by Jordan Marie
“What the fuck??” Craig repeats like a damned parrot. “Did you have me towed, Parish? Because I took your ex on a date?”
“Whoa, man. Is that your car? How would I have done that? I didn’t even know you were here, and what could I have possibly had you towed over? You need to check yourself,” I add helpfully. “If I was you, though, I’d hurry, because if they take your car to the impound this late on a Saturday, you won’t get the thing out until Monday.”
“Motherfucker. Petal—”
“Go on, Craig. I’ll be fine,” she insists.
Craig gives me a hateful look with a growl and stomps off.
“Happy now, Luka Parish?” Petal asks grouchily.
I don’t know what to say to her, really, but I’m pretty sure I don’t need to be telling her the truth that I love that Craig is gone—or that I am the one responsible for having him towed.
12
Luka
“Are you sure about this, Luka?” Petal asks again.
She’s standing beside me outside of the county judge’s office. We have a one o’clock appointment to get married. Married. Am I sure? Fuck no. I’m marrying a seventeen-year-old pregnant girl who has spent the majority of our relationship pretending to be someone else and lying to me. I’m not sure of anything—except the fact that I’m going to be a father.
She’s trembling beside me, and her face is deathly pale. I reach down and take her hand in mine not because I want to, but because she looks like she might pass out if I don’t. I hate that I’m mad at her. I hate that I feel I can’t trust her. I really hate that I feel like she trapped me into all of this. I resent her now, and I know it’s not fair. Maybe it would have been different if I knew how old she was all along—or hell, if I had known her real name. But I didn’t. How are you supposed to make a marriage work with someone when you are so angry at them that sometimes you can’t function?
I loved her. But love can’t exist where there’s no trust, only anger.
Can it?
“I’m sure,” I tell her, lying my ass off. I’m not sure of anything.
Present:
“Were you responsible for that, Luka?”
“How could I be responsible, Petal? I didn’t even know you were going to be here,” I tell her, and I’m proud of myself for sounding so sincere. I don’t feel guilty either. I’m saving her, really. She should be staying far away from Craig Weston. If Black can’t do his job as her brother, then I’ll do it. It doesn’t mean anything; I’m just protecting the mother of my child. I owe it to her, and I owe it to River.
She watches me closely for a minute before sighing and relaxing back in the seat.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Well, it looks like this date was a bust.”
“He’s an asshole,” I tell her, sitting down in Craig’s empty seat.
“He was nice. It’s not his fault his car was towed,” she defends.
“Will you still feel that way when I tell you he didn’t stop by to pay the bill?”
“Crap. We just ordered too.”
“What did he order?”
“I didn’t really pay attention. Oh well, I’ll put it on the card and worry about it next month—along with the cab ride home, I guess.”
I feel a little guilty—but not much. If she knew what I knew about Craig, she’d be thanking me.
“I’ll eat it and pay, then take you home.”
“Uh… Luka, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? I’m hungry. You are too. Your date was a jackass. Seems like the perfect solution to me.”
“What about Tani?” she asks, watching me warily.
“It was one night out, Petal. Tani and I aren’t dating. Besides, you’re the mother of my child. If I want to buy you dinner and take you home, I don’t see why we have to dissect it and make a federal case out of it, do you?”
“I guess not, but you hate Thai food. You hate any food that doesn’t contain a perfectly grilled steak and a loaded baked potato, Luka.”
“I came here to try something different. So, we’ll look at it like an adventure,” I suggest with a shrug, wishing she’d just let it drop.
“If you’re sure.” She looks at me with her first real smile, and because of that, I find myself relaxing.
“I’m sure,” I tell her, but I’m lying. Right now, I’m not sure of anything except that I didn’t want Petal to go out with Craig Weston.
I refuse to examine why.
13
Petal
“We’re really married.” I look down at the paper that Luka is holding, and my heart is thudding impossibly hard in my chest. I can’t believe I just married Luka Parish.
“We’re really married,” Luka says, raising his head, and when he looks at me, he has the strangest expression on his face.
“What is it?”
“It’s just a little work getting used to your name—Lotus Petal.”
Shame and guilt hit me again. How many times will I experience that? I should have never lied to Luka. I hate that I did, but will I always have to pay for it? I had dreams and hopes about being married to Luka. I had silly fantasies. None of them included getting married at the courthouse wearing a t-shirt and shorts with Luka wearing his uniform.
“I’m sorry, Luka—” I begin to tell him.
“It’s in the past now. We have to forget everything and look ahead now, for the baby. We don’t have a choice.”
His words slice into me as sure as if he was holding a weapon. When we made love in the back of his old truck, looking up at the stars, I felt special. Now I feel like a stone around his neck—a duty. He doesn’t even say our baby; it’s “the” baby. That small difference makes my heart bleed.
“Maybe… do you think you can remember the good things we shared, Luka?” I ask, and I try not to sound like I’m pleading, but I know I am.
“Lotus Petal is a pretty name,” he says instead, and that uneasy feeling inside of me doesn’t go away. If anything, it intensifies.
