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Lucky Strike

Page 9

by M Andrews


  I drop my duffel bag on the floor and race to the kitchen, grabbing the fire extinguisher off the wall on my way. I find Lucky in the kitchen using the sprayer on the sink in an attempt to put out the burning chicken—maybe a ham, whatever it was it’s burnt to shit now. I hose the burning carcass down with the extinguisher, then dump the remains of dinner into the sink and turn off the oven. Which I see was set to broil, no wonder that bastard went up in flames.

  “I’m sorry, Ryder. I was just trying to make you dinner and the next thing I know my chicken is in flames and I burnt the mashed potatoes. It’s just a huge mess.” She slumps down to the floor, resting her face in her hands.

  I kneel down in front of her, pulling her hands away from her face. “Lucky, that was very sweet of you, but you and I both know you can’t cook for shit.” I stifle a laugh. “You forget I was there for the great mac and cheese debacle of two thousand and three. When you nearly burnt down my parents’ kitchen.”

  “I know, but I see what Brooke does for Brian and I know Lucy would have dinner on the table every night for Colton. And I thought that’s how I needed to be for you.”

  “Lucky, that’s who Brooke and Lucy are, but that’s not you. I don’t want or expect you to cook and clean for me because let’s face it I can do it better than you. Being the happy housewife, who greets me at the door with a drink is not who you are. But if you did greet me at the door naked, now I wouldn’t protest to that.”

  Mid-eye roll, I see she can’t fight back the smile tugging at her lips.

  “Jesus, Ryder, you fucking horn dog.” Her smile erupting over her face.

  “Just knowing I get to come home to you every night and have you in my bed, not only makes me hard but incredibly happy.” I lean in and press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll help clean up this mess then we can order out. Sound good?”

  “That sounds perfect.” She smiles as I help her up off the floor. “So how was your day, dear?” She softly giggles.

  “It was pretty boring until Edwards and I hit up the gun range after lunch. I took him for all he had.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the wad of cash. A hundred bucks in all.

  “Looks like Dylan is buying us dinner tonight.” She snickers.

  “He learned his lesson not to mess with the best. How was your day?” I ask, setting the pot of burnt mashed potatoes in the sink.

  “I think I’m going a little stir crazy being cooped up in this apartment all day. I actually thought I could cook. I think it’s time I get a job. I know Bridget will give me a job back at the club in a heartbeat.”

  Not the fucking strip club.

  Anything but that damn club.

  I have never liked Lucky stripping. I know she did it as a necessity in San Francisco, but she doesn’t need to keep doing that. I can take care of her, so she can paint and teach art and not have to worry about paying the bills. She has too much potential to be throwing her life away stripping.

  “What about teaching art classes again?”

  “I would love to, but the art schools around here aren’t hiring right now. I need to do something before I lose my mind. This is a guaranteed paycheck,” she replies.

  “What about helping Lucy at the coffee shop? She’s opening that second location, so she’s going to need some help.”

  Just imagining Lucky dancing and taking her clothes off for anyone but me, makes me sick to my stomach. I can’t even wrap my head around why she wants to go back to stripping.

  “What’s your problem with me stripping? You didn’t seem to have an issue with it before?” Her smile fades, her eyes narrowing at me, and there’s that annoyed look Lucky gets when people try to tell her what to do.

  “Look, I just don’t like the idea of you dancing naked for those creepy assholes. I never have. You’re so much better than stripping. You could sell your paintings… or shit, be a fucking tattoo artist. Do fucking anything but work at that damn club.”

  She pushes me away and stumbles around the kitchen island. Generally, when I confront her on her shit, she runs for her own apartment, but now she has no place to go. For once, she has to face the music head on.

  Lucky starts walking toward the door, each step slower than the next when she realizes she has nowhere to hide. She spins around on her heels. Her green eyes dark, angry and searing into me. A look I’m all too familiar with, I’ve just never been on the receiving end of it before. That pissed off look could make a bear run for its life.

