by Linda Joyce
Lucas swallowed. An idea hit him and he didn’t much like the impact. He hated to ask the question, but Craig had already lined up a buyer for the farm. With the paintings missing and the art show teetering on the edge of failure, the reality of Amelia’s future had taken a one-eighty turn from what she wanted. If Craig had staged the theft or had anything, no matter how remote, to do with it, he’d probably have to kill him. At the very least, their friendship would be dead. “Craig, tell me honestly. There’s no way you had anything to do with the missing paintings, is there?”
“What!” Craig’s outrage screamed through the speaker on the phone. “How could you even ask me that? Asshole! I would never—”
“Forget I asked. It was an errant thought. But I had to ask. We both know how much you want her off the farm.”
“Why does everyone question my motives?” Craig shouted. “I only want what’s best for my sister. Our parents are gone, and I’m all she’s got. I’m here for her. I have to make her do the right thing, do what’s in her best interest. You of all people should understand that.”
“Craig,” Lucas said, his voice low, calm, and even. “You’re wrong.”
“Really? About which part?”
“You can’t make her do anything. Your intentions are admirable, but you have tunnel vision. Amelia is a strong woman. She knows what’s best for her. And…”
“Spit it out. What else?” Craig roared.
“You’re not all she’s got. You haven’t been here for Amelia for the last year. I have.”
Silence hung between them. Lucas looked at his phone. Seconds ticked away. He’d spoken the truth. The ball was in Craig’s court.
“What’s your point, Dwyer?” Craig said dryly after a full minute of silence.
“How about talking with Amelia about all of this? Help her get what she wants. I’m not saying you should go into debt. But there are options neither of you have explored.”
A text message from Amelia dinged on Lucas’s phone. Where are you?
“I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later,” Lucas said.
“You do that,” Craig said. “This conversation isn’t over.”
Lucas ended the call, grabbed the WD-40 from his tool chest, and headed inside the building. On my way up, he texted back.
When Lucas reached the studio and slid open the squeaking door, he noticed his shirt and the pile of clothes missing from the floor. He paused, considering what had transpired between him and Amelia. His whole world shifted. He’d made love to the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
Breathing in deeply, his chest filled with air sweeter than spring after a cold hard winter. His heart swelled with love. The longing buried deep in his chest thrummed through his body. Even if theirs had to be a long-distance relationship, he would find a way to make a relationship with her work. “Amelia?”
“Over here.”
He passed Jack sleeping on the chaise as he walked to the far end of the loft and turned the corner in the L-shaped studio space. A small sleeping area was tucked out of view from the front door. A bed, a nightstand, a single lamp. An intimate spot.
“Join me, Lucas?” Amelia lay propped on several pillows. She wore his shirt, which exposed the shapeliness of her bare legs. His heart beat a quick two-step. His body wanted to clear the distance between them in less than that, but his feet remained cemented to the spot where he stood.
“I’m going to remove the squeak from your door.” It sounded lame. His body craved hers and urged him to jump into bed and explore her body. His fingers clenched the can tighter, his other hand curled into a fist by his side. Restraint. His plan had been to wine and dine her and then seduce her at the finest hotel in Kansas City. Passion and need engulfed them, emotions so strong nothing short of a nuclear explosion could have stopped what happened earlier. But now… maturity had to rule their next encounter. He was more than a failed farmer running a harvesting business, and he would treat his woman right.
“Come closer, Lucas,” Amelia whispered, motioning him with her fingers. Her web netted him, pulling him closer and closer, and against his better judgment, his feet moved, stopping at the foot of the bed. Though he maintained a poker face, his hunger for her exploded. His desire would no longer fit into the condensed spaces of his heart, the same way he couldn’t unring a bell.
“Closer.” Amelia gazed at him with half-closed eyes. Her grin changed from saucy to smug. She had to realize what she did to him, setting his thudding heart, and incited the growing hardness in his jeans.
