An Unlikely Bride

by Nadia Lee

  By the time I come out with an extra robe, he’s hanging up the phone. “Here,” I say.

  He shrugs into the robe and gestures at the loveseat. “Sit. Lunch will be here soon.”

  I curl up on the left side. “So. The answer.”

  “You have a one-track mind, you know that?”

  “You’re the one who left me hanging.” I haven’t forgotten the significance of our prematurely interrupted conversation.

  He sits next to me and stretches out his legs. “When I crashed my bike, I felt like I was dying.”

  The reminder of the horrible accident—how something as random and senseless like that could permanently take him away—chills my blood. I bring his hand to my lips and kiss the knuckles. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  His gaze softens for a moment before he continues, “And you know how people say when you’re about to die, your life flashes before your eyes? Well, that’s what happened to me, except everything that passed was about you and our memories together.” He takes my hand and kisses it. “I knew then that you were the only thing that mattered.”

  “And then I disappeared.” Because I couldn’t stand Blake’s cruel words or the possibility that Lucas had used me the way my father used my mom.

  “Yeah.” He makes a little spreading gesture with the tips of his fingers. “Poof.”

  “I’m sorry. We wasted so much time. If I hadn’t run…”

  “Don’t. I could’ve gone after you, but I didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I thought you’d come back once you realized what we had together and what you’d given up.”

  The idea of him waiting for me makes me ache. He doesn’t know how hopeless that was because I never told him. “I would’ve never come back.”

  Our food arrives. After the server sets up our table, Lucas signs the bill and takes the seat across me. He gestures at an array of beverages. “I ordered one of everything, since I didn’t know what you wanted.”

  I take a Diet Coke and let it fizz into a heavy, square glass over ice. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks.” He levers the cap off a beer. “So. You were saying…”

  I sip my drink and nibble on a fry. It’s crispy outside and soft inside. Perfect. “I never told you this. Actually, I never told anyone. The people who know know because they saw it.”

  “So Bennie knows.”

  “Yeah.” I reach for another fry. Lucas takes a bite of mashed potatoes piled high next to a sizable pork chop. “When I got home after the hospital visit, I looked you up. Until then I’d never bothered because…well, I don’t know. I just never did. It hadn’t seemed all that important. But there were tons of articles about you online. And when I saw the ones with you and Faye together, I just felt…dirty and gross, and as far as I was concerned, it was over.”

  “Ava…” He reaches for my hand, and I let him hold it and hang on tight. We need this connection so that no matter what I say, we’ll know we’re okay.

  “I told you about how poor my family was when I was growing up, but I didn’t tell you everything. My parents didn’t marry…and my mother blamed me. She was certain if I’d been a boy, Dad would’ve done ‘the right thing.’”

  Lucas shakes his head. “Completely unfair of her.”

  “She wasn’t rational when it came to my father. She was crazy about him, just obsessed, even though he was hardly ever home. He was…” I pause, debating how to say the rest without sounding pitiful. But what am I thinking? The story is pathetic no matter how I spin it, and just moments ago, I promised to be truthful. “He claimed to be a truck driver, so he was away a lot. Always missed holidays and birthdays, anniversaries…every date that mattered. I can’t think of a single time he celebrated a birthday or holiday with us.”

  Sympathy softens Lucas’s expression. “We’ll never miss birthdays and holidays. I promise.”

  I give him an aching smile. When he makes a promise like that in such a solemn voice, it’s impossible for me to not to fall even deeper in love with him. “Then there was a car accident. He didn’t make it, and Mom and I were devastated. But nothing could’ve prepared for us for facing his wife and daughter.”

  I tighten my hand around his until my knuckles pale. Only Bennie and Elle know this humiliating chapter of my life. “They were so beautifully dressed in designer clothes. His wife’s skin was so smooth, so well taken care of. She was nothing like my mom, who worked herself ragged to support me. And the daughter… She was the kind of girl who led the popular kids in high school, you know?”

