Without missing a beat, though, Lucas responds with “That must suck. It’s gotta be hard not to have them around.” He continues to deposit the broken flowers into the trash and then moves to mop up water with some more towels I have stashed under the sink.
I’m stunned by his realness and how he doesn’t get all weird on me. So stunned, in fact, that I actually allow myself to admit out loud, “Yup. It really sucks. Part of me still hopes they can somehow see all I’ve done and where I live.” I glance around the messy kitchen. “Well, maybe not in the state it’s currently in, but you know what I mean.”
He pauses and looks directly at me for a moment before asking, “Do you really believe that they can? Still see you, I mean.” I stare right back at him, our eyes locked.
I’m startled by the sudden intense shift this conversation has taken. “I dunno. I guess I never really thought about it seriously.” I search his face to try and gauge what he’s getting at. “Why, what do you think?”
He gets that intense look again. “I don’t know.” Then, with a blink, Lucas breaks the moment and goes back to mopping up the remaining water. Not liking the heavy feeling in the air, I, too, return my focus to picking up more flowers.
After what feels like a profound moment of silence, he clears his throat and thankfully changes the subject. “So, do you always take off your clothes before you meet a guy, or am I just special?”
Jeez, this guy sure knows how to go from zero to flirty in a matter of seconds.
He grins at me from across the room and I blush at the memory of our very intimate introduction. Technically I guess it’s not the first time I saw him, but I’m not about to admit that and sound like a total creep, mooning over some guy before I even spoke to him.
I prefer to keep the mood light now, too. I’m not sure what came over me before. Talking about my parents is not something I do—not even with Kelley, let alone someone I just met. But I’ve decided I already really like playful Lucas, so it can’t hurt to indulge in a little harmless flirting.
“You’re special alright.” I chuckle and shake my head. “I’d hate to bruise your ego, but maybe I like to take my clothes off just for the fun of it. You happened to get a free show out of the deal, but in all fairness, I didn’t even know you were coming.”
He chuckles. “You’re killing me, Kins,” he whispers as he shakes his head. Then he looks up and says in the most sinful voice, “How about this—next time I promise to let you know before I come.” It’s more a promise than a question and I lose all feeling in my tongue. I really hope I don’t drool right in front of him. Thankfully, I’m a master at hiding my true emotions.
“Deal.” I unashamedly stare right back at him and give him my best flirty grin. This guy is good, and I’ll be damned if I don’t keep up and serve it right back to him. I’m definitely attracted to him and, from his confidence, I get the sense he’s the kind of person who could be up for a good time. No strings attached, of course, which is fine by me.
He crosses the room to pile up the dirty towels when he suddenly stops to look at a few paintings I have leaning against the wall.
He picks one up and examines it closely before asking in a quiet, curious voice, “Where did you get these?”
I shrug. “I found them in the crawlspace when I was cleaning up the other day. A previous tenant must have left them here, but I thought they were so beautiful I couldn’t bear to get rid of them. I thought I’d hang them up, I just need to get the right hardware to do it.”
The three paintings are all landscapes filled with colorful fields of flowers, which of course I found extremely fitting to display in my place. You can tell the artist was taking great care in painting each stroke to really show the details. They aren’t completely finished, and the corners are tattered and dirty, but something about their imperfection makes them even more beautiful to me.
Lucas gently puts the canvas he has in his hands back on the floor and takes a step back. For a second he looks startled, as if he’s just seen a ghost or something. But he quickly recovers and goes back to focusing on cleaning up.
After a minute he casually adds, “I could help you hang them up.”
That’s kind of . . . random. I mean what guy willingly does manual labor for a girl he barely knows?
Maybe he just feels obligated as my stand-in landlord, but I certainly don’t want any pity-help.
“It’s nice of you to offer but I’ve already taken up enough of your time. I can handle it, but thanks anyway.”
There, I’ve given him an easy out so he doesn’t have to be held accountable for me.