When she sprang from the bed and embraced his neck, he dropped the can of lubricant. Hitting the floor, it clanged, before rolling off somewhere. His attention remained on the woman in his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He cupped her butt. Firm. Round. Feminine.
“Why won’t you let me tell you how I feel about you?” Amelia asked.
“I’m fine with words, but showing is always better than telling.” Lucas strained against the ache building in his body.
“I’m not asking for anything except for you to make love to me.”
“Now is all we have. The future is too uncertain.” Lucas shifted and began lowering Amelia to the bed. “I wanted to take you to dinner. A little music, some wine, and then a view of Kansas City from high above the town.”
“That can wait.” Amelia scooted further into the middle of the bed. She reached for him, one hand embracing the back of his neck. “The hunger I’ve got has nothing to do with food.”
Lucas removed his boots and crawled toward her on the bed. His hands rested on either side of her head and supported the weight of his torso. With his knees bent, he arched over her. “I like the way you think. We’ll start with dessert.” He kissed her softly. She deepened the kiss, her tongue dancing with his. She tasted so sweet.
He lifted and rested back on his heels. Before him, Amelia looked more than delectable, a nymph oozing with sexiness, her hair fanned out and her legs stretched long.
“Amelia…”
“Shhh,”
“I’ve got to say this.”
She folded her hands and rested them primly on her stomach as though she might be a corpse in a coffin.
“Give a guy a break,” Lucas moaned. “I just wanted to say it wasn’t Craig’s fault you haven’t had much of a dating life. I take full responsibility for that, and, we’re about to change everything.”
“One. Two. Three…” Amelia began counting.
Lucas hopped back and removed his pants. He again settled next to Amelia, spooning her side and wrapping an arm around her, his hand covering her breast. His erection pressed into her hip. She wiggled against him.
“Ohhh,” he groaned. “You feel so damn good.”
“Let’s take it real slow,” Amelia whispered. “We have all night.”
Lucas kissed her neck. His need rose. His control slipped. “I need you now, Amelia.”
She rolled over to face him.
“Let your body do the talking.” She nipped at his lower lip with her teeth.
A deafening sound exploded in the air. Lucas jumped.
Jack barked and appeared from around the corner. He launched himself onto the bed.
“What the hell?” Lucas shouted.
“Fire alarm. Grab your clothes and let’s go.”
“It could be a false alarm.” Lucas reached for Amelia, but she slipped through his grasp.
“Maybe, but I don’t want to take that chance.” She ran into the other room.
“Bad timing,” he groaned through clenched teeth. Tense, his body cursed the blaring alarm, but the loud noise killed any possibility of romance. By the time he slid into his pants and pulled on his boots, Amelia had reappeared, completely dressed, and shoved his shirt at him.
With her purse over her shoulder, she clipped the leash on Jack. Together they raced to the door. “Get low,” Lucas said before shoving open the studio door. The hall was smokeless. Other tenants filed out of their units and headed to
ward the stairs.
Lucas grabbed Amelia’s hand, pulling her up. “Stay close.”
When they reached the sidewalk in front of the building, Lucas pointed to a spot across the street. As they made their way through the crowd, a fire truck and an ambulance pulled up. A policeman stopped, lights flashing on his car, got out, and began directing traffic. “Everyone, keep moving away from the building. Move down the block.”
A second police car arrived. Sirens wailed in the distance. Smoke billowed. Flames shot out from a fourth-floor window.
Amelia gasped. “Oh, no!” The terror on her face hit Lucas squarely in the chest. Was there nothing he could do to protect the woman he loved?
“Where are you parked?” Lucas asked. Standing around made no sense. If the whole building burned, they didn’t have to watch the moment by moment, play by play, a cremation of what had once been a big part of Amelia’s life.
“Parked?” Amelia trembled in his embrace.
“Amelia, look at me.” He cupped her chin. “Where’s your truck?”
“Around the corner in the pay lot. It was the only place with enough space for my truck and trailer. Why?”
