before Leo was born.
Wait, he wasn’t staring at her—he was staring at all the food. He was hungry for food. Her face heated. How conceited was she? Well, maybe not conceited—hopeful.
Bad Bailey. No hope for you either.
He continued to stare at the table, his gaze traveling from one end to the other, not bothering to linger on her. Yep, so not about her…Maybe she should stop packing up her things so someone could fix Lucas a plate.
She drummed her fingers on the table as she waited. And waited. Why wasn’t anyone fixing the poor man a plate?
“He’s not staying here,” Brody shouted.
“That’s not your decision,” came their dad’s reply.
A chorus of voices became one big jumble.
Oh. That’s why. They were too busy arguing to notice how hungry he was. She didn’t know the brothers well enough to figure out why Brody in particular was so mad at Lucas while everyone else seemed genuinely happy to see him, if a little wary and unsure of what to do or say to him.
Quickly, she piled food on a plate and fixed a glass of iced tea. Yes, she had promised herself to stay away from bad boys like Lucas Lawson, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t show him some common decency.
She marched right up to him and said, “Come sit with me and eat.”
Lucas’s dark blue gaze slid over her. A hot wave of awareness washed over her body.
“Thank you, but—”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. You will sit and eat, but I won’t bother you. I’ll just finish packing up my things.”
He stared down at her, one dark brow rising, as if he couldn’t believe she’d spoken to him like that. She couldn’t believe she’d spoken like that, but she wasn’t exactly known for beating around the bush.
She waved the plate under his nose. “C’mon. You know you want some.” Yep, she was officially an idiot, but she couldn’t stop. “If you don’t, then I’ll be forced to feed you, and no grown man wants his brothers to see the airplane dive into his mouth.”
A hint of a smile kicked up the corners of his mouth as he took the plate from her. Their fingers touched, and she sucked in a breath. His gaze never left hers.
“Did you make all this?” he asked, his voice rough, like he’d spent years shouting.
She nodded, watching as he took a roll and dipped it in gravy. His eyes closed in pure pleasure, and a small moan tumbled from his mouth.
Everyone grew silent. Everyone stared. At them.
Clenching the glass of iced tea tighter, she stood right beside him and refused to move. There was no way she’d cower to them. She knew what it felt like to be looked at like that—a mixture of shock, pity, and anger.
Yes, Lucas had done wrong while she’d been done wrong, but it still hurt the same—no matter who was to blame. No one had ever stood with her when people had stared and whispered behind their hands about her. No one but her parents.
But even they’d been disappointed in her. She’d seen it with her own eyes. Dinah and Daniel Lawson were no exception.
“Can I have a fork?” Lucas asked softly. “I’m starving, but I’d rather not eat like the animal Brody always accused me of being at the dinner table.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” She rushed to the table, snatching up utensils and a napkin with her free hand. “Here you go. I already have your drink for when you’re ready.”
Smiling a little more, he moved to an empty table and sat down.
“I’ll take that,” Dinah said, joining her. Her cheeks were flushed. “You don’t have to sit with Lucas. He has enough family to keep him company, and you’ve outdone yourself today. I swear, Bailey Yates, I’m jealous of your chocolate pecan pie.”
Dinah wasn’t being mean or snippy, or even passive-aggressively letting Bailey know she wasn’t wanted. His mother was embarrassed that Bailey had taken care of Lucas before she had the chance.
“It’s not a problem, Mrs. Lawson.” Bailey gave her a smile. “I’m happy to sit with Lucas. Besides, I haven’t had any dessert. Y’all go ahead and finish that cornhole game. Tristan was winning, right?”
“No.” Austin, the NFL tight end, frowned. “He was cheating though.”
Tristan threw one of the cornhole bags and hit Austin in the head. “Now I’m winning.”
Bailey suppressed a laugh as the brothers got into an argument that didn’t involve the man she was marching to. Quiet as ever, he stared at her as she scooted past his mother and joined him.
“She’s right, you know.” He grimaced. “I don’t need pity either.”
“That’s not pity on your plate, Lucas. That’s my famous chicken casserole. Eat up.”
Once more, a smile ghosted on his face. “When did you become so bossy?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe when I became Leo’s mother.”
His fork paused halfway to his mouth. “You have a kid?”
“Yep. He’s four.”
Not missing his oh-so-subtle glance at her ring fingers, she went ahead and told him what he’d soon find out anyway. “Not married to his dad. He took off after I informed him about the pregnancy.”
