Love So True

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Love So True Page 9

by Marquita Valentine


  A wave of happiness flowed through her, seeping into her heart and soul. For a moment, she just stayed in one spot, staring at the only two people in the world who made her heart beat like crazy. Wouldn’t this be something if Lucas stayed? If they became more…like a family.

  Oh, that’s crazy-talk, Bailey. Sure, you’ve known him forever, but he left Jessamine and turned into a man who committed a crime. You don’t know that guy. You know less than nothing about the man he became once he left home.

  Lucas caught her gaze, and she blushed at her turn of thoughts. It wasn’t decent of her to keeping thinking about his past. He’d paid the price. Now he was home and it felt like he was trying to do the right thing.

  Lord knew she could spot a man doing the wrong thing a mile away.

  He splashed water in her face.

  She shoved him again.

  Leo cheered.

  Surfacing, Lucas laughed and grabbed her and Leo, taking them down into the water with him.

  Most perfect day ever, she thought.

  *

  Lucas carried a sleeping Leo to Bailey’s sedan. Normally, he would have driven her, but with the whole car seat/booster seat…whatever it was called that they had to strap her son into, he figured her car would be better.

  Bailey opened the door, and he bent down to gently place him in the seat. He took one look at all the straps and buckles, backed right out of the car, and said, “I’m going to leave the rest to the experts.”

  Bailey nodded, a shy smile on her face. “I’ll take care of his seatbelt.”

  Once she was done, she slid in the passenger seat and he drove them home. They had been in the water so long that he still had the sensation of being in it.

  “The roasted hot dogs were a big hit with Leo. So were the S’mores,” she said. “We’ve never done that before.”

  Keeping one hand on the wheel, he reached for hers. He loved how their fingers laced together. “Growing up, that was a standard Friday night meal. Dad would project a movie on the side of the barn and we’d watch it, gorging ourselves on hot dogs and S’mores until we puked. Like, literally puked.”

  “Sounds appetizing,” Bailey said.

  “Yeah, but it gave my mom the night off. That seemed really important to my dad—to do stuff like that for her.”

  “My parents always worked together at the diner. I don’t remember my dad giving her the day off, but I don’t remember him just taking off for a boys’ night either. When I came along, they set up a nursery in the office,” she said. “Some of my earliest memories are cooking on the griddle in the back.”

  “Why don’t you cook now?” he asked, genuinely curious. He’d seen her make menus, sample dishes, and help out in every part of the diner, but he’d never seen her on the line.

  “Truth?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t like to cook.” He glanced at her in disbelief. She grinned. “I know. That sounds wrong for someone who manages a diner, but I seriously hate to cook. I love to bake desserts, though. But that doesn’t count as far as I’m concerned. Plus, growing up, I was never fast enough for the line.”

  “According to who?”

  “My parents—who else?”

  Now it was all making sense. Her parents had made her feel inferior while she cooked. So, she had finally stopped. “Hate to cook or not, I love it when you feed me.”

  “Thanks,” she said softly and squeezed his hand.

  All too soon, he turned into her driveway and headed to the right of his truck to park her car. “Want me to help you get Leo inside?”

  Letting go of his hand to trace a pattern on the seat, she peered up at him through long, black lashes. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  His heart pinged. After today and all the days before now, she didn’t trust him with her son? “Why?”

  “Because I’ll want more than a good-night kiss if you do, and Leo’s not ready to see you in the morning—unless it’s at the diner.” She looked away, as if she was afraid to see his reaction.

  That made perfect sense, and even if it didn’t, he would have still respected her wishes. But at least this explanation didn’t make him feel so lacking.

  “I’m not pushing this,” he assured her. “This is your timetable. I love hanging out with Leo, make no mistake, but I’m not going to make anyone uncomfortable.”

  Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes shining in the glow of the dash. “I think that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Damn if he didn’t want to keep saying the most romantic things to her because when she looked at him like that…all soft, sweet, and like he’d hung the moon just for her…she made his chest all tight.

  She made him feel loved.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‡

  Lucas sat on Bailey’s sofa, her head resting on a pillow in his lap as he massaged her temples. “Any better?” he whispered.

  “Some. Only a dull throb is left,” she replied just as softly, struggling to sit up. “I need to go check on Leo.”

  He gently held her in place. “He’s asleep in his bed, safe and snug. Besides, it’s almost eleven PM. Weren’t you the one who said that once he’s down for the night, he’s out?”

  “Yes,” she said with a sigh. Her lashes fluttered. “Thank you for going to all the trouble you did this afternoon and taking care of everything. I can’t believe I got so sick. I’ve never had a migraine before.”

  “It was no trouble at all. You were sick. Your parents are out of town. Naturally, you’d go with me as a last resort,” he teased. “By the way, Leo liked having man bedtime. Way more fun than Mommy bedtime because he didn’t have to take a bath. Superman rules for the win.”

  She stuck out her tongue at him. He tried to catch it between his fingers. Eyes still closed, she managed to scowl at him. “Leave my tongue alone.”

  “But it’s a very nice tongue.”

  “You’re only saying that because I can do things with it that make you cry.”

