by K. L. Kreig
I sat there for over an hour while he talked to my brother and another man, neither of whom I could see from my angle. I don’t remember a single word that was said, my entire focus solely on him. A million questions ran through my head, both then and now. I wanted to know anything and everything about Luke Colloway.
I quietly made my way back up the stairs only when he headed for the front door, slipping back into bed and falling into dreams of a man who’d made my blood sing and my body a live wire of desire without a single look or touch. I saw Luke three more times before I went back to Joliet, each time as I hid in the shadows like a love-struck stalker.
A few days before I left, I got up the courage to ask Eric about his “friends” in a general way, not letting on I knew anything about Luke in particular. He was short and terse and told me to mind my own business, which only fueled my intense interest in the man even further.
I’ve often thought about Luke over the years, wondering if he ended up in jail, like Eric. And wondering if he straightened his life out, like Eric. I still don’t know about the first part, but it seems like the latter is true. At least I hope it is—I don’t need to invite trouble to my doorstep.
As I watched Luke interact with his friends back then, I could tell he was an enigma and in my few interactions with him over these past few months, I see he hasn’t changed a bit. In fact, he’s even more so.
When he showed up at Firefly last September, I recognized him immediately. When Livia called him Grant, however, I was utterly confused. Once you see a perfect male specimen like Luke Colloway, you never forget him. He’d aged, of course, and time only made him sexier and darker, but I would recognize him anywhere.
After a few stolen moments alone with Luke, I asked him why Livia called him Grant. All he would offer was “it’s a nickname.” But after the blowup in the hospital when Livia was admitted, it was very evident something underlying was going on that I’d likely never be privy to. When I pressed Livia once, she would only say they had a complicated history. I even tried asking Eric; he swore he didn’t know anything either. I’m not sure I believe him.
Luke Colloway is a mystery, a conundrum. And I hate puzzles or riddles of any kind. I’m a logical, straightforward thinker. I have no patience for the mysterious. Typically, there’s a very good reason people try to hide behind their shrouds and if you go prying, you’ll regret it. So I don’t. But in Luke’s case, I find myself wanting to decipher him for some stupid, unknown reason.
Only, if I crack his code, I have no doubt regret won’t be the emotion taking up residence in my heart. He will consume me, use me, then ruin me. I’m not naïve enough to understand the only way Luke and I could ever end is in heartbreak.
Which is exactly why I have to find a way to squelch this burning inside me and avoid Luke Colloway as much as possible until I can find a way out of this fucking mess.
Chapter 6
“Run into something?” I ask taking in the shiner Bigs is now sportin’.
He shrugs, sliding into the seat across from me. I’m always in awe of how graceful he is for a six-foot-five, two hundred-and-forty-pound beast. “Trust me, he looks far worse.”
“He in custody then I take it?”
“Yep.” And that’s all I’ll get from Bigs. He does his job, he does it well, and he’s tight-lipped about giving details. Not that I generally care. I’m not that big of a talker anyway. “So, how’d it go with your new roomie after I left?” Bigs cajoles, a full-on grin eating his face. Fucker. He knows exactly how it went. He could see the steam pouring out of Addy’s ears as well as I could.
“We’re besties now.”
“Umm hmm.”
I have to admit I waited two hours for Addy to come back out of her room, my cock throbbing the entire time, before finally giving up. I heard her talking on the phone shortly after she shut me out and have to imagine she called Livia to confirm my story. I never took her for one to avoid conflict, but in all fairness, it was a shitty move on my part to just blindside her like that. I also know that asking permission from the woman who damn near matches me in the stubbornness department would get me nowhere, so I don’t regret the choice I made.
I need a place to live, a place I’m already paying for, even though I could easily afford to move somewhere else. Somewhere nicer. But I don’t want anyplace else. I want her and I can already tell she’s going to fight me, fight this magnetic pull between us every step of the way.
I didn’t miss the way her eyes dilated in sweet desire the second they landed on me. She was pissed, yes. She also wants me and won’t let herself have me. I plan on making it very fucking hard for her to resist me for long, even though I know I can’t give her everything she needs.
Addy’s an incredible woman and she deserves better than the likes of me, but fuck if I can resist anymore what I’ve been trying to fight for months. Her draw is too powerful. It’s selfish and an asshole thing to do, yet I want her so damn much, I can’t make myself do the right thing and just walk away.
“Couch is still open if you need help moving out,” he smirks.
“I’d rather slit my wrists.”
“Jesus man, that’s a little melodramatic.”
“Just being honest.” Besides, there’s not a damn thing in the world that would keep me away from Addy now that I’ve laid eyes on her again. I’d be lying if I said I could concentrate on a damn thing all day today, not being able to see her face this morning before I left. I may have even tested her door on my way by so I could take a peek. Locked, of course. Smart woman, that.
Bigs shakes his head, chuckling. “So, do you have anything else for me over the weekend or are you good ’til Monday?”
“Nah. I have two asset search requests that came in earlier and a few tracing requests. Those can wait until next week.”
“You get that contract signed with Warnf and Hardy?”
Warnf and Hardy is a local law firm and I recently negotiated an exclusive contract with them. My firm will handle anything and everything from insurance investigation to anything divorce related, like adultery and child custody, locating assets, marital property disputes, and everything else they want to throw at me. I’ve been working on that deal for months now. It’s a gig that helped me secure my move to Chicago, so it’s a big coup. It also means I need to add another body or two to keep up with the expanding workload.
“Had Melinda courier it over this morning. I have two interviews set up for next week. I want you to sit in.”
“You got it. So, are we hitting the bar tonight or what?”
“What? Your ball and chain going to cut the rope she’s tightly wrapped around your dick for the night?”