  Lucas nods.

  “Then we learned Dad wasn’t a poor trucker, but a bank manager. He might not have been filthy rich, but he was pretty damn comfortable. He just wanted to play at being a roughneck when he was bored with his white-bread suburban life, go slumming for some kicks with a woman he considered beneath him. I was basically the result of a failed condom. Which explained why he’d never bothered to spend any quality time with us. We didn’t matter. We were just a dirty little secret he kept for cheap thrills. He left everything to his real family. It devastated my mom so much that she just…came unhinged and drank herself to death.”

  “So when you found about me and Faye, you thought I was doing to you when your dad did to your mother.”

  I nod.

  Letting go of his fork, he rubs his face with a hand. “Christ, Ava.”

  “It’s hard for me to take a person’s word for something, especially when it comes to relationships. That’s why I’d have never come back after leaving the hospital, and why I didn’t want to listen to you when the deal between you and your father became public. I was starting to get obsessed with you, and I felt like I was becoming my mother.”

  “I’m sorry. I never knew…”

  “How could you? I didn’t tell you, and I’m not famous enough to be Googleable.”

  A small smile quirks. “Googleable?” The smile disappears. “I’m glad you aren’t. I don’t want anybody to know about you. I want you to be mine alone.”

  There’s a tiny edge of need in his tone that guts me. I squeeze his hand. “You have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “It’s a miracle you came back, given your background.”

  “I wasn’t going to, but weighing my fear and the pain of losing you forever… I had no choice.”

  “Faye.”

  I nod, then bite my lip as jealousy unfurls within me. “I know you care a great deal about her.”

  “We were lovers years before I met you, and I like her. She’s older and more experienced than me and doesn’t play games. It’s…refreshing to be with someone like that.”

  I drink some Coke to wash away the bitter taste in my mouth. I always thought I wanted to know the whole story about Faye and Lucas, but now that he’s talking, I’m not sure if I really want to hear it.

  “But she’s not you, Ava. Nobody can be you. You’re the only woman who’s made me yearn.”

  The quiet intensity of his gaze and voice ripples over me. It soothes the wounds of my soul, and I close my eyes to savor the warm, sweet moment.

  “When I saw you for the first time at that restaurant, it was like seeing my fate. My future.”

  I grin. “You liked my body. I remember you checking me out.” An understatement; he’d stripped me bare with his eyes.

  “Nice bodies and pretty faces are dime a dozen. You were different.” He takes a bite of his lunch and lets the silence stretch for a moment.

  “Then why did you act like you didn’t want me back? You never wanted to stay the night or take me to meet your family or friends. If they’d seen me before the accident, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.”

  He hesitates.

  “You don’t want to talk about it,” I say finally.

  His fingers twitch. “It’s not that. I’m trying to figure out how to say it so I can avoid looking like an idiot…” He sighs. “Okay, it was my fault. Even as I wanted you, I was fighting it. I felt like I didn�
�t deserve that kind of love.”

  Then I know. “Your mother.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I shake my head. “Don’t do that. We promised to be honest with each other, and you’re not. It’s not fair.”

  “You’re right, it’s not. I’m sorry. No, I don’t want to talk about her.”

  “Okay.” He isn’t willing to open up yet, so I’m not going to push it. After all, we can’t continue to have mutual respect and honesty if we refuse to let the other person be. I’m afraid to push too hard and ruin what we have. “Then can you tell me about the deal between you and your father? What the tabloids said… It’s true, isn’t it?”

  He nods, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “Basically. What they didn’t publish is that the whole thing came about because Dad was furious we missed his Wedding Number Six.”

  “To some woman who isn’t even half his age.” I saw that part too on the Internet.

  “I’d be surprised if she finished high school. She’s so young she could’ve been our sister.”

  “He must love her, though.”