  “Cry out for mercy.” His fingers traced the upper swells of her breasts. “While you were sleeping, I read that one of the lesser known but highly effective treatments for migraines were orgasms.”

  This time, her eyes snapped open. “Tell me more, Dr. Lucas.”

  He grinned, loving how she always responded to him and his flirtations that usually got out of hand. “I’m not sure words are the best way to demonstrate this underused technique. Application seems to be key.”

  “I’m all about applying yourself,” she said.

  He smoothed his hand down her shirt and inched up the hem, revealing a golden slice of smooth skin. Deftly, he untied her pajama bottoms and made the waistband loose enough for him to go under.

  As soon as his fingers found her core, she moaned. He teased her clit, brought her to the edge again and again as her breasts rose and fell under her tank top. Her nipples hardened, and he wanted them in his mouth so bad that he almost stopped what he was doing to give in to that biting need.

  But this was all about Bailey. All about making her feel better.

  He slid two fingers inside of her wet heat, and she whimpered in her throat. Using his thumb, he circled her swollen clit, teased it until her hips were moving in time with his fingers.

  “Come for me,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her.

  She cried out and he drank in the sound, continuing to pleasure her. He didn’t want to stop, never wanted to go home to his empty apartment. All he wanted in life was in his arms and moaning his name as she trusted him to take care of her.

  For a man who hadn’t been trusted with anything in the past five years, he knew what a gift he’d been given. Hell, even if he’d been trusted with the keys to Fort Knox, that couldn’t compare to the gift of trust she’d given him over past three weeks.

  He would never do anything to jeopardize that.

  Bailey’s beautiful brown eyes blinked up at him, all sleepy and sated. Her lips curved into a sm
ile. “I think that actually worked. Thanks, Dr. Lucas.”

  “Any time, and if you should ever need my services again, you know where to find me.”

  “Craig’s List Horny White Guy Section? I thought we were going steady?”

  “We are going steady. Try again, smart-ass,” he said, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Can’t think of anything, can you? Here’s one—Desperate Mommy Seeks end to Migraine through Unconventional Methods. Orgasm-inducing fingers need only apply?”

  “Wow. I’m impressed,” she said with a little grin.

  “Thought that was pretty good myself,” he admitted.

  Touching his cheek, she rubbing the closely shaven beard he’d started growing back just for her. She almost had him purring. “You are pretty good. In fact, I’d say you were amazing.”

  Yeah, he was never going to let anyone separate him from that kind of affection.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‡

  Though his personal life with Bailey and Leo was growing stronger and stronger every day, his relationship with Brody had become downright intolerable.

  Tonight especially as they ate dinner together in his parents’ dining room. At first, he’d been disappointed that Bailey and Leo couldn’t come because she’d already agreed to have dinner with her parents. Since they couldn’t be in the same place at once, and the dinners were at the exact same time, she’d told him that she and Leo would go another time. And she expected him to come to dinner at her parents, too.

  “Check your china cabinet before Lucas leaves tonight. Might want to frisk him, too,” Brody said as he leaned back in the dining room chair. “Oh, wait—that’s not his style. Quick everyone, check your account balances.”

  And that was why he should have gone with Bailey.

  Tristan peered at Brody over his book, just like he had always done when they were kids. “You are boorish, and you’re ruining my enjoyment of the latest Stephen King novel.”

  Their mother shuddered. “That book gave me the creeps. Aren’t you worried about sleeping at night?”

  “Not really,” he drawled. “I had to spend an hour in Lemon McCoy’s company. That’s enough to give anyone nightmares. Thought I’d cure it with King.”

  Lucas shook his head and kept eating his peas. The less he said, the better.

  “As if there’s any other kind of Lemon for you?” Mason said, stunning them all into silence.

  “It’s a miracle. He speaks,” Tristan snapped. “Now shut up.”

  “You shut your face,” Mason replied glibly. Lucas’ gaze narrowed in on the thermos his younger brother had by his plate. Always, he had that damn thing with him.

  “Witty repartee, Mase,” Tristan replied.

  Mason grimaced. “You were in the fucking Marines. Talk like it.”

  “Mason Lawson,” their dad said. “You will not speak like that in front of your mother, no matter how much of a know-it-all your brother sounds like.”

  “Thanks…” Tristan began and then made a come-on face. It was amazing how they turned into kids around their parents, especially when their parents called them out on their asinine behavior. “Really, Dad. I’m supposed to use—what? Two handclap words—for the cripple?” He clapped to demonstrate.

  Mason shot to his feet, wobbling a bit. “I’ll show you cripple, you punk ass book boy. My cripple assed-leg can kick your dumb one all over Jessamine.”

  Tristan shot to his feet, as did he and Brody. Only, he didn’t know whose side he was supposed to be on. Growing up, he’d always backed up whoever Brody supported.

  “Sit down,” their dad ordered without raising his voice.

  Immediately, the four of them sat. Caleb, always quiet, continued to eat as if nothing had happened. But, that was his way. Always watching, always assessing. Lucas had never been close to him or Adam—the oldest of all the brothers, but he knew he could count on his brothers for anything.

