by Jessie Evans
And then she slid into an open spot across from Brandon, gave him a big smile, and let the music take her away.
Lucy had been accused of being many things in her life—eccentric, quirky, prone to rashes after eating strawberries, and just plain odd in her thoughts and habits—but an inhibited dancer had never been one of them. She danced like the devil was playing his fiddle just for her, like the world was about to end and her life depended on giving her body up to the music and letting the sparks of her soul fly out her fingertips as she dipped and writhed and spun.
At first, Brandon didn’t seem to know quite how to take her unbridled enthusiasm, but after a few moments he began to mirror her movements, getting into the groove nearly as much as she was. He was—surprisingly—an amazing dancer, and moved with a confidence and control she wouldn’t have expected in a man of so few words.
But so far Brandon was full of surprises, and proving to be way more interesting than she’d given him credit for.
By the time the first song ended and another began, they were moving in harmony. By the end of the second song, Lucy was giggling with the joy that came from letting loose, and by the end of the third song—when the band broke into a bluesy ballad—she was ready to step into Brandon’s arms.
She went to him, threading her fingers together behind his neck, smiling up into his gray-blue eyes as his arms went to her waist and pulled her close.
“You’re a great dancer,” he said, only slightly out of breath. “Really amazing.”
“Thanks, you too,” she said, panting, deciding she needed to add jogging to her list of things to get back to doing on a regular basis. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah?” Brandon’s pale brows lifted, but his expression remained guarded.
Lucy nodded. “I’ve been thinking about what you asked me yesterday and…you were right. I was discriminating, and that was a jerk move.”
Brandon lifted one broad shoulder, making Lucy aware of the thick muscles beneath his black tee shirt. “It’s okay. I may be six years younger than you are, but I’m a big boy, Lucy. We can still be friends. It’s no big deal.”
“But what if I…don’t want to be friends?” Lucy said, heart slamming against her ribs, this getting-back-to-living stuff scarier than she’d thought it would be.
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…maybe eating pizza together sounds like a good idea, after all.”
Brandon blinked, watching her for a long moment before his lips curved gently. “Oh. Okay. Well…I like you, and I like pizza, so…”
Lucy smiled. “So you’ll give me another shot at that date?”
“On one condition,” he said, his eyes smokier than they were a moment before.
“What’s that?” Lucy met his gaze, awareness tickling through her belly for the first time in over a year.
In black skinny jeans, purple converse, and a faded Heart concert tee, she was the least dressed up of the members of the bachelorette party, but you wouldn’t know it from the way Brandon was looking at her. He looked at her like she was something special, like she was five foot two inches of cool lemonade and he a man with a lemon and sugar fetish.
“We seal the deal with a kiss,” he said, leaning down until their faces were only a few inches apart.
But he was so much taller than she was, there was no way he’d be able to get that kiss without her cooperation. Lucy was going to have to play her part.
Before she could second-guess the wisdom of making out with a guy in front of her bosses and half his work buddies, Lucy pushed up onto tiptoe, sneakers squeaking as she brought her lips to Brandon’s.
The moment their mouths connected, she knew this hadn’t been a mistake. Her first taste of him made her heart flutter, her second made her feel like the north end of a magnet finding its southern pole, and the third made her soul feel like it was shooting out rays of light.
She felt connected to the world and everything in it, a part of the seamless dance of life and death in a way she hadn’t been since she shut down the part of herself that had always made her feel empathy with creation. But now, she was back in tune and humming on the perfect frequency.
Kissing Brandon was more than wonderful or sexy or right. It was all of those things, but it was also a confirmation kiss, a kiss unlike any she’d shared except with Isaiah years ago.
The night she’d first kissed Isaiah, she’d known that they were going to fall hard for each other. It didn’t matter that they’d met ten minutes before or that the bulk of their conversation had been shouted over a Grass Mama song so loud Lucy’s ears had rung for days afterward. She hadn’t doubted the truth of the feeling that suffused her when her lips met Isaiah’s for a moment.
And now, she’d found it again. A kiss that proved that love was out there and a particular man was meant just for her. She’d never dreamed she and Brandon would be something special, but now she thanked God she’d found her way into his arms. She couldn’t wait to know him better, to fall in love for the second time knowing this might be the person she’d get to keep. Forever.
Lucy relished the delicious feeling coursing beneath her skin, smiling against Brandon’s lips as their kiss grew deeper, more intimate, and so sexy Lucy would have been tempted to climb him like a tree, wrap her legs around his narrow waist, and take things to the next level if they hadn’t been in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by friends and co-workers—and if the darkness that had been hovering around her for the past two days hadn’t picked that moment to sweep in, cooling her blood faster than ice cubes plunked into a glass of sweet tea.
She saw rushing water, felt the cold as it closed over her head, and terror coursing through her body, but beyond that the vision was murky. But she knew this was the reason for the feeling of foreboding that had haunted her for days, and that someone was going to die—and soon—if she didn’t do something to stop what she’d seen from happening.
Lucy pulled her mouth from Brandon’s, the vision fading as she opened her eyes. “I saw something,” she said, her breath coming fast.