  “Where do you get off trying to tell me what I can and cannot do?” she sneers. “This is my goddamn life, not yours. You can make demands of me all you want while we are in bed, but you will not tell me how to live my life.” She walks back over to me and stands up on her tiptoes getting right in my face. “I have let far too many people dictate my every move, and I’m not going to let you of all people walk all over me. I am going to get my job back whether you like it or not.”

  “Fine, you do what you want, Nadine, like you always do. God forbid you ever take anyone else’s feelings into consideration,” I snap back.

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “It means, the only person you ever think about is yourself. I get you went through some shit with your parents and that asshole Jackson. But I’m not them, and I don’t deserve to be punished for what they did to you. All I want is to take care of you and make it so you don’t have to strip anymore. But that apparently makes me an asshole.”

  Shifting the weight on my feet, I walk around her and head for the door. I can’t deal with her anymore. I need a drink before I say something I might regret. I love this woman, but she’s one of the most infuriating human beings I have ever met.

  “Where the hell do you think you are going? We aren’t done talking about this Ryder,” she calls out from behind me.

  “Sorry Nadine, but I’m done.”

  “Ryder!”

  The door comes to a close with a loud thud. One that sends a cold chill through my body. Ryder is gone. He just fucking left in the middle of our fight. This is a weird and scary turn of events, and what has me completely shattered is that he used my real name. He’s never once called me Nadine, not even on the day we met. He’s pissed and I don’t know if he’s coming back.

  I should be just as angry as he is, he had the balls to tell me he didn’t want me stripping anymore. But seeing that disappointed look in his eyes and watching him walk out that door, I have this gnawing feeling of guilt in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know what to do to make this go away. I need Lucy, she’ll know what I should do.

  I run up the stairs to the bedroom and grab the phone off my nightstand and type up a quick text.

  Me: I just got into a huge fight with Ryder and he walked out. I don’t know what to do, I need you.

  I hit send then slump down on the bed, trying not to let my mind go to the worst scenarios, but sadly it doesn’t work. Ryder calling me Nadine has me completely rattled. What if we are over before we even got started? Before my head can go any further into the darkness, my phone dings.

  Lucy: It was just a fight. He just needs time to cool off.

  Me: He called me Nadine.

  Lucy: I’m on my way.

  Fifteen minutes later, I hear Lucy knocking on my door. I race downstairs for the door. Hands fumbling with the knob. The door flings open and I grab Lucy by the lapels of her coat and pull her over the threshold. She steadies herself on her feet again while I close the door.

  “Okay, tell me what happened?”

  “I was talking with Ryder about how I’ve been going a little stir crazy not working. I mentioned that Bridget would give me my job back down at the club. Since none of the art schools are hiring right now.” I follow Lucy to the kitchen, where we both take a seat on the bar stools at the kitchen island. “The moment I mentioned the club, Ryder freaked out and told me he didn’t want me dancing there anymore. You know me, I went into full bitch mode and we got into a huge fight. I don’t know what his problem is with me s
tripping? It never bothered him before, at least, that’s what I thought.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, none of us have ever liked the fact that you were a stripper… especially Ryder. On the nights you were dancing, Ryder was a cranky pain in my ass. He blames Jackson for making you have to strip in the first place,” she informs me.

  “So this whole time you’ve all have been lying to me about supporting my decision to strip?” Some friends they are. I cannot believe that after all this time Lucy, Brian, and Ryder have been fucking lying to me.

  “I’m not going to sugar coat this for you sweetheart, but you are a walking cliché. Look, I get that you have parent issues. I was there for all the fights, and when they kicked you out for not going to law school. I was also there when Jackson left you the first time, the second time, and let’s not forget about the third time that asshole left you and you almost ended up homeless.” The disappointment in her voice wraps around every syllable that slips from her lips. It’s making the knots in my stomach twist even harder. “I get that stripping gives you some crazy sense of control in your twisted life, but you’re not twenty-two anymore. You are a fucking adult with a man who loves you and wants to take care of you.” She slides her hand over mine. “That man loves you more than anything in this world. He’d take a fucking bullet for you.” The disappointment in her eyes fades and a sincere look takes over.

