Luke: A West Bend Saints Romance
Page 19
"No more secrets," I say slowly. "No more lies."
"No more secrets," he repeats. "No lies. I promise. I'll tell you everything that's going on – all the family stuff I've been keeping from you."
I swallow hard, trying to decide whether to let him in. I hate deception and lies – my entire life with Edward was one giant fraud, and I can't do that again.
But when I look into Luke's eyes, all I see is sincerity. And pain.
So I say yes.
I say yes, and I let him inside.
It takes longer than five minutes for him to tell the story. Once he starts talking, it's like a floodgate is opened. Words pour from his mouth, and I just sit there listening as he tells me everything. He tells me about his parents and how they were both murdered. He tells me about the corruption in West Bend, the mayor and sheriff taking kickbacks from a dirty mining company. He tells me about his brother Silas, and Silas' fiancé, the girl I saw him with outside of the general store, the one I assumed he was with. He tells me about the con.
It takes far longer than five minutes. He talks and talks, sitting beside me on the sofa in the living room, just like we sat that night, the night he cooked for me. Except this time, the air hangs heavy between us.
When he's finished, he turns to look at me. "That's it," he says. "Now you know everything. You know about what a shitty family I come from, and – I never wanted to involve you in the con stuff, Autumn. I thought you'd be safer if you were kept in the dark. I thought it would be easier if you just hated me. It…fucking killed me to send you that text. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I told myself that it was better to keep you and Olivia as far away from it as possible. I was trying to do the right thing, but I did it all wrong. And if you forgive me, I’ll spend the rest of my time making it up to you.”
"The mining company is that dirty," I say, not quite processing everything he’s said. My mind is spinning with information, completely overloaded. "That's why you flipped your lid when you saw me having dinner with the guy from the company."
Luke clenches his hands. "That's not the only reason," he says.
"What's the other reason?" I ask, afraid to look at him. The air between us seems to be charged with electricity.
"Because you're mine, damn it," he says. "You're mine and I want you. It gutted me to see you on a date with another man."
"It wasn't a date," I say, turning toward him. "I only went because I was curious what was going on with the property buyouts. It didn't make any sense to me."
"Still," he says, looking at me.
"You think I'm yours, huh?" I ask, interrupting him.
"I want you to be mine," he says. "Say you're mine."
"I'm yours, Luke." I barely get the words out before his mouth comes crashing down on mine.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Luke
I kiss her hard, running my hands through that long auburn hair of hers, before yanking off her clothes. This should be slow and gentle or something – after weeks of all of this bullshit. But it's the exact opposite of that. When I try to slow down, wrapping my mouth around her breast, my tongue flicking over her nipple, she pulls my head up to hers.
"I want you inside me," she whispers. "I need you inside me. I can't wait."
Fuck. If there's anything hotter than hearing those words come out of her mouth, I can't imagine what it would be.
We don't make it upstairs. We don't even make it very long on the sofa before we fall off onto the floor, limbs tangled together, Autumn giggling with her hand over the mouth, trying to be quiet so she doesn't wake Olivia.
But when I'm inside her, fucking her on the living room floor, there's nothing funny about that. Then she's quiet, making these little whimpers, barely more than a whisper, and looking into my eyes as I thrust inside her. She grips my ass cheeks, pulling me into her, wrapping her legs around me, encouraging me to fuck her harder.
"More, more," she whispers.
And I give her more. I fuck her harder, thrusting inside her sweet warm pussy that seems like it's made for me. When she whimpers, I mute her moans with my mouth. She clutches at my back, her fingernails digging into my skin, whispering my name.
Nothing in the world is better than hearing my name on her lips.
I move inside her, bringing her higher and higher until her pussy is so swollen around me I can barely take it any longer. Then she says the words: "Make me come, Luke."