  Lucas snorts a laugh. “He can’t stand his wives. His ego was hurt that we didn’t show. Blake, Ryder and Elizabeth opted to attend their cousin’s wedding—it was his first marriage, after all—and Elliot and I chose not to go because after a while, you don’t want to be part of your parents’ circus. But Dad wanted to make a point, and he knew he could use the portraits to get to us. There were some complications with Grandpa’s will, and the paintings went to my father, who thinks we’re all a bunch of worthless losers, and that our grandfather was too soft on us.”

  “That’s awful. He’s your father.”

  “A reluctant father. I’m sure he regrets he didn’t ask his wives to get abortions.”

  I gasp.

  “We were just bargaining chips in the divorces, although it didn’t work out the way he wanted with me and Elliot.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because our mother didn’t try to win custody. She preferred a fatter alimony payment.”

  My image of Lucas as a child, growing up in abundance with everything a person could want, crumbles. Everything online portrayed an enviable life, and I accepted it all without question. “So what’s so special about the portraits?” I ask. “Everyone seemed to be focused on how much they’re worth, but that’s not it, is it?”

  “Their monetary value isn’t even a consideration for us.” He jabs the air with his fork. “I’m not denying they’re each worth millions of bucks, but let’s face it. We don’t need the money. If we get them, none of us will ever sell them. The value—to us—is entirely sentimental. Our grandfather painted them when we turned eighteen, and they show the potential and greatness he saw in us.”

  “They must be amazing. I wish I could see the one of you.”

  Lucas shifts his weight, then reaches for his beer. “It’s pretty romanticized. Grandpa only saw the best in everyone.”

  “I don’t see the best in everyone, but I think you’re incredible.” I finish the last of my fries. My mind is made up. “Let’s get married.”

  He stares at me as though I’ve asked him to climb Everest in the nude. “Ava…we can’t.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “I didn’t go after you to get the painting.”

  “I know, and that’s fine. I just think that now—”

  “I won’t marry you. Now yet.”

  Well, this is unexpected. I cast about for the right argument. “But that means your father’s going to win.”

  He shrugs.

  “Don’t you want to win?”

  “Yes.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You aren’t marrying anyone else, Lucas Reed!”

  “Absolutely not. I told you already, you’re the only one for me. But I’m not marrying you either, not until the six months is up, because I’m not giving you any cause to doubt my love for you again.”

  Now it becomes clear. “Lucas…I won’t.”

  But he isn’t listening. “My brothers and sister will just have to get over it. I’ll find a way to make it up to them.”

  “But you were going to marry Faye…”

  “I didn’t love her, Ava. It’s not the same thing.”

  “You’re right, it’s not. This way, you get both the painting and the woman you really do love. So what’s the problem?”

  “If anything happens between us because of the damned deal…” He inhales roughly. “I can’t go through…everything…again.”

  “Have you imagined how I’d feel if I cost you something so important to you and your siblings?”

  “You aren’t costing me anything. Even if you were, you’re worth a hundred such portraits. My decision is final.”

  “But—”

  “Next week’s Thanksgiving. Are you flying to Charlottesville or are you staying in the city?” From the hard set of his jaw, he’s not doing to budge.

  I sigh. “Staying in L.A.”

  “Great. Ryder’s hosting dinner. Friends and family only. I’m invited, and so are you.”

  My jaw slackens. “Me? At Ryder Reed’s?” Ryder isn’t just Lucas’s brother but a Hollywood megastar. If I weren’t in love with Lucas, I might be in love with Ryder…like millions of other women.

  “You’re my plus-one.”

  Shock, excitement and nerves war inside me, each side evenly matched. Then reality intrudes. “Lucas, I’d love to. But I already have plans. Darcy and Ray are flying out to celebrate together, and I can’t leave them alone.”

  “Then they’re invited too.”

  “Lucas! You can’t just—”

  “Ryder said to bring as many people as I want. And believe me, there’s space.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Did he maybe say that because he was pretty certain you wouldn’t bring anyone except Faye?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe.”

  I seize the opening. “When he finds out he’s going to lose the painting he married his assistant for, he’s going to be furious with me.”