Lucas didn’t say anything to her little reveal; he just kept eating. At first, he huddled around his plate, shoulders hunched, eyes up as he scanned the party.
“Promise I won’t steal your food,” she teased, and his gaze sliced to hers, hard and unyielding. She bit the side of her lip. “Too soon for jokes?”
“Say what you want.”
“How long have you been back in town?” And if that wasn’t the dumbest question of the century, she didn’t know what was. She’d seen him walk up the gravel road, though she didn’t have a clue who it was at the time. Despite the expensive suit and formerly nice shoes Lucas wore, he hadn’t arrived by limo.
“Not long.”
“You should have invited your ride to the house. I’m sure your momma would want to thank him. Or her.” Even with his travel-stained clothes an
d scraggly beard, Lucas was hot.
“Didn’t have one.” Carefully, he cut into the chicken casserole and took a bite, then placed his fork down by his plate. Then he repeated the motion.
Her jaw dropped, but she managed to snap it shut before he noticed. “You walked here?”
He nodded.
“Like all the way from prison?”
He nodded again.
My mercy. He had to be exhausted. “How long did it take you?”
“Can we talk about something else?” he asked.
Wincing, she patted his arm. His muscles bunched. Sweet Lord, his muscles bunched. “Sorry.” Frantically, she searched her head for another topic of conversation. “The weather’s been nice.”
He gave her an-are-you-kidding-me look.
“Well, it is,” she said a little defensively. “Summertime in the south is no joke, and it’s horrible for my hair. I have to spend hours straightening it.
“Okay, not hours, because I don’t have that much time with Leo and managing the diner, but seriously, it would take that long if I had the time.”
“Do you usually talk this much?” He gulped down some tea.
“Usually the people I talk to participate in the conversation,” she snapped.
He laughed. It sounded rusty, like he hadn’t had anything to laugh about in a long time.
That’s because he was in prison, dumb tail.
“Guess I deserved that,” he said and resumed eating.
“I’ll be back. I really didn’t get to have any dessert.” She jumped up from her seat and started for the buffet table.
“Thanks, Bailey,” he said and she turned a little to face him.
“For what—oh, the food.” She lifted a shoulder. “You were hungry. I made a plate for you. Simple as that.”
“No. Thanks for sitting and talking with me.”
Warmth buzzed through her. She knew what he meant. “Any time you need a meal and an ear, or for someone to do all the talking, come to the diner and I’ll hook you up.”
Chapter Two
‡
It was hopeless. No one would dare hire him.
Lucas trudged down Main Street, hands in his pockets, acutely aware of people staring at him. Of women who crossed to the other side of the street while they pushed strollers and talked to their best friends about him.
Thanks to the Jessamine Daily, everyone knew he was back in town.
It galled him that the paper would print that and not the fact that his brother was home from serving in Afghanistan—while recovering from wounds. But even he knew a criminal’s story would sell more papers than a hero’s.
He didn’t have the right to complain about being notorious. He sure hadn’t thought about being notorious when he’d worked for T&G Securities. Not when the money he’d brought in had made his bosses happy and earned him bonuses in amounts that could fund a small town.
Nope, forward thinking hadn’t been his best trait.
And now he was paying for it again.
The one thing about prison was that he never had to look his victims in the face again. He never had to talk to them, or apologize again, or even come home to face the dirty looks and gossip that permeated the air…until now.
His parents had, though, and his brothers. Every single member of his family had to deal with the ramifications of his actions.
If his mother could do it for the past five years, then he for dang sure could man up and take it.
“Lucas Lawson,” a woman breathed. “Heard you were in town.”
He stopped and stared at the blonde standing only a couple of feet away. She was tall, drop-dead gorgeous, and had a mouth made for sinning.
But she was too tall, too gorgeous, and her mouth wasn’t soft and pink. Or bossy and demanding.
It had taken only one meal with Bailey to confirm that what he’d thought about her was true. One week later, he still hadn’t gotten her out of his mind.
He hadn’t seen her either, despite the need to talk to someone and eat some chocolate pecan pie at Yates’ Diner.
“Apple McCoy.” He rocked back on his heels. Though he didn’t know how to talk to Bailey, he could find his voice with a woman like Apple. Mostly because she was the one who owned the Jessamine Daily and allowed that headline to go to print. “You knew I was in town, or do you make it a habit to print lies?”
She laughed, a tinkling sound that made quite a few heads turn. “I only print what is of interest to my readers. Without them, I’d have nothing but my daddy’s money.” She laid a perfectly manicured hand against her chest, the tips of her finger resting under the pearl necklace she wore around her neck. “Bless your heart for thinking of me.”