He shrugs. “I have some picture hooks at home so I’ll come by tomorrow.”
Apparently it’s not up for discussion.
I’m still down on the floor picking up the last of the flowers when he extends his hand toward me. Still holding onto a single flower, I reach up and place my hand in his as he helps me up to stand in front of him.
“I think that about does it. Place looks good as new, except for all your ruined flowers. At least this little guy looks to have made it out ok.” He gently caresses the petals on the stem in my hand and I find myself becoming jealous of a damn flower.
“Yeah, it’s a resilient little ranunculus,” I mutter, still staring at his hand.
“A what?”
I snap my eyes back up to his. “A ranunculus. That’s what kind of flower this is.”
“Ranunculus?” He says it more as a question, as if maybe he heard me wrong. I nod. “Wow, that’s . . . ridiculous.” He laughs and drops his hand. Damn.
“Hey, I didn’t come up with it. It may be a ridiculous name but it’s actually my favorite type of flower. The whorls of petals are so delicate and intricate, it’s like a complicated maze of layers that you could get lost in. Yet when you step back and look at it as a whole it makes something completely amazing and beautiful.” OK, so I totally just geeked out on a flower, but I can’t help it—I find them to be so beautiful and interesting.
I remember being about four years old picking flowers in my yard. We lived next to a meadow and all of these different wildflowers would grow. I would sit there for hours, picking one of each kind and pulling apart the stems and petals trying to figure out how something so beautiful magically appeared out of the ground.
I can feel my cheeks start to turn pink when Lucas looks at me with genuine understanding and says, “When you put it like that I think it just might be my favorite now, too.”
I extend the white blossom to him. “Then here. Why don’t you take this one?”
He hesitates for a beat before reaching out and gently taking the stem from me. “I think this is the first time a girl has ever given me a flower.”
“There’s a first time for everything, mister. Now don’t say I never gave you anything.”
“Damn, first I get to see you half naked and now you’re giving me presents. Kinsley, you might just be my new best friend.”
I keep my eyes trained on Lucas as he grabs his leather jacket. He flashes one last smoldering smile, accompanied by a suggestive wink, before heading for the front door. I trail behind him and watch from the entryway as he walks to his car. He gives a small wave as he ducks into the driver’s seat, and as I’m standing here smiling—and feeling pretty damn smug and proud of myself—I’m hit with a sudden realization.
Wait, did I just get friend-zoned?
Kinsley
“A little to the left. Now back to the right a smidge. Almost there . . . maybe a tad higher?”
“Jesus, woman. You’re kind of a perfectionist, aren’t you?”
I cross my arms. “Hey, you volunteered to help, remember?”
I was actually surprised when Lucas showed up this morning, toting two coffees and a box of donuts. Part of me thought I completely misread everything that happened yesterday. I thought it may have been just me that felt some sort of physical attraction, but he seems to be just as flirtatious this morning. He likes to tease me�
�a lot—but he has been very patient with my demands for the pictures to be perfect.
He stretches to keep his balance as he adjusts the largest of the paintings. “Well I didn’t realize it would be such an ordeal. You owe me big time, babe.”
Feeling bold, I answer, “I’m sure I can think of a few ways to repay you.”
For a split second he looks shocked that I said that, but smirks as he takes a step back so we’re standing side by side, both examining how all three canvases look together. I decided to put them right in the front room so they are one of the first things you see as you walk in.
Without taking his eyes off the paintings, Lucas says, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why do you care so much about these? I mean, they aren’t even finished.”
I shrug, arms still crossed. “I don’t know. I guess I like feeling some sort of connection to this place’s past. Whoever painted these had some sort of story to tell and I hate to think they didn’t get to finish it, that these were just forgotten in some dirty crawlspace. Maybe by my hanging them up it doesn’t seem so sad.” I laugh nervously when I realize I just admitted all that out loud. Thankfully, I stop myself before admitting my biggest fear is that I’ll open my heart up only to end up alone and forgotten, with nobody to care about how my story ends. No, better to keep my emotional distance, no matter how easy it is to share things with Luc. Instead I try to lighten the mood by asking, “Does that sound completely crazy?” I drop my arms and turn to look at his face, which suddenly seems very serious. It makes my insides turn to goo.