  “No, he won’t. And I’m not talking about this again with you, Ava.”

  “But—”

  “I mean it.”

  He places his napkin by the plate and gets up. His arms go around me, pulling me up, and I know the discussion is over for now. But if he thinks this is the end of it, he has another think coming. I’m not going to let him lose something that means so much to him because of my insecurities.

  His gaze on mine, he slowly lowers his head, giving me a chance to turn away.

  There’s no way.

  The first touch of his lips at the corner of my mouth is tender but sensual. Tingles start and spread in sweet ripples, tightening my nipples and pooling between my legs. Feeling wickedly wanton, I shrug a shoulder, letting the robe slip down, exposing a breast.

  He continues to kiss me. If I didn’t feel his cock getting harder and thicker against my belly, I might’ve never known that he noticed. I do the same with the other shoulder so I’m standing topless. His unhurried seduction of my mouth leaves me breathless, my limbs weak. The only thing that’s keeping me up is Lucas’s hands wrapped around my waist.

  “You’re so beautiful. So sweet,” he whispers. “I could live on nothing but you.” A deep groan vibrates in his chest, and I feel it through my nipples all the way to my clit. I whimper, needy and wanting this moment to go on forever.

  He picks me up and carries me to bed. Without breaking the kiss, he lays me down in the center of the mattress and unties the robe. I push his out of the way, annoyed there’s anything between us. I clutch his wide shoulders, marveling at his strength, grateful that he’s mine.

  I came so close to losing him because of fear.

  “I feel like an idiot, wasting so much of our time together. If I’d just given you five minutes, we could’ve had this all along,” I murmur.

  “Don’t blame yourself. You weren’t ready to listen and believe what I had to say.”

  He’s right. But that doesn�
��t make it any better.

  “Now stop thinking,” he whispers. “And just feel.”

  His clever mouth travels along my jaw line and the sensitive skin of my neck. He slowly traces the underside of my breast, his fingertips barely touching. I arch my back for more concrete contact and get rewarded when his big hand closes firmly around my breast. My nipple pulses as he drags his thumb slowly across it, up and down. Lust pulses through me, and I am indecently wet. “Lucas. Don’t tease me.”

  “I want to learn your body again. I want to take my time and relearn everything there is to know.”

  He lets his mouth travel slowly down my torso, all along my curves. He breathes against the small mounds of my breasts, and I spread my legs wider, heat thrumming in my veins.

  “Not yet.”

  He takes the tip of my breast into his mouth, sucking hard. The sensation is so sharp, so electrifying, that my back arches of its own volition. The emptiness between my legs aches so badly, I cry out, undulating my pelvis.

  With deliberate care, he thumbs my clit and hisses. “You’re so damn wet.”

  “I want you.”

  “You have me. You’ll always have me.”

  Two thick fingers plunge inside, gliding in smoothly. I groan at the sensation, but it isn’t over. He licks the glistening fingers, then switches position, getting under me with my legs on each side of his chest.

  “Sit on my face, Ava.”

  My cheeks heat.

  “Come on. Straddle my head and let me tongue-fuck you, taste your orgasm.”

  The image that comes to my mind is so wicked and hot, I can’t breathe. But I don’t want to come alone. I want him with me.

  I reach behind and wrap my hand around his erection. His engorged shaft pulses, the tip wet with pre-cum. Oh, that’s right…he doesn’t have a condom. I smile wickedly.

  “You can tongue-fuck me all you want. But I’m turning around.”

  His cheeks flush, and heat darkens his eyes until they’re pure black.

  “Deal?”

  He nods.

  I clamber around and position myself so we can pleasure each other at the same time. His fingers dig into my pelvis as he runs the flat of his tongue along my folds. Sanity quickly departs as his hot breaths fan against the most sensitive tissues in my body, and he devours me as though I’m the best dessert in the universe. Lust sears through me, and I feel like my blood is boiling. I pull him into my mouth, wanting him to share the moment.