Which meant, he could take his insult and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. “You could have covered Mason’s homecoming.”
Apple tossed her head. “I wasn’t invited to the party. Can’t imagine why.”
He scratched his beard, the same one he’d trimmed instead of shaved. He kind of liked the look of it, and before Apple had printed that piece about him, he’d hoped it would give him a measure of privacy.
“Because the paper has turned into a gossip rag.” Okay, so he was quoting his parents on that one. He had no idea if that were true or not, or if they were merely defending him.
Her eyes narrowed. “Normally, I think everyone deserves a second chance, but you are definitely the exception.”
He didn’t say anything to that. One, he wasn’t about to get in an argument in the middle of downtown Jessamine. Two, she’d probably print something about their talk and misquote him.
“Nice to see you, Apple.” He moved to brush past her, but she grabbed his arm.
Without thinking, he jerked out of her grip and balled up his fist. “Don’t touch me,” he growled.
Sympathy mixed with fear flashed in her blue eyes. Damn it. That’s all he needed. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“It’s okay,” she said tightly and took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you. In any case, I wanted to talk to you about my very good friend, Bailey Yates.”
“Since when were you and Bailey very good friends?”
Apple waved her hand in the air. “We go way back. Sometimes, I even babysit her little girl—”
“Boy,” he corrected.
Her cheeks flushed, but she continued, “Henry.”
“Leo.”
“Right. Stay away from my very good friend. She doesn’t need someone like you sniffing around her.” She adjusted the pearls around her neck. “I have someone else in mind.”
With that, Apple flounced away, her pale hair bouncing around her shoulders like she was in a shampoo commercial.
“That was certainly interesting,” his brother Tristan said as he joined him. “You do know that she and Bailey aren’t friends.”
Lucas grunted. “What gave it away?”
His brother fell into step beside him as Lucas headed to the old farm truck his parents had loaned him. Though he had money in the bank, he wasn’t about to drive anything that would call attention to himself.
Hell, he didn’t want anyone to know he had money, or what he planned on doing with it.
That was, if anyone would give him a chance to do something with it.
“How’s the job search going?” Tristan asked.
Lucas shrugged. “It’s going.”
“Nowhere, right?”
“I guess.”
Tristan paused to shove some letters in the mailbox at the corner of Main and Poplar. “You could always come work for me.”
“I won’t get hired.” His lips thinned. “Former convict. The only criminals the county will allow to work for them are already in the political system.”
“Run for office, then,” his brother replied.
Lucas glared at his brother. “My personal life and the rest of you knucklehead have been dragged through the mud enough.”
Tristan smirked. “You’ve changed.”
“Y
ou haven’t.”
“I don’t know about that.”
Really, his brother wanted to play that game? Fine, he’d play. “You’re still bickering with Lemon.”
“Who wouldn’t bicker with that tart?”
Everyone in the entire town of Jessamine, that was who. But he knew his brother wouldn’t listen to reason when it came to the beauty queen.
“Still love books, tattoos, and women.”
“Guilty as charged.” Tristan grinned, his blue eyes glinting in the sun as he watched something happening behind Lucas. “But those are superficial things. Things that anyone with eyes can see.”
Lucas glanced over his shoulder in time to see Lemon McCoy cross her arms over her chest and glare, before tipping up her chin and turning away. He smiled. That glare wasn’t for him. “She’s the only woman who can’t stand you. Unless that’s changed.”
“No, that hasn’t changed at all.”
He turned his attention back to his brother and caught sight of something he’d never expected to see—undisguised longing. A need to have something he couldn’t.
“Know what? I think you’re right. You have changed, but you’re not ready for her to see it.”
Tristan jerked his gaze to Lucas, longing giving way to pure fury. “Excuse me?”
Lucas shook his head and clapped his brother on the back. It was strange to touch another man like this without worrying about repercussions or that it was an invitation he had no desire to RSVP to.
“Just admit it, the two of you love to hate each other.”
Tristan shrugged off Lucas’ arm. “We love nothing about each other. Anyway, I have to go back to work.”
Work. He had to get a job or else. “If I don’t get a job soon, I’ll be in violation of my parole conditions.”
Tristan paused. “I’ll see what I can do.”
A lump formed in Lucas’ throat without warning. It was dumb and embarrassing that he could get this choked up over a damn job. But, the truth was, he didn’t expect this kind of willingness to help him.
Love So True Page 2