He turns to look back at me. “Maybe a little. But I like that.”
Our bodies seem to naturally shift a little closer together—so close I wonder if he can hear my heart beat faster in my chest. There’s something about this man that gets me worked up. I try to attribute it to my intense physical attraction to him. But there is a small voice inside my head that keeps whispering It’s different . . . you like him.
Shut up. No I don’t.
OK, maybe a little . . .
I find myself wanting to know more about him—where he works, what he likes to do for fun, where he comes from . . . but I have to stop myself from asking too many questions. I’ve already opened up more about myself than usual in the two short times we’ve interacted. Something about him is just so comfortable I can’t help it. But I need to keep myself in check. Getting to know each other isn’t important. Just hook up and get it over with so you can get him out of your head.
Just as I think he’s about to kiss me, we are both startled by the door.
It’s a client of mine here to discuss flowers for her wedding. She’s always about a half hour early, and while normally it doesn’t bother me in the least, today of all days I wish she could have just been on time.
Or even better, extremely late . . .
I lead her back into the sitting area where Lucas is gathering up his jacket and keys. Lucas and I both stand quietly, neither of us making a move to say goodbye. Finally I hear Brittany clear her throat and I realize how awkward this must seem. “Oh, uh, Brittany, this is Lucas.” I almost add ‘my friend,’ but decide against it. “Lucas, this is Brittany.”
“Nice to meet you.” Lucas smiles his usual charming, sexy smile at her, which makes her blush and giggle. I have to fight the urge to remind her she’s engaged, which is an odd, territorial reaction for me. But then Lucas looks back to me and says, “Well I guess I should get going.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Except I really just want to beg him to stay, which freaks me out even more.
“See you later, Kinsley.” And with that he saunters calmly out of the cottage.
Thankfully Brittany launches right into her most recent pile of photos and magazine clippings, stealing my attention away from what might have almost happened with Lucas.
Lucas
It’s been three days since I last saw Kinsley and I think I am losing my fucking mind. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve picked up my phone to call her, but then stopped myself when I realized I would probably end up sounding like a toolbag. I don’t want to come off as over-eager, so part of me hopes she will call me with another problem at the cottage just so I have an excuse to see her. And then I feel bad for wishing her to have problems. What a messed up sick and twisted roller-coaster of emotions.
The thing is, I just can’t get her out of my head. And it’s more than just being turned on by her, although that definitely plays a part. It’s like the moment I noticed her at the wedding something in me clicked on. I just can’t quite put my finger on what. And then when I had to come to her rescue with the sink incident?
Who am I kidding?
She sure as shit doesn’t need anyone to rescue her. All on her own, she’s fun, confident, sexy . . . and the way she flirts with me? Damn it if she doesn’t make me want to break my no sex streak.
But there’s more to my attraction than just the physical. There’s something deep and mysterious about her, yet at the same time I recognize a familiar guardedness. I can tell there’s more going on under the surface, and I want to know more about the girl inside. Nothing serious or anything, but I could see myself getting to know her in all sorts of ways . . .
“Earth to Lucas! Come on dude, where’s your head at?” Ryan punches me in the arm. We’re playing a two-on-two pickup basketball game in the park with our friends, Tristan and Logan, who also happen to be twin brothers.
“Sorry, man. Just thinking about some shit.” I try to focus as Tristan checks the ball to me and I send it back.
“What’s the matter? So much pussy that you can’t think straight?” Tristan teases.
No, there’s only one pussy in particular that has me confused . . .
“Yeah, we haven’t seen or heard much from you in a couple of days, so we assumed you were otherwise occupied,” Logan interjects with a wink. Much like Ryan, Tristan and Logan love to bust my balls. They are both big players—even by our group’s standards—often using the twin thing to their advantage. They don’t understand how I could willingly take a hiatus from the sex game, so they prefer to pretend I haven’t.