“Hey, fuck off. That’s not true.”
It so is. In all the years I’ve known Bigs, I’ve never seen him act like this with a single woman. He met Haddie just a few short weeks ago and he’s been dating her since. Although she still has her own place, I’m not sure why. They practically live together at his. He’s whipped and I may give him shit ’til the cows come home, but I’m happy for him. He deserves happiness. “Can’t. Family thing.”
Bigs studies me for a few seconds.
“Christ, spit it out,” I bark.
“Just wondering how things are going with your family, now that you’re reunited and shit.”
I sit a little dumbfounded at Bigs’ question. I’ve been friends with him since I was sixteen. He knows the rocky history between my family and me and he’s one of two people who knows what caused me to spiral out of control. If not for him and Eric Monroe, I’d probably be six feet under. Hell, I’m not sure I would have made it to my twentieth birthday. Bigs single-handedly saved me from myself and the drugs that took over my life at that confusing time. Too bad he couldn’t save me from so many other things, Peter Wilder included. But as I look back, I was where I was meant to be: saving my brother’s wife, even if it cost me a huge part of my own soul in the process. I would do it over and over again. For Livia.
And for Gray.
I look at my watch before answering. “Confession was last week, Bigs.”
“I think you missed church last week.” He grins, settling back in his chair for a nice long chit-fucking-chat.
I smirk. I don’t miss church. Not anymore. I need all the absolution I can get and on a very regular basis. I have so many sins to atone for, I could go to church daily and it still wouldn’t be enough. It will never be enough.
Once again, my conscience whispers at me to leave Addy Monroe alone. She’s too pure for you. Too good for you. And he’s right. Once again, I tell him to fuck off and take a flying leap off a short bridge. I need her. For some absurd reason, she quiets my demons and I’m so tired of them clamoring all the fucking time. I need a respite.
“You’re not gonna leave until I give you something, are you?”
“Ah, you know me so well.”
I glare at my friend, knowing he won’t back down. “It’s getting better,” I confess, giving him as little as possible but hopefully enough that he’ll leave it alone.
“Have you told your brothers or your mom about your dad?”
Guess not.
My sigh is deep and long. “No.”
“Will you ever?”
“No. It’s water under the bridge, man. All it would do is churn shit up that’s better buried with him. Why would I intentionally hurt them?”
“So they understand what the fuck happened, Luke. Your dad’s gone and you’re here. They deserve to know. I don’t know why you’ve shouldered a burden by yourself that’s not even yours to fucking carry, man.”
Bigs’ passionate plea hits me someplace deep. He’s a good friend, a good man, and it’s not very often he expresses his brotherly affection for me. He’s been telling me for years to come clean to my family about what I know. I just can’t do that to them.
They all think my dad was some kind of fucking saint, a hero, father of the year, but he was far from it. He fell off that white horse when I was sixteen. Who am I to tarnish their view of a man they’re all trying to emulate? Who am I to destroy the woman who loved him more than she did herself?
I can’t. I won’t. Like I said, I do have some honor I’m trying to hold onto, so by all that’s holy, I will take this secret to my grave.
My dad’s actions may have been the catalyst to my own martyrdom, but I’ve long accepted the bad choices I made were all mine. I own every single one of them. I was young and stupid and handled things badly, heading a hundred miles an hour blindly down the path of self-destruction.
By the time I did my penance, in walked Livia Kingsley. And so started three years of hell the likes of which I still can’t comprehend some days. Peter Wilder was a thug, an evil malevolent human being who deserves a special place in hell. He did a lot of vile and unforgivable things for the five years I was with him, but his indiscriminate and inhumane torture of an innocent could not go unpunished.
“I made my own decisions, Bigs.”
“Fourteen years is long enough. You deserve to put your demons behind you, Luke.” Bigs only calls me Luke when he means business. He’s serious as fuck right now.
He holds my eyes, silently challenging me to disagree. I do, but I don’t voice it. I’m done talking about shit that can’t be changed. Instead, I nod once, sharply.
“Right,” he replies, pushing himself to stand. He knows I’m done talking and he knows how this story ends. “See you Monday.”
A glance at the wall clock shows it’s after six. My office is about twenty minutes away from my new apartment. I have a family dinner I need to attend in little more than an hour so that gives me about fifteen minutes to shower and change before I need to head to Gray’s.
It takes me just a few minutes to straighten my desk and secure my files before I head out, locking the front door. As my bike roars to life, I find myself wondering what plans Addy has for tonight, wishing like hell I’d said I was busy when Gray called yesterday morning, so I could spend a night sparring with her. As it is, I already agreed. There’s no backing out now.
Oh well…there’s always tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that. I let a big smile curl my lips just thinking of the many ways I plan to break down Addy’s steely resolve to keep me from her bed. She may be hardheaded and tenacious, but my picture is in good ol’ Webster’s next to those two definitions, so even her “A” game won’t be good enough to best me.
I always get what I want. Eventually. And I definitely don’t play fair.
Chapter 7
“Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter under my breath. It’s already almost a quarter to seven. I want to shower before I have to head to Livia’s for dinner, but there’ll barely be time to change and freshen up before I have to leave. With Friday night traffic, it will likely be a forty-five minute drive into the city, so as it is, I’m already late.
I barrel through the front door, slamming it shut in my haste, and practically run to my bedroom. A quick scan of the living room shows no sign of Luke. Good. The last thing I’m in the mood for is a run-in with the man who’s vying for “asshole of the year” award. At least, Livia didn’t say Luke was attending dinner tonight. For that I’m thankful. It would have been a big fat no-go otherwise.
Today, I decided since I’ll never be able to bully Luke into moving out, I