“I always hated the name. Especially Lotus. Supposedly I was named after my mother—or what she changed her name to when she was younger.”
“Since I don’t really like your mother, I’ll ignore that. Besides, I think Lotus is my favorite part.”
“It is?” I ask, confused.
“That’s what I’ll call you. Lotus.”
“I hate that name, Luka.”
He smiles, and somehow that makes me feel better—at least a little.
“Then I’ll call you Lo’.” He smiles. “Let’s go look at the apartment before I have to go to work.”
“No one has ever called me Lo’ before,” I confess to him, following him out of the small room.
He puts his hand on my back and leads me to his truck. “That’s good. It will be my name for you.” He doesn’t kiss me, but he does kiss the top of my head right before opening the door for me. That’s something, at least. Maybe it will be okay.
There’s no going back now. It has to be okay.
Present:
“What is this shit?” Luka asks, his eyes going round.
“I think it’s some kind of coconut soup,” I say with hope that I’m right because I’m really not sure.
“This has to be some kind of joke. A prank or something. It has to be.”
“Luka…”
“Swear to God, Petal, it looks like they ran out of food and threw the leftovers in a bowl and said ‘Here you go’!”
“Oh, they did not. Now you’re overreacting!” I laugh. I can’t stop myself.
“I am not! Look at this crap,” he growls. People are starting to look at us, but I don’t care. I can’t stop myself from laughing either.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“There’s fish in it, Petal,” he answers, his eyes glued to his bowl.
“You like fish.”
“It still has eyeballs, woman. In my world, the head does not stay on!” he all but growls loudly. I lose it then, laughin
g so hard I can’t control myself.
“So if I ever want to torture you, all I have to do is dump fish heads in your fridge. You should never let your enemies know your weaknesses, Luka. I sense a blackmail opportunity coming my way,” I joke.
“Is that what you are now, Petal? An enemy?” he asks as the mood in the room suddenly gets heavy.
“I don’t want to be,” I tell him truthfully. “I’ve never wanted that.”
“Me neither. We sure made a mess out of everything, didn’t we?”
“Not everything. We have a beautiful son,” I point out, emotion and old pain squeezing my heart.
“That we do. Do you ever wish we could go back, Petal? Go back in the past and fix things…”
“I wish I could go back in time and tell you the truth from the beginning. If I had told you up front who I was and my real age… maybe things would have been different.”
“Maybe. Still, if you had done that, River might not be here, and I can’t imagine a world without him in it,” Luka says, and his words are both bitter and sweet. Sweet because I love that he cares for his son so deeply. Luka has always been an amazing father, yet at the same time, the words are bitter. He as much as admitted, yet again, that I wasn’t enough. I’ve always felt like that from the day Luka told me that we were getting married, I was just a necessary evil—nothing of consequence. Our entire adult relationship is based on the sole fact that Luka got me pregnant and wanted his son.
“True,” I tell him, brushing off old hurts, old anger, and old ghosts.
“I’ve missed your laugh,” he says unexpectedly.
I don’t really know how to react. I try to control that wild hope blooming in my chest. Could Black be right? Could I get Luka back? Is there a chance for us?
“We never had much to laugh about. Especially there at the end,” I tell him truthfully, even though—especially in this instance—the truth is painful.
“What is that you’re eating?” he asks, causing me to jerk my head back to my plate.
“Som Tum?” I question.
“What the hell is that?”
“Basically a papaya salad.”
“A salad is not a meal,” he grumbles.
I blush. “I’ve been trying to diet.”
“Lo’,” Luka mutters, and my heart turns over in my chest. It’s been so long since he’s called me Lo’. I can’t even remember the last time, but I know that I’ve missed it. It’s funny how a nickname can make you feel beautiful, but Luka calling me Lo’ can do that every time. Every. Time. “You don’t need to diet. You’re perfect the way you are.” I look at him, confused, when he stands up. He throws some money on the table, definitely more than enough to pay the bill. Then he comes around to where I’m sitting and reaches out his hand. “Let’s go.”
“Um… where are we going?”
“To find a damned hamburger and a milkshake,” he mutters. I put my hand in his and let him lead me away. I’m doing my best to tap down the hope that keeps rising inside of me, because I know if this is nothing or if it falls apart, I’ll never survive the crash.
The problem is I think it’s much too late.
14
Luka
“Fuck, Lo’, that’s it. God yes, take it baby,” I urge her as she tightens that pussy on my cock, riding the hell out of me. I look up at her and watch, unable to take my eyes away from her. Her thighs are pressed tightly against me, her head bent down with her hair falling around her face, and her eyes are closed. My hands are grabbing that lush ass, holding the cheeks and pressing them, molding them as I help push her deeper onto my cock. She grinds her hips, and my cock scrapes the inside of her walls. It feels so fucking good, I have to fight not to come. Every fucking time, it just gets better and better.
Her hands slap against the back of the couch as she supports herself, her fingers biting into the cushions so hard, it’s a wonder she doesn’t tear the fabric. The movement brings her tits down to my face, and I grab one like the greedy bastard I am when it comes to her body. I suck the nipple into my mouth roughly. I couldn’t be tender if I wanted to right now.