  “Ryder is not Jackson and he’s not your parents. His love comes unconditionally. Ryder genuinely wants to take some of the burden off your shoulders, so you can be happy for once in your life. Put yourself in Ryder’s shoes, would you want him going out in front of a room full of screaming, horny women, taking off all of his clothes?”

  I never thought about it like that before. I’ve never actually put anyone’s feelings ahead of mine, so this a strange new concept for me. But if the shoe were on the other foot, I would hate it if Ryder was a stripper. It was bad enough that I had to see him flirting with other women before we got together, let alone watch him parade around in a banana hammock in front of a bunch of screaming woman. “Of course not, I would hate every minute of that.”

  “Now you know how Ryder feels. He finally has you, and he doesn’t want to have to share you with anyone again. I know you hate asking us for help, but if you really do want to start working again, you always have a job at the coffee shop. You can even sell some of your paintings there, too. I still get people trying to make me offers for the fairy wonderland you did for me.” She softly smiles. “I love you, Lucky, and I just want you and Ryder to be happy.”

  “That’s assuming Ryder comes home.” My eyes drop down to my hands in my lap, my black nail polish slightly melted off from the fire. When Jackson and I would fight, he would leave and not come back for days if at all. My heart wants to believe that Ryder will come back, but my head is telling me he’ll leave me like everyone else, and that I should just leave to save myself the broken heart. It doesn’t matter how far I run the heartache will catch up to me.

  “Oh, no you don’t. I know that look, you’re not going to shut down like you always do.” Lucy’s fingers slide under my chin, forcing my eyes back up to hers. “Ryder will be back. He just needs time to cool off, and you need to be here when he comes walking through that door. You promised no more running, now you better keep that fucking promise. Do you understand me?”

  I sheepishly nod yes. I feel completely disgusted with myself for even letting my head go to my dark place.

  “Fighting sucks, and with you and Ryder both having alpha personalities it’s inevitable that you will butt heads again. So you can’t keep thinking the worst is going to happen, and you sure as hell can’t run every time the going gets tough.”

  “I said no more running and I meant it. But it’s hard sometimes. I’ve never had the best influences in the relationship department. My dad cheated on my mom constantly with his secretaries and my mom just let it happen. Like how I turned a blind eye to Jackson, because in our twisted DNA both my mother and I thought that was the kind of love we deserved. I don’t know how to accept or feel real love.” Talk about major Mommy and Daddy issues. Lucy is right, I am a fucking cliché. Using stripping to get attention and to feel in control. I’m just as bad as the dancers I made fun of. But I’m just like them. Lost, scared little girls who just want attention any way we can get it.

  “You don’t have to end up like your mom, Lucky. You have the opportunity to change your fate. You can choose to be happy and be with the man who wants to bring you that happiness. You just have to learn how to compromise a little bit and know Ryder isn’t going anywhere.”

  She slides down from her stool and pulls me into her arms in a big warm hug.

  “Thank you, Lucy.” I wrap my arms around her waist, squeezing her tightly. I don’t want to end up like my mother. Like some dead behind the eyes, gin-soaked zombie who cries herself to sleep every night because my husband can’t keep his dick in his pants. I put up with enough of that from Jackson.

  “Why don’t I help you clean up this mess?” Lucy takes a few steps back and slips off her jacket. She looks around at the disaster that was me foolishly thinking I could cook. She just shakes her head as she walks around the kitchen island to grab a rag from under the sink. “What made you think you could cook?” She giggles under her breath while lifting out the burnt remains of my chicken out of the sink.

  “Brooke makes it look so easy. I just thought I could do it.” I shrug, pulling the garbage can around to the sink.

  “Oh sweetheart, you can paint the most beautiful pictures and turn a slab of clay into a vase, but cooking will never be your thing.”