I don't make her wait, not this time. I don't make her hold off the way I've done before. "Come with me, sweetheart," I say, and she does. As soon as I speak the words, she lets go, her pussy throbbing around me as she lets out a low moan. I let go, filling her up, her muscles milking me of every last drop.
Afterwards, she smiles as she looks at me. "I'm yours," she says.
Shit, she knows just what to say to me to make me hard as a rock again.
We don't make it off the living room floor for hours. I think we both have carpet burn, and I don't give a shit.
This is what I want – she is what I want.
When she rides me, sitting on my lap as I wrap my arms around her because I don’t want to let her go, her hair falls down around our faces like a curtain.
We fuck until we’re finally satisfied. Or exhausted. Or both.
"We should go upstairs," she murmurs, her voice soft as she lies with her head on my chest. I stroke her hair absently.
"We should," I say. I’m so relaxed I’m having a hell of a time keeping my eyes open. "Actually, I should go let Lucy out. I think she's camped out by the front door."
I stand, pulling on my clothes, pausing to admire Autumn as she slides a t-shirt over her head. She blushes when she catches me staring. "Hand me my pants," she says.
"I'd rather keep you naked," I tell her. But I toss them over anyway. "I hope you're not planning on staying dressed."
Then Lucy interrupts, from down the hallway somewhere, with a growl, low in her throat.
"Is that normal?" Autumn asks, her eyes wide. She pulls her jeans up and fastens the button. "She doesn't growl like that when she's here."
"Probably an animal," I say, my voice terse. I reach reflexively behind my back for my weapon, even though I know it's not there. Damn it. I didn't want to bring it into Autumn's place, not with her kid around, and I should have. Instead, it’s in my truck, where it’s useless.
Then Lucy comes into the living room, barking, the hackles on her fur standing straight up, and I know immediately something is wrong. Lucy heads upstairs, still growling.
"Where's she going?" Autumn asks. "Why is she going to Olivia's room?"
I put my hand on her. "We'll go grab Oli –"
Before I can finish, a window in the kitchen crashes. There's a blinding white light, followed by an explosion that knocks us to our knees. My arms around Autumn, I look past her, and see flames already licking the walls in the kitchen.
"Olivia!" Autumn screams. "We have to get her!"
I pull Autumn to her feet, holding her at arms' length by the shoulders. "I'm going to get her right now," I tell her. "Is there another way out of here, other than the front door?"
"I need to go up there!" she yells. "I'll go with you."
"Listen to me right now, Autumn," I yell. "There's no time. I will get her. I promise. Where is another way out of here?"
She's crying and she shakes her head, as if she's trying to think. "The laundry room," she says. "It opens onto the side."
"Is it by the kitchen?"
"No. It’s right over there," she says.
"Listen to me. Go out that way. I'll follow you. Do you have a weapon anywhere?"
"The cidery," she says. "Please. I need to go with you."
"Get out the laundry room door," I yell. "I'm right behind you, and I will have Olivia. There's a weapon in the glove box of my truck. Go to my truck or the cidery, wherever you can, and grab one of the weapons. We don't know who's outside."
She falters one more time, indecision written on h
er face, before turning and disappearing into the laundry room. I rush upstairs, where Lucy is barking at Olivia's crib. Olivia howls loudly, and I yank off my t-shirt before scooping her into my arms, covering her nose lightly with the fabric, which only serves to piss her off even further. Lucy darts down the stairs in front of us, standing at the bottom and barking at us.
"Come on, girl," I say, heading in the direction where I'd ordered Autumn a few minutes before. The fire hasn't spread to the laundry room, but the heat in the kitchen radiates into the other rooms, and the smoke billows into the rest of the house. "It's okay, Olivia. It's all going to be okay."
Fuck if I know that's true. But I say the words over and over as I carry her outside, into the freezing cold. I hold her against me as I jog around the side of the house, heading for the cidery.
