Dreaming of a Hero (Heroes Series Book 2)

by Lyssa Layne

  “Nope, it’s still man-boobs Bob, and he was here yesterday,” she calls back. I’m guessing from the kitchen, so I head that way.

  “There you are.” I’m slightly out of breath by the time I find her. “If it’s not man-boobs Bob, whose big-ass truck is in my spot?”

  Pru’s brow crinkles for a second, her wispy blonde bangs brushing her forehead. In all the years I’ve known her, those damn bangs have always been there. “I told him not to park there.” She shakes her head. “I swear, it doesn’t matter how old they get, kids still only ever hear half of what you tell them.”

  I’m totally not following. “One of the girls get a new boyfriend, what?”

  Pru stares back at me blankly, a hint of her usual superiority reminding me she still thinks I’m an idiot half of the time. We’ve never been close, but we’ve moved past the point of simply tolerating each other for the sake of the one thing tying our otherwise polar opposite families together. Our niece, Madi. “When is the last time we talked? Lucas is home. Got back on Sunday. That’s his truck in your spot.”

  “Oh.” I clear my throat, trying to dislodge the fist-sized ball of anxiety that just leapt to my tonsils. I haven’t seen Lucas in five years. Not since my father passed away. Not since he stayed with me during what turned out to be the most pivotal moment of my life. But none of that matters. All that matters is that Lucas is Pru’s son. And he’s home. And I’m happy for her.

  “I could have sworn I told you this.” She shakes her head, probably at me. Because I can’t remember things. Only this, this I definitely would have remembered.

  “How long is he home for this time?” My pitch is unnaturally high. I’ll need to fix that before I open my mouth again.

  She smiles and it’s the happiest I think I’ve ever seen her. “For good. He’s home for good.”

  I’m such an ass. Why am I still standing here? “I am the worst ever. Seriously, Pru. I feel like such a jerk. Why am I even here? I shouldn’t be here. I should collect Madi and get out so you can relish the feeling of having your oldest kid back under your roof, safe and sound, and definitely without any silly interruptions from me.” She hasn’t had that in ages. Not since he up and left with the Army almost seven years ago. Two deployments and years of being stationed overseas later, I can’t even imagine what it would be like to finally have him home again.

  I head for the door to the living room just as it swings open and nearly hits me right in the face.

  “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” A strong hand paired perfectly with the deep smooth sound of his voice, grabs my elbow just as I tumble backward.

  “No, it’s fine. Really.” I quickly shake my arm from his grip. I don’t know why, but I have a sudden sense I need to hightail it for the back door and race from the premises before something bad happens. And I don’t mean bad like getting hit in the face by a door. I mean really bad. Get arrested for it bad. “Hey, Lucas.”

  “Liv! I had no idea you were here. Why the hell didn’t anyone say something?” Given the fact that I’ve shoved both hands into my pockets and out of his reach, he wastes no time in wrapping me up in a hug I seriously should have seen coming. He ambushed me with one last time I saw him as well.

  “I told you she’d show up sooner or later to pick up Madi.” Pru comes up beside us, still drying her hands with her dish towel, and it occurs to me I never did find out what she was doing in here when I arrived.

  “Yes, and speaking of Madi, I should find her so we can get out of here.” I try to make my way for the door once more and this time it’s Pru who catches my elbow.

  “Don’t be crazy. You’re practically family.”

  I’m not. I’m really not. And never in my life have I felt as strongly about this very important detail as I do right at this moment. Standing here, ogling her son, who is absolutely too young for me, but who I am most definitely not related to.

  “Um, okay,” I say, still trying to find a way out but not really seeing one. “If you’re sure.” She seems to be because she’s already walking me back toward the island, leading me straight for a barstool to take my seat.

  “Of course I’m sure. Coffee?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. There’s no need to. I always want coffee. And outside of the girls at the shop, Pru’s pretty much the only other adult I see these days, which is weird if you think too much about it, so I don’t. Point being, she knows I want coffee.