T passes the ball to Logan who then heads toward the basket where Ryan is waiting to block him. I stay back and hold my arm out to cover Tristan.
“Just busy at work. If you actually showed up half the time, you would know that, wouldn’t you?” I throw back at Logan, perhaps a little too much on the defensive.
Logan and I are also business partners for our company, GS Ventures, and we both live by the ‘work hard, play hard’ philosophy. We do our own thing so it’s not uncommon for us to be traveling or working from home. We each also do our fair share of taking time off, but the work always gets done. It’s really not fair for me to jab him like this, but hell, like I said I’m losing my mind.
“I bet this might have something to do with a certain new tenant of your father’s,” Ryan cocks his head to the side as Logan passes the ball to Tristan and he goes in for a layup. Swish. Another win for Team Trogan.
I bend at my waist with my hands on my knees, suddenly winded even though I didn’t exert myself much. Just thinking about Kinsley makes me feel short of breath. After a beat, I join the guys at the picnic table adjoining the basketball court and take a swig from my water bottle.
Ryan chimes in. “Come on, Luc. Last time we talked you mentioned helping out your dad’s new tenant, and then I didn’t hear from you for three days. I met Kinsley at the lease signing, and I have to say, she seemed intriguing. And your dad seems to have taken a liking to her, too, so spill.” Sometimes I swear Ryan talks to my dad more than me.
“What’s there to tell? Yeah, I went over to help her because she was having some trouble with the sink. She wasn’t wearing any pants, we joked, and I helped her clean up.” I try to act nonchalant, as if this sort of thing happens to me everyday. Jackass.
“Wait, what? Back that train up, man. Let’s start with her not wearing
any pants.” Tristan leans forward and rubs his hands together as if he can’t wait to hear this story. In fact, they all lean in. I sigh. Here we go.
“She called in a panic because the sink was leaking so I went over to help. She was soaking wet and had taken off her pants to get changed, not knowing I was coming over. I happened to walk in on her, but she was cool as fuck about it and we even exchanged some jokes about the whole thing. I helped her clean up the mess and hang some paintings and we got to talking.”
I try to explain it in a way that doesn’t make me sound like A. A jerk, or B. A sissy. “I don’t know, she’s fun and down to earth and it was nice to have an actual conversation with a girl. She makes me laugh. She’s also got her shit together and seems really independent. We became fast friends, that’s all.”
I look up from the water bottle I was subconsciously focusing on as I recounted the basic points of my time with Kinsley. Three sets of eyes stare back at me, and then Tristan bursts into a deep chuckle.
“Shit, Luc. You’ve got it bad for this chick, huh? Sounds like she’s got you pussy whipped already,” Tristan says through his amused laughs.
“Whatever, man. I just think she’s cool and fun to hang out with.” I lean back, avoiding eye contact.
Tristan rolls his eyes and mumbles “Yeah, OK.”
I can tell he’s not buying it, so I follow up with, “Well it doesn’t hurt she’s hot, either.”
OK, I know that makes me sound like an asshole, but I don’t feel like catching shit for this right now. I love these guys like brothers, but they aren’t exactly experts when it comes to relationships that require more than pure physical attraction. Now is not the time to bring up the fact that she gave me a flower, which was the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever been given.
Man, now I really do sound like a pussy.
Tristan continues to joke, which makes his brother laugh. Thankfully Ry has my back. “Maybe it’s about time we all try to find a woman that’s worth getting a bit more serious about. We can’t just fuck around forever, right?” He leans back as if he’s being chill about the whole thing, but I know him enough to understand he’s really saying that he approves of Kinsley and thinks I should go for it. We rarely have to spell out our feelings to each other. Bro code and all that. We have a subtle, mutual understanding. I nod back in response.
Crazy Beautiful (Crazy Beautiful #1) Page 4