"Do you really think I'm just going to let you run out of the house?" The voice comes from behind me, and I spin around. I'd recognize the voice anywhere. Jed Easton. He shines a flashlight in my eyes, blinding me, and Olivia screams louder than before. Lucy growls, and I know she'll lunge for Jed and he'll shoot her, so I order her to heel. "That dog comes at me, and I put her down, Saint."
"Heel, Lucy," I say, my tone low. She sits by my feet, her growl a low rumble in her throat. "A fire, Jed? With a kid inside the house? That’s low, even by your standards."
Jed chuckles. "Collateral damage," he says. "Besides, who would believe that you set the place on fire just to kill yourself? People are far more likely to believe that you set this place on fire because the slut here broke your heart. How does that saying go? If I can't have her, no one else will? That’s exactly why everyone will think you did it."
"You really think you're going to get away with this, Jed?" I ask. "Shooting me and the baby doesn't fit with the scenario you're describing."
"Walk," he says. "Away from the house. You're right, you know. But that's why you're always behind these things, Luke. You don't have the mind for anticipating what move I'm going to make next."
"Oh?" I ask, hushing Olivia under my breath, my chest tense. The first thing I need to do is get Olivia calmed down. Jed is on edge, and a crying toddler is only going to make things worse. I hum a few bars of a song under my breath – the only thing I can remember in the moment, Drunken Sailor, which is quite possibly the least appropriate toddler music choice ever -- as I wrap her in the t-shirt, holding her against my skin.
"Shut up," Jed says.
"I'm calming her down," I say. "Unless you'd rather hear her scream."
"I'd rather she shut the fuck up," he says. "Or I can just shut her the fuck up now."
I hear the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being cocked, and Luke's flashlight moves as he turns. I drop to the ground instinctively, Olivia in my arms, as soon as I hear the sound. A micro-second later, there's a shot, and Jed falls to the ground with a thud, groaning loudly.
Then Autumn is standing beside me, squatting down toward us, and taking Olivia from my arms. She hands me the shotgun and Jed's weapon. "I got him in the arm," she says. "We should probably call 911 or something."
"Shit, Red," I say. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins, my entire body tensed. "Where the fuck did you learn to shoot like that? You know he had his weapon drawn on us."
She holds Olivia against her chest, cooing to her softly before breaking into a lullaby that's only vaguely familiar to me. "I'm from Kentucky, Luke," she says. "I can handle a shotgun."
"Remind me never to get on your bad side," I say.
“If you break up with me via text message ever again, all bets are off.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Autumn
“I’m a little nervous.” I’m holding Olivia’s hand, standing at the door of this cabin up in the middle of nowhere, outside of West Bend, in the mountains somewhere. Olivia is bundled up in her bright pink puffy jacket, the hood on her head lined with fur. She looks up at me, her cheeks pink even though we’ve only just gotten out of the car and have been in the cold air for all of five minutes.
“Are you kidding?” Luke asks. “You shot Jed Easton – the town sheriff and the mayor’s son. You’re pretty much already a legend. A legend I’m totally in love with.”
The door opens before I can answer, and I stand there with my mouth hanging open, Luke’s words still echoing in my head.
A legend I’m totally in love with.
“You must be Autumn,” River Andrews says. And she holds her arms out. For a hug.
I’m hugging a movie star. And Luke just told me he loves me. Holy shit.
Luke just laughs. “Let’s go in,” he says, taking Olivia’s hand.
The cabin is gorgeous inside, like a private mountain resort. And it looks totally normal, people sitting on sofas playing a card game and hanging out – except for the row of computers on a table in the corner. The guy who’s obviously busy at the computers glances up, gives me a cursory wave, then promptly returns to whatever he’s doing.
“Don’t worry about him,” Luke says. “That’s Emir. He’s like that, I guess. He gets engrossed in what he’s doing.”
“Is this little Olivia?” An older man, wearing a tweed suit jacket despite the fact that we’re in the middle of the woods, squats down to say hello to Olivia. Then he reaches behind her ear, magically producing a flower in his hand. “Here you are, darling.”