  Meanwhile, Lucas is standing catty-cornered from me, a bottle of water in his hands while he stares at me, making no secret of it, by the way.

  “Is it my hair? Did it do something crazy in the near collision?” It does that sometimes. There’s a lot of it, and it’s curly. There’s no controlling anything that happens up there so I’ve adapted the whole out of sight out of mind approach when dealing with it.

  He smirks. “I don’t think it had anything to do with our near collision.”

  Oh, good. Still the same old smartass he was before. I guess I can draw some sense of comfort from that.

  I fight the urge to reach up and pat down the tsunami waves of curls on top of my head, and instead return his stare.

  “Is…is it my hair?” He feigns concern as he softly taps the top of his head, touching his nearly non-existent fuzz. I’m guessing it’s been a week since he shaved it last. Two weeks tops.

  “It is, actually. Or, it was. I think it all got scared and took off.”

  He smirks just as his mother comes up behind him, reaching her hand for his head and running her palm over his stubble.

  “I can’t wait until it all grows back. I swear, for a boy, he has the prettiest hair. I used to let it grow out when he was little; it was so lovely.” A reminiscent gaze washes over her and she smiles warmly.

  “I bet you loved that.” I grin at Lucas who is being an exceptionally good son right now and silently tolerating his mother’s trip down memory lane.

  “It was grand. I still say a daily prayer of thanks that Hailey was born before I started school.” He finally shrugs out of her embrace and starts moving toward the row of barstools lined up next to me.

  “I can only imagine.” I feel weird. This bantering back and forth. I mean, it’s what we’ve always done, but somehow now it feels different. Not to mention, joking with Pru’s son right in front of her is making me paranoid it could be misinterpreted as flirting. And I’m definitely not doing that. Which I’m sure everyone else in the room knows. Except for me.

  “Speaking of having daughters, any idea where the girls are?” I haven’t seen Madi since she left for school this morning, but that’s pretty standard during the week. I see her off in the a.m. and then track her down here sometime before dinner. Or, as of late, after. Pru and her family have been a godsend in that department, filling in while I’m stuck at the shop. Knowing my seventeen-year-old is safe and hanging with her besties is about as content as a parent slash aunt can get in lieu of actually being present.

  “Passed them on my way in here. They were headed to the pool. Ash made a big announcement about doing homework out there, so I’m guessing it’s not done…and they’re not doing it.” He busies himself screwing the cap back on his now empty water bottle, but I can tell he’s fighting back a smile. “Also, the Dennison’s grandson is next door mowing the lawn with his shirt off.” And there’s the real reason.

  “Those little hornballs.” Not that I’m judging. I’m just aware, trying to ride that fine line between letting girls be girls and preventing an early onset of grand-motherhood, or grand-aunt- hood. I’m never sure where we land with the terminology there. I mean, I’m the only parental figure the kid’s got left, but there are no good words for aunt who doubles as mother who really only stumbled into the role five years ago.

  “I guess we should be grateful they’re in our own backyard while they drool over half-naked men from a distance.” Pru stifles a laugh by having a sip of her coffee.

  I’m trying hard not to giggle myself. “Am I the only one who
wants to go spy on them right now?”

  Pru’s headed for the family room before I even finish and I’m hot on her heels. From in here we have a clear shot of the girls out on the pool deck, as well as the neighbor’s backyard and the twenty-one-year-old man-child riding his tractor mower thing back and forth.

  “Well, can’t say I blame them. Look at that kid. He’s definitely been working out.”

  “Okay, that’s gross, Ma.” I didn’t even realize Lucas had followed us in here.

  “I’m with your kid on this one. I mean, he has muscles like a man…and he’s cute…but he’s like…twelve.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lucas staring again and it makes me uneasy. Probably because in my mind, men only stare at women like that for one reason. But he’s not a man, he’s Pru’s son, and to him, I’m likely an old lady now, so I’m feeling stupid for even thinking about it one way or the other.