What if she lost Brandon before they’d had a chance to get started, what if he was the person who was going to die. It made sense—why else would she have had the vision while they were kissing?
She didn’t know, but she knew she wasn’t going to let anything happen to him, not when she’d just realized they were meant to be.
“Can we get out of here? Go to your place, maybe?” she asked, hurrying on when his eyes widened. “I don’t mean to…you know. Though I’d like to do that before too long, but…” She took a deep breath. “I know this might sound crazy, but I had a vision and I think you might be in danger.”
Brandon frowned, but his arms stayed tight around her. “What kind of danger?”
“I saw water and felt cold as someone went under,” Lucy said. “And I think that someone is you. Back when I worked for the APD, I would touch objects that had significance to the case to get a bead on the people involved. If you’re the one who’s going to be in trouble, it makes sense that kissing you might have triggered the vision.”
Brandon frowned harder and for a frantic moment Lucy was afraid he would tell her she was crazy and walk away, but then he nodded and said—
“I’ll go get my truck and pull up to the front door. That way you won’t get too wet.”
Lucy sighed with relief. “Thank you so much.”
Brandon smiled. “Thank you. For the kiss and…for wanting to watch out for me.”
“No problem.” Lucy said, silently adding, always, as he took her hand and led her across the dance floor.
Her heart had finally woken up and she wasn’t letting anything put it back to sleep, not wind or rain or a hundred forbidding visions.
Chapter Five
By the time Faith stumbled into her apartment a little after midnight, her heels were blistered from dancing in her galoshes, her skin was sticky with sweat, and her mascara had started to run f
rom a combination of laughing until she cried and getting soaked as she dashed through the rain to her apartment’s front door.
She was certain she looked a wreck, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had that much fun with a group of women.
“How did it go?” Mick asked, grinning up at her from the couch where he and Captain Snugglepants, the cat, were ensconced with a fleece blanket and every remote control in the house, watching a fishing show that Mick shut off as she closed the door behind her.
“I had the best time,” Faith said, struggling out of her shoes. “I laughed my head off, and danced for hours, and actually enjoyed it.”
“No.” Mick’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”
Faith shook her head. “Nope. I shook my groove thing like it was my job, dude. My job.”
He chuckled. “Does this mean you’re going to make me dance more than one dance at the reception?”
Faith circled around the couch to collapse next to him with a heavy sigh. “Nah. I’ll probably decide I hate dancing again by then.”
“I hope not,” Mick said, sliding his arm around her and pulling her close. “I’d like to see you shake your groove thing like it’s your job.”
Faith glanced up at him, narrowing her eyes. “Speaking of groove things, how did the bachelor party go?”
Mick shrugged. “We played poker and ate wings and drank a little too much beer. Nothing eventful.”
“No surprise strippers?” she asked.
“There was a boob cake, but no strippers,” Mick said. “I made the guys promise not to hire any. Female strippers are depressing.”
“Male strippers are hysterical,” Faith said, giggling. “I laughed so hard I cried.”
Mick grinned. “I know. Maddie texted me. She was so glad you were having a good time.”
“She’s so nice,” Faith said. “I’ve never had anyone throw me a big party like that. Not even on my birthday when I was a kid. Mom and I always just went over to my cousins’ house to BBQ and eat a cake my aunt made from a box.”
“You deserved a big party. I’m glad you had fun.” Mick leaned in to kiss the top of her hair, then her temple, before his lips began to trail down her neck, making her heart beat faster.
“I did,” Faith said, smiling as she shifted in his arms, bringing her lips a whisper away from his. “But I’m still up for more fun.”
“I was hoping you would say that,” Mick said, a husky note in his voice as he reached over, hooking his hand under her left knee and pulling her up and over to straddle him on the couch.
Captain Snugglepants leapt from the cushions with an irritable yeowl and dashed for the kitchen like he was being chased by a pack of rabid dogs.
Faith chuckled. “I think we’re traumatizing the cat with the constant banging,” she said as Mick’s hands settled on her hips, drawing her closer.
“We close the door to the bedroom most of the time,” Mick said, his warm palms slipping up the back of her silver tank top to caress her bare skin. “Besides, I warned him earlier that I’d be making a play for you as soon as you walked in the door. I can’t be expected to resist you in this shirt.”
“Why’s that?” Faith’s breath rushed out as Mick’s hands molded to her ribs before slipping around to cup her breasts.
“It’s the shirt you were wearing the night I started to fall in love with you,” he said, thumbs brushing across her nipples, sending waves of desire coursing between her legs.
“The night I vomited on that guy’s shoes?” Faith’s fingers threaded through Mick’s thick black curls, holding tight as he intensified his efforts at her breasts, teasing her tightened tips between his fingers and thumbs until she moaned.
“The same,” he said, abandoning her swollen flesh to strip her tank top over her head, a soft curse escaping his lips as his gaze swept up and down—from her wild hair, to her bare breasts, to where her thighs spread on either side of his hips and back again. “You are so beautiful like this.”
“Sweaty, with my makeup running down my face?” Faith asked, leaning down to capture his lips.