“Daisy!” Olivia says, her voice loud. She smiles broadly, grasping it in her chubby little hand before she notices a set of toy cars in the middle of the floor.
“Wait, Olivia, your jacket!” I unzip her before she goes careening toward the cars. “Did you bring the cars for her?”
“Nope,” Luke says, taking my hand. “I believe that was River’s doing, actually.”
I thank her, before I’m whisked over to the sofa to become the center of attention. Oscar pours champagne and toasts our good fortune. “And to Autumn’s skills with a shotgun.”
“And to the fact that Tempest is an excellent attorney,” I say, raising my glass.
“About that…” Tempest says, smiling.
“You’re not an attorney,” I say, suddenly feeling like a total idiot. The woman who met with the District Attorney, had me released on my own recognizance instead of being arrested -- despite the fact that I admitted to shooting the town sheriff -- was not a lawyer at all.
“I’m not an attorney,” Tempest says. “But my alter ego Molly McAdams is, and she has a bar card and everything.” She holds up a glass of champagne. “And Molly is an excellent attorney, if I do say so myself.”
“She is quite skilled in the art of threatening to start a media scandal, isn’t she?” Iver says.
“It’s her specialty,” Tempest agrees.
“You were a very convincing lawyer,” I say. After the shooting, Luke tried to persuade me to let him take the fall for it, but I refused. There was no need to, since Jed Easton immediately confessed to the arson on my property and to attempted murder. He even admitted to taking bribes, and implicated the mayor in his crimes.
“It helped that Jed Easton confessed to everything,” Tempest says. “Not that I don’t deserve all your praise and accolades, though. Feel free to keep those coming.”
Oscar laughs. “I guess Jed and his father knew what they were getting into with the mining company,” he says. “The only way Jed could see to keep the mining company from taking them out was to confess and wind up in prison.”
“That’s fairly short-sighted, isn’t it?” I ask. “If the mining company has mafia connections, they’ll be able to reach them in prison, won’t they?”
“I think the District Attorney will push for solitary confinement, given the fact that they’re law enforcement,” Tempest says.
“They won’t make it a day in prison, even in solitary,” Luke says.
“How do you know?” I ask.
Silas smirks. “If the mining company doesn’t have Jed taken care of, the biker club will.”
“What biker club?” I ask, rem
embering that June’s husband Cade used to be a member of a biker club.
“Someone from a biker club out in California has an old beef with Jed Easton,” Oscar says, waving his hand dismissively. “There’s a bounty on his head. But that’s neither here nor there. Let’s talk about happier things. Like our good fortune with the mining company.”
“We recovered all of the land the company had purchased,” Iver says.
“So you’re sitting on a small fortune,” I realize. “Since the land is actually loaded with europium.”
“My dear, there’s nothing small about this fortune,” Oscar says. “And the property will go back to the rightful owners.”
“Another happy ending,” Iver says, raising his glass. “To many more happy endings. But grifter happy endings – to taking the bad guys and never getting caught.”
I lean over to whisper to Luke. “They toast a lot.”
“You have no idea,” he whispers, taking my hand in his.
“Did you mean what you said earlier?” I ask.
“About what?” he asks, his voice innocently. But he’s smiling, obviously pleased with himself.
“You know,” I whisper. “The L-word you used.”
He leans close, his mouth near my ear. “I totally meant to use that word,” he says. “With everything I have.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Luke
Six months later
“There you go!” I yell, clapping loudly. “You did such a great job!” Olivia runs with the unsteady gait of a two-year-old, back across the field toward me, totally forgetting about the soccer ball she just kicked in the opposite direction.
“I did it!” she yells.
“You did it!” I look over toward the front porch, the fresh coat of white paint gleaming in the sun. We had to have the kitchen and the porch redone after the fire, but now both are pristine. And now the place has a full gourmet kitchen, which is good for me.