  Lucas

  It’s weird seeing them together. Liv and my mother, getting along. Even now, they couldn’t be any more different from each other if they tried. Where my mother never has a single one of her blonde hairs out of place, Liv may or may not even own a brush. The way her raven colored curls seem to be loosely piled on top of her head, I’m guessing she styled it by hanging her head out of the window while driving. And I’m not knocking it. It looks fucking hot. Like, I want to run my fingers through it and get them stuck there hot.

  The small cluster of flowers she has tattooed at the corner of her left eye are a new shade of purple. At first I didn’t notice because it was covered by her wild hair, but as soon as she pulled a few strands back and tucked them behind her ear, the ink was undeniable. And sexy as hell.

  Then there’s the way they dress. My mom is exceptionally conservative. Add to that, my father makes more money than God, so everything she owns is worth a small fortune. Expensive clothes have a way of looking restricting and uncomfortable. Ironically. And therefore, my mother always looks slightly restricted. And uncomfortable.

  Not Liv. She may as well be dressed in sweats the way she’s casually moseying about in her jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt. There’s a sense of freedom about her. She was missing it last time I saw her, but it’s back now. It’s so intense, I almost envy her for it.

  “I think maybe you two need to go back to the kitchen before anyone sees you. I don’t think Andrew will mind being checked out by a couple of cougars in heat, but Ash and Madi will definitely have a problem with it.”

  My mother’s expression is pained. “Did you just call me a cougar in heat?”

  “Ma,” I shake my head, “He’s younger than I am.”

  Liv’s nose crinkles at my comment, but she remains silent. She’s always done this: internalized her thoughts. It makes me want to find her buttons and push them. See what I can make her say out loud. Always has, only now I finally have the balls to do it.

  “Huh. He wasn’t when you left.” My mother shrugs but willingly lets me herd her back to the kitchen.

  “Ma, that doesn’t even make any sense.”

  “It kind of does,” Liv offers her perspective. “You were eighteen when you left, and in mom years, you stay locked there until you come back. Meanwhile, Andrew didn’t even come into existence until he was of age; therefore, he was never younger than you, and in fact has been older than you for quite some time. Until now.”

  I stand corrected. She talks plenty now. Just about random shit that contains literally no logic or reason.

  “Well, there you have it. And that’s why you two are finally friends. You’re both nuts.” I linger in the doorway, unable to decide if I’m coming or going now that they’re back in the kitchen and at a safe distance from the girls and Andrew.

  Liv eyes me for a second, then turns toward my mother, starting a new conversation about my sister and Madi’s new softball coach and her dislike of the new practice times. As much as I’d like to, I know I don’t have shit to add here, so, I turn and walk out. I can’t help but feel like that was her intention all along.

  I get halfway down the hall when I decide I’m not letting her get rid of me that easily. I haven’t patiently waited the last five years for this moment to come creeping along just to let her blow me off the way she always does. I’m not a fucking teenager anymore. It’s about damn time she realizes that.

  Marching back toward the kitchen with a stubborn sense of determination, I nearly collide with her a second time.

  “Shit, Lucas. Didn’t they teach you how to watch where you’re going in the army?” She stumbles backward, clearly flustered by our near crash.

  I lean in automatically, reaching out to steady her, and the scent of her shampoo hits me. Before I know it, I’m breathing in violet and pomegranate along with something sweet I can’t begin to define because the combination of scents and her close proximity is literally obliterating every thought in my brain.

  “Uh.” Shit. Say something. “You smell really fucking good.” Not that. Don’t say that.

  Instantly, she steps back and takes her tantalizing aroma with her.

  “Um. Thank you?” Her hands begin to fidget at her stomach. “That was weird.”

  “It was.” I nod, my head clearing rapidly now that I’m no longer being drugged by her scent. “I’m sorry. It’s just…been a while…since I smelled a woman?” Pretty sure that didn’t make it any less weird.