  “This is Lucas’ fault,” Brody began, but he shut up with one look from their mother. “Too bad Austin couldn’t be here. I know he would enjoy your home cooking.”

  Well, Lucas used to know he could count on them for anything. He shook his head. He was done and over it. If Brody wanted to keep treating him like an outcast, then fine, but he wasn’t going to sit here and take his crap.

  “Thanks for dinner, Momma.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss. “Dad. I’m going to turn in for the evening.”

  Taking his plate to the kitchen, he rinsed it off and placed it in the dishwasher, then headed for the barn.

  Footsteps sounded behind him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Of course Brody would have followed him. “To my apartment, like I said.”

  “Why—so you can hop on the Internet and defraud more people out of their money? Or does living here for free give you some perverse pleasure?”

  Pivoting, Lucas grabbed his brother by the collar and shoved him against his truck. “I’m done with your bullshit. I paid for my crime. I have a paying job, and I work for my room and board.”

  Brody didn’t try to fight him. “That doesn’t mean anything. You stole from them, Lucas. Have you even tried paying them back?”

  Actually, he’d already paid them back. They were the first people he’d given a check to before he started down his literally paying people back what they’d given him road. They just didn’t know it.

  “How long?”

  “What?”

  “How long are you going to hold this over me? I want a date. I want to know when I get my brother back. The one who taught me how to be a man.”

  “Obviously, I did a piss-poor job.”

  Sydney was right. Brody was angry with himself more than anyone else, and he didn’t know what to do except take it out on Lucas.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know it’s not.

  “It’s not your fault. You didn’t make me choose a different path than you. I made the choice.”

  Brody’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he knocked Lucas’ hands away. “Doesn’t change the fact that you have a lot to make up for in this town.”

  “No, it doesn’t, but you have no control over what I do. It’s not for you to decide when I deserve to be treated like a human being. And it also means that you don’t need to play hero to make up for what you perceive as my shortcomings either. Don’t do stupid shit just because you’re mad the prodigal son returned.”

  His brother’s face paled. “I would never do that to Sydney. We have a baby on the way.”

  “Good. Keep that in mind the next time you decide to go into a burning building without back up.” Lucas strode to the barn and slammed the door shut behind him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‡

  That Monday morning at work, Bailey pulled Lucas into her office as soon as he walked through the back door.

  “Missed you,” she breathed, leaning in and up on her tiptoes for a kiss.

  He cupped her face. “I missed you, too.” His lips brushed tenderly over hers, not what she expected after not seeing him since Saturday night. “How’s Leo?”

  “He’s good.” She gave Lucas a mock glare. “He also lectured me about how I don’t do bedtime right. So thanks for that.”

  He winced. “Sorry. How about the next time you need me to help with bedtime, we combine our forces?”

  Combine our forces? Did everything he said have to be swoon-city for her? “Sounds like a plan. Speaking of plans…I’ve been asked to host a pancake supper for the town’s Heroic Hearts Charity.”

  “That’s amazing news.”

  She laughed. “You have no idea what Heroic Hearts is.”

  “Not a clue,” he replied just as excitedly.

  Reason number one billion why she was falling. He was genuinely happy for her even when he had no idea why he should be. “It’s a charity that supports families who have to go away for cancer treatment. Pays their bills at home, provides lodging and m
eals…it’s…I can’t imagine needing it, but I love that it exists to fill a need.”

  “Sounds like my kind of charity. When I worked for T&G Securities, we went to those things all the time. But, not for pancakes. More like caviar and—” He glanced away, obviously ashamed to share that part of his past.

  She framed his face with her hands and turned it toward her. “It’s okay to talk about your past. I won’t judge you. Even evil corporations aren’t all the way bwahahaha evil.” He gave her a pointed look, and she sighed. “Okay, so some are so evil that even the Devil is like, whoa guys, that’s pretty darn evil. Chill.”

  He laughed. “That’s one way to look at them.”

  “My point is that you’re not defined by your past. You’re not even the same guy anymore. You’re Lucas Lawson, steady guy of Bailey Yates and all-around-jack-of-all-trades.”

  “Best job title I ever had,” he said gruffly.

  “And to prove to you that I’m so trusting of that Lucas Lawson, I want you to head up the financial side that night. I’ll have my hands full with managing operations, so I need a guy I can count on.”

  “Bailey,” he said softly.

  “Lucas, you’re my guy.”

  *

  Two days later

  It could be worse, he supposed as he handed out tickets in exchange for a fifteen dollars. He could be in charge of personally asking people for money to invest.

  Oh, wait. He’d already done that.

  “Did you know that just this morning, I found a check for $10,500.61 in my door?” a woman said.

  His ears perked up. He leaned to one side to see who was talking.

  “How about that?” the woman’s friend said.

  “Strangest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Who writes a check for that much without rounding up?”

  “Communists.”

  Lucas blinked. Okay, so not exactly what he thought Mrs. Anderson would say, but at least she’d gotten his delivery.

  A familiar blonde sailed right to the front of the line, holding up her press pass and smiling as she went. The line of people parted for her like the Red Sea.

 

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