  “I realize that now. Guess that means I should work the coffee counter at the shop. I do make a mean cup of coffee.” I give her a sideways glance, waiting for it to click in her head what I just said.

  Lucy pauses mid-wipe of the counter, her head slowly turns back to me. Her big chocolate brown eyes widely gazing at me. “Are you really taking me up on my offer to work at the coffee shop?”

  “Yes. You’re right it’s time for me to put stripping in the past and move forward. But I’m only working for you until a position opens up at one of the art schools.”

  Lucy lets out an excited squeal and starts jumping around the kitchen. “We are going to have so much fun working together.”

  Maybe working with Lucy isn’t such a good idea.

  A warm wet tongue sweeping across my face stirs me awake. I crack an eye open to see Spike’s slobbery mug staring back at me. Not the face I was hoping to wake up to. I look over at Ryder’s side of the bed finding it empty. I reach for my phone to check the time—one-forty-two. I haven’t woken up at this time since Ryder found me in San Diego. And what’s worse, there are no messages from him. I lay back on my pillow, staring up at the ceiling and that’s when I see the light from Ryder’s gym coming through the windows.

  I pull back the covers and rest my feet on the cold wooden floors while I slip on my nightgown. I quietly tip toe down the stairs and into the dimly lit gym, where I find Ryder taking out his frustrations on the punching bag.

  He’s dressed in just a pair of thin dark blue shorts, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. His heavy breathing and grunts filling the air as his fists rain down on the bag. The light above him illuminating his perfectly sculpted body. Every inch of him taut and firm muscle. He’s pure raw masculinity and he’s all mine. I hope he still is.

  I hide behind the racks of free weights and watch as his muscles move under his tanned skin. The same muscles I gaze upon when he makes love to me. Lost in my own thoughts, I lean against the weight rack, accidentally knocking over one of the weights, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud thud. Ryder quickly spins around, his cold hard expression softens when he spots me standing by the boxing ring.

  “What are you doing here?” His deep, gruff voice echoes across the empty space. I can feel myself blushing as his eyes rake over me. Realizing I’d forgotten to put a robe on over my short p
ink lace nightgown. The soft light above me making it almost see through.

  “I couldn’t sleep. And I saw the light from the gym. I’m sorry if I disturbed your workout,” I mumble. He’s the only man that can make me shy and timid. “Ryder about our fight, I’m so sor—” Before I can finish my apology Ryder cuts me off.

  “No more talking. Come here,” he demands.

  I swallow hard. My feet hesitating at first until I finally will them to move. Slowly I walk over to him, watching as he pulls the tape off from his hands. I stop in front of him and I can smell his manly musky scent, so much so I can almost taste it on the tip of my tongue. His fingers trail down my arm, sending a shudder down my spine. He wraps his hand around my arm and roughly spins me around, so we are both facing the wall of mirrors across the room.

  His rough fingers slip under the thin straps of my nightgown, slowly sliding them down my arms until the lace pools down at my feet, leaving me completely naked and exposed. Ryder’s blues growing darker as he eyes me up and down in the mirror. I can feel his dick growing hard through the thin fabric of his shorts.

  “You’re so beautiful Lucky.”

  I let out a sigh of relief when I hear my name slip from his lips.

  “This body is mine, Lucky. No one, and I mean no one will ever see you like this but me. No other man will ever put his hands on these curves...” his hand ghosts over the curve of my hip, “…these gorgeous tits...” he cups my breast in his other hand, massaging and rolling my nipple between his fingers, “…and the only dick this ass will ever grind against is mine. Do you understand me?” He holds me in his hot dark gaze, waiting for my reply.

  “Yes,” I answer in a breathy whisper.

  He spins me back around. His head dips down capturing my lips in a hot, deep kiss. His warm tongue dominating my mouth. He cups the back of my hair pulling my head back, kissing and licking down the nape of my neck and dipping his tongue between my breasts.

 

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