“Luka. I’m going to come, baby. I’m going to come,” she cries out loudly. I let go of her breast and grab her neck, quickly bringing her mouth to mine. I take it hard, the pressure so forceful it’s almost painful, and I know her lips will be bruised. I growl as I taste her mouth, sucking on her tongue, and I take over her mouth just as I feel her come all over my cock.
Petal is the sweetest taste of Heaven… and one I’ll never get tired of.
Present:
“Thanks for dinner, Luka. It was nice,” Petal whispers as we walk back to my car. Things have turned kind of quiet after leaving the small diner just outside of Mason. Maybe she’s worried because I took her out of town for dinner. I don’t have an explanation, other than I just didn’t want to deal with any of the bullshit that would ensue if her mother or my parents found us. At my age I shouldn’t give a shit what they say, but it was something I didn’t want to deal with tonight. Even thinking about it is just another reminder of all the shit that got in the way of my relationship with Petal.
“It was,” I agree. “It got even better after we got real food,” I add, trying to cover up the uncomfortable vibe between us and hating that it’s there.
“You never know. You might have liked coconut fish heads,” Petal jokes as I open the car door.
“Not in this lifetime,” I declare with a laugh, helping her inside.
I take my time walking to my side of the car. I’m a bundle of nerves, which is fucking ridiculous. I’m practically a thirty-year-old man, a damned sheriff for fuck’s sake. Yeah, Mason isn’t a town that is riddled with crime, but I have still found myself on the wrong end of a shotgun from time to time. I shake it off as best as I can—angry with myself for even letting Petal being this near affect me.
I’m driving down the road and neither of us have said a word since. I turn up the radio to cover the silence. Jason Aldean plays quietly in the background. I chance a look over at Petal. She’s staring out the window. Her guard is down, and just seeing the side of her face is enough because I can see the sadness there. Maybe this was a bad idea. I didn’t want Petal with Craig, but being around each other shouldn’t be this hard or complicated either. I force myself to look back at the road. I’ll take her home and then that’s it. I won’t try to stop Petal from making mistakes. I won’t try to control who she sees and who she doesn’t. This is out of my hands—it’s all of out of my hands.
“You can just drop me off at Maggie’s, Luka.”
“Maggie’s? You staying there now?”
“No. It will just be easier tonight. I’ll get Maggie to take me to Mom’s in the morning before she goes to work.”
My fingers tighten on my steering wheel. “I’ll take you home, Petal,” I tell her gruffly, unable to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “Jesus,” I mutter under my breath, and that whole feeling of this being a mistake explodes inside of me.
“I said I want to go to Maggie’s,” she insists.
I lose it. “Are you that damned afraid of what your mother will do if she sees me bringing you home? Christ, you’re twenty-two now. Are you ever going to grow up, Petal?”
“Why do you always do this?” she asks, shaking her head.
“Do what? Insist you start taking responsibility for your own choices?” I growl, and I didn’t mean my words that way—not like I know she takes it. I see how my words slap her in the face. She visibly flinches, and I feel horrible.
“Stop the car, Luka,” she whispers, and the words are so soft I have to strain to hear them.
“Damn it, Petal!”
“I said, stop the goddamned car!” she yells.
I pull to the side of the road, and she’s out before I can even put the car into park. I jump out and catch her, grabbing her arm and pulling her between me and the hood.
“Will you just calm down?”
“I’m not the one who is b
eing a horse’s ass right now,” she sputters out, her face tight with anger and deep red in color.
“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded,” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck in frustration as she pulls free from my hold.
“You never do, but you can’t resist throwing the past in my face. I’m so tired of it, Luka. I’ve made a hell of a lot of mistakes—”
“Petal,” I start, wanting to stop her before she goes down that road, because I truthfully did not mean to bring the past up between us. I just got frustrated because she didn’t want her mother to know she was spending time with me. It was childish of me, and it was a low-blow. I wish I could go back and take the words away. Then again, it seems I’m always wishing that where Petal is involved.
“But I wasn’t in our relationship alone, Luka Parish! You made a lot of damned mistakes too, and I refuse to let you rake me through the coals over and over…” she continues, just talking over me and so angry that her body is literally shaking.
It’s stupid and a million other things, but I don’t think. I don’t take the time to calm down, and I sure as hell don’t stop myself. I grab her shoulders and haul her body to mine, then take her mouth. Take is the perfect description, too. The force of my kiss is almost violent. Our teeth clash and I’m pretty sure she somehow cuts my mouth when I feel the bitter, coppery taste of blood. I ignore it, intent only on getting Petal to submit to me—to assert my dominance over her. She does her best to close her lips, shutting me out. My hand moves to her neck, and I hold the side of her face, not letting her get away, not letting her shut me out. My tongue pushes into her mouth, seeking hers. Petal remains stiff, fighting against the kiss. My hand moves up to cup her breast, my thumb and forefinger pulling on the hardened nipple I feel through her dress.