  Her mouth twitches momentarily before moving into a lopsided grin. “Turn around, Lucas. Go back down the hall. Hang around your sister’s room. The one that’s twenty. She has friends over all the time, all of whom I’m sure would love to let you smell them.”

  I glance down at the tile floor sheepishly. “I’ll give that a shot then. Thanks.”

  So much for taking charge and letting her know I’m the kind of man she should take seriously now. I knew she’d never make it easy, but damn, I was really counting on her at least being left with a lingering impression of the last night we spent together before I left last time. It’s certainly been with me ever since. And so has she.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Heartbreaker

  I haven’t been back to see Pru in over a week. She’s called me several times to check in, and each time I’ve skirted the issue. I’m avoiding her house. No. I’m avoiding what now lives in her house. And so far, it hasn’t been too hard. Work is always an easy out, and on days like today, when we have back to back appointments, no one is surprised when I text Madi and suggest she invite herself to dinner at the McNealys’.

  “You gonna stare at that calf all day or you gonna put some ink on it?” Mouth is hovering over my shoulder, breathing down my neck. She’s so freaking close I can feel the drawstring of her hoodie tickling the back of my bare shoulder.

  “Would you back the fuck up? I’m trying to work here.”

  She smirks but takes a step back just the same. “Is that some new laser tattoo technique you’re developing? Where you can sear it into his skin via your death ray eyeballs?”

  Suddenly, Dallas, the guy who’s getting the new ink, pops his head up to stare back at us, an unexpected panic flashing in his eyes. “It’s the mole isn’t it?! It’s cancer. I knew it.”

  I shake my head, laughing. “Dude, I’m not your fucking dermatologist, so I really can’t say. But if you’re worried about this splotchy little number above your ankle, I can tell you I’ve seen some sketchier shit than that and been told the doc cleared it as perfectly normal.”

  “Damn, woman. If it’s not cancer, what’s the hold up?” I’d say Dallas is about a year and a half out from being one hundred percent covered in art, and about ninety percent of what he already has is my work, so he’s allowed to talk to me like that. And he knows it. That’s key right there. I’d let a lot of people mouth off to me, ‘cause frankly, I can take it. Just most people don’t realize they’d get away with it.

  “I know what her problem is,” Princess pipes up from the station across from me. “I’ve seen that expression before. Girl�
�s got cock face all the way.”

  I drop the hand that’s been hovering with a needle over Dallas’s flesh for the last five minutes into my lap. “I’m sorry, what now? What the hell is cock face? And I’m only asking for curiosity sake. I can tell you without knowing, that cock face is most definitely not what I’m dealing with.”

  “No, I think she’s right.” Mouth nudges me from behind with her elbow. “Who is he? Whose dick is turning your brain to mush and giving you that blank, braindead expression?”

  Cock face. I get it now. I swear, these girls are so fucking crass, sometimes I think they all grew up in the same truck stop.

  “You guys are all out of your minds. The only dick around here I ever think about is Marcus and that’s just because he won’t fucking disappear. Now if you all don’t mind, I’d like to close up shop sometime today so I can see my kid before she goes to bed tonight.”

  I shake my shoulders dramatically because I can feel Mouth inching her way over again. She leans back briefly to avoid being hit and then dips her head down next to mine again to whisper, “It’s cool, girl. You can tell us who he is later.”

  I press my lips together tightly, clenching my jaws to keep from saying anything else, and then finally, get started on the ridiculous SpaghettiOs tat Dallas ordered up today. Apparently it’s some sort of homage to his grandmother and the Sunday afternoons he spent with her as a kid. Personally, I think he could have done better than canned macaroni, but then Dallas isn’t all that advanced in the sentimental department.

  It takes less than five minutes before I’m completely engulfed in what I’m doing, the hum of the needle suddenly powerful enough to drown out the entire world. I like that. I learned a long time ago I could zone in on it and completely forget about everything else around me. Today the effect is not as permanent as I’d like it to be, and I continue to notice Mouth traipsing past every fifteen minutes or so to watch me.