“Yes,” Mick said, kissing her with the word. “Does that make me a dirty bastard?”
“No,” she said, biting her lip as his hands returned to her breasts. “You’d be a dirty bastard if you wanted to pull my hair while you took me from behind.”
Mick cursed again before he pulled away to gaze up at her, a hooded look in his eyes that made the knot of longing low in Faith’s body twist tighter. “Is that what you’re in the mood for?”
Faith reached down between them, popping the top button on his jeans before reaching lower, caressing his erection through the thick fabric. “If you’re up for it.”
“I’m up for anything as long as it involves being buried inside you in the next two minutes,” Mick said, surging to his feet, holding her in his arms with her legs wrapped tight around his waist as he headed for the bedroom.
Moments later, the rest of Faith’s clothes were off and Mick’s hand was fisted in her hair and his cock was filling her, stretching her, driving inside of her until there was nothing but Mick and the sounds of their bodies coming together and the way he made the pleasure building inside of her swell until she was blind with it, until she had no choice but to let go, bucking back into Mick’s thrusts as he joined her release with a rough cry.
“I am never going to get tired of this,” Mick said, rolling them over, fitting her against his chest.
“Having really great sex?” Faith nuzzled closer to his skin, feeling she might start purring with satisfaction.
“Having really great sex with my best friend,” Mick clarified before kissing the top of her head, sending a warm, loved feeling flooding through Faith, followed closely by a familiar wave of disbelief.
Sometimes it was hard to believe this was her life, that she’d really found a man who loved her with the perfect blend of heart, humor, and bravery, who never let her down, always had her back, and made her the happiest she’d been in her entire life. After growing up with a mom addicted to bad relationships, the notion of happily ever after had left a sour taste in Faith’s mouth. It seemed crazy that in eight short days she would be saying her “I do’s” and marrying the man of her dreams.
But it was really happening, and so far, she and Mick seemed to be living under a blessed star. Faith had been worried when Naomi decided to adopt Mick’s ex-girlfriend’s baby—concerned that Mick’s ex might want an open adoption and to remain in the picture—but Bridget had chosen a closed adoption and left town without trying to contact Mick, bound for some expensive inpatient clinic in Northern Arizona.
Since then, there hadn’t been a single bump in the relationship road. She and Mick rarely fought, and when they did it was about something silly and usually ended in a wrestling match, which led to sex, which led to them both forgetting what they’d been bickering about in the first place. They agreed on their five-year plan—from when they would take off work to climb Kilimanjaro, to when they hoped to buy their first home, to when they’d start talking about babies, if Faith decided she wanted children.
Mick had even been understanding about Faith’s anxiety about starting a family. He wanted kids someday, but had sworn he wouldn’t be upset if Faith decided motherhood wasn’t for her. He promised he would never regret marrying her, and that she was all he needed to be repulsively happy.
He was perfect. They were perfect. Everything was perfect.
Too perfect.
Faith should have known that her lousy luck wouldn’t let all that perfection continue unabated without throwing a wrench into the mix, but she was so blissed out by the time she went to sleep that she didn’t think to worry about it.
Even when she got a call from Jamison at eight the next morning, asking her to come into work a day early to help assist in emergency rescues over at a subdivision that had unexpectedly flooded overnight when part of the levy collapsed, Faith didn’t let the news stress her out.
<
br /> Helping avert disaster—and saving lives in the process—was one of the reasons she loved her job so much. Sure, she had only gotten six hours of sleep and was still foggy from drinking a few too many Lady Slippers the night before, but that was nothing a shower and a big breakfast couldn’t cure.
She showered and dressed in record time and swung into the kitchen just as Mick was scooping scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese onto her plate and plopping two biscuits down beside it.
“Thank you, baby,” Faith said, kissing Mick’s cheek as she claimed her plate and carried it over to the table. “You going to head into work today, too?”
They’d planned to spend the day on the couch binge-watching Buying Hawaii together and hiding out from the rain. But Faith knew Mick had been jonesing to finish up the dry wall in the extra room Mick had helped Jake add on to his place in preparation for baby number two, a little boy he and Naomi were hoping to adopt in the fall.
Mick shook his head. “I think it’s going to be too damp to hang drywall. Even with the dehumidifier going, it will take the compound forever to dry. I’ll probably work on that app Jung-Su and I have been tossing back and forth. He’s got a buyer interested and if we can each clear twenty grand on the job, you and I can start looking for houses when we get back from the honeymoon.”
Faith smiled at him over the rim of her coffee mug, grateful for the fog-clearing effects of caffeine. “Sweet. But if it doesn’t work out, that’s fine too. I seriously don’t mind staying here longer. I think it’s better to keep some money in savings than dump everything on a house.”
“I agree,” Mick said, settling across from her at the table. “But I like the idea of house hunting with you.”
“Assuming there are any houses in our price range that haven’t been flood-damaged by the time we’re ready to start looking,” Faith said, shoveling her last forkful of eggs into her mouth. “This weather is crazy.”
Mick made a considering sound. “Be careful today, okay? I was listening to the news while you showered. The water is rising fast in some places, and they had a sinkhole open up north of town and swallow half a house.”