“There’s nothing we can do here.”
“I can’t leave!” Her brows furrowed. Her eyes bulged.
“Trust me. It’s all just stuff.”
Amelia shook her head as though in complete denial. She bolted and ran toward the building, dragging Jack alongside her. Lucas caught her just as one of the policemen stepped directly into her path. “Ma’am, you can’t go in there.”
“My paintings!” Amelia cried. “I need my paintings. The fire isn’t on my floor. It’s on the opposite end of the building. Please! Let me go.”
“It’s not safe,” Lucas and the officer said in unison.
“I’ll take care of her.” Lucas turned Amelia around and gently guided her to the corner. The rising flames brightened the darkening sky. Dusk had rolled away, but ambient city light and the fire killed all opportunity to view the universe of stars he was accustomed to viewing in the country. Any thought he might have had about moving to the city to be with Amelia burned away same as the flames were incinerating the building.
“Let’s go to your truck. Let’s drop off the trailer. Then we’ll come back and scope out the scene.”
“No!” Amelia shouted. “You go. Take my keys. I’m staying right here.”
“I can’t leave you. It only makes sense for you to come with me.”
Her shoulders slumped.
Lucas led her down the street, around the perimeter the police had created, and away from the burning building. They crossed over to the next block on the opposite side of the building. The illuminated parking lot sign guided them to the right spot. However, as they neared, additional police were cordoning off that side of the street.
“Could we get that truck and trailer out of there?” Lucas asked, with Amelia beside him, her gaze transfixed on the burning building. Water poured onto the fire, beautiful and destructive.
“Yeah, just head out the exit on the other side of the lot.”
Close to midnight, Lucas had settled Amelia into a hotel room with a view of the city. The fire blazed many blocks away. Every news station in town reported on it. Avoiding the sight of the destruction was impossible.
Amelia curled up in bed wearing a robe taken from the closet. Her attention focused solely on the television. Jack huddled close to her, barely visible, white fur against white bed linens.
Luca stood at the window. The vision he’d carried about sharing a special night in this hotel with Amelia was ruined. The intimacy and closeness he dreamed of had been drowned out, just like the blaze drowning thanks to the firefighters.
When his cell phone rang, he grabbed for it on the first ring. “Yeah.”
“I saw the news,” Craig said.
“It doesn’t look good,” Lucas replied. From the bed, Amelia groaned when part of a wall collapsed on the building. Lucas stepped into the hall. “At least I know you didn’t have anything to do with this fiasco.” Lucas couldn’t contain his sarcasm.
“I’ll take that as your attempt at humor given the stress of the situation,” Craig responded, dryly.
“We dropped the trailer at U-Haul. We’re at Center City Hotel. I brought her here because she won’t go home.”
“You’re sure she’s alright?”
“Well, she’s not happy, but she’s safe.”
“I talked to the police again,” Craig continued. “That truck stop is a target for thieves. They’ll steal anything they think will make them a fast buck. The police guestimate because she had so many paintings with her, the thieves figured the paintings were worth big money.”
“Maybe they’ll get them. Amelia’s trying to maintain a stiff upper lip. She hasn’t broken down or cried. She even called Gus knowing I was listening. He’ll start harvesting the corn next week. You’ve got to tell her about your plans to sell.”
“No, not yet. Besides, I can’t sell unless she agrees to it, too. But the buyer’s getting antsy. There are other farms on the market. I’ll talk to her over the weekend. On Sunday, after her birthday party.”
“What if she refuses?”
“Then I’ll remind her that half of the crop is mine. I’ll demand payment. Then she’ll be forced into selling. With only a few boxes left, her paintings gone, a second-rate showing, and only half the crop for income, moving back to KC will be more appealing. There she can focus on her art.”
“Only where will she go? The loft will soon be rubble.”
The sound of a fist pounding a hard surface floated through the phone. “Dammit! The loft is completely destroyed?”
“I don’t know about completely, but whatever the fire doesn’t consume water will have ruined. Let’s get through tonight and see how everything looks in the morning.”
“Should I call her now? I want her to know I care.” Craig sounded like a whipped man.
“Tomorrow.” Lucas closed his phone. He understood Craig’s position. Like him, he had a sister he wanted to protect. He’d made a mess of that on Sunday. Made Megan cry when she thought he was abandoning her like their parents had abandoned them for Arizona. However, unlike Craig, he wasn’t trying to strangle the life out of Megan by making her live in a place she didn’t want anymore.
Amelia wanted the farm. Wanted a life in Harvest. Would she accept his help to hang on to the farm? Could he intercede at the bank? He could put his equipment up for collateral and buy Craig out. One thing he’d learned in the military—patience. Wait for a clear shot. Then take it. He’d waited a full year for Amelia to live through her grief. It wouldn’t have been fair to sweep her off her feet while sorrow wrapped her heart. He refused to use undue influence while she grieved. He wanted a solid foundation with her, not Fourth of July fireworks fizzling out in minutes. And while he admired her strength and gritty determination, Craig’s concerns about her staying on the farm had some merit.
Was there a way for him to balance life and come out the winner of Amelia’s heart?
Chapter 13
The next morning Lia woke and stretched. She blinked the room into focus. Uneasiness crept up her spine. Where was she? Looking around, it took a moment for her brain to register. This wasn’t home or the loft…a hotel. The fire.
Lucas? Where was he?
Yesterday hadn’t been a nightmare conjured up during REM sleep. Watching the fire destroy half of the building had kicked her feet out from under her and slammed her on her butt. However, Lucas’s support had gotten her through the nightmare, which thanks to TV, was now emblazoned on her brain forever. While he’d held her tenderly, he’d so thoroughly captured her heart. Even through the darkest night, he brought hope shining into her world. She loved him. A warming sensation lessened her uneasiness. Her pulse fluttered. They had to find a way to make the relationship work.
Her mind raced. Thoughts spiraled up and down. Panic thumped a beat in her chest. She’d been so sure sh
e could create the world she wanted after her parents’ passing. The farm. Painting. Lucas. Yes, her parents’ death had kicked her butt. In doing so, it had opened a new door, one that grounded her. Gave her comfort. Offered a new perspective on her well-ordered life.
Her mother had always pushed her to do more. Be more. Which had to be the reason Lia rejected the rebellious teenager times. She never got drunk. Never smoked. Never cut school. Never dated much. Painting meant everything. On canvas, she took risks. No bars on her emotions. No rules existed. That boldness garnered her local recognition and expanded to regional exposure. If she did nothing else, she had to paint. And she had to have a life with the man she loved.
“Lucas?” No response.
Where had he gone? She reached for Jack, but her hand came up empty. She leaned forward, tugging on the pillow beside her and stuffed it behind her back. A note fluttered onto the bed.
Taking Jack for a walk. Be back in a few. ~ L
What would she do without him? After last night, he probably thought she could play the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz. She lacked courage and had withdrawn into herself. Grunts and whimpers were her answers to any of his questions. Yet, ever gentle, Lucas put her needs first. He’d gotten her out of her clothes and into a robe and ordered hot chocolate to soothe her. He sat in bed beside her while the television blared about the two-alarm fire. She snuggled next to him after the news went off the air. He had held her until she fell asleep. He was right. Things would look different under the dawn of a new day. Now, with determination like Dorothy of Kansas, she wanted to go home, too.
A fumbling noise at the door drew her attention.
“Honey, I’m home,” Lucas called in a singsong voice. How wonderful would it be to hear his voice when she woke each morning and again before she went to sleep each night.
“I’m in here,” she replied, joy pumping through her heart. Pushing all other thoughts aside, she wanted this time with the man she loved. Whatever might be happening beyond the hotel room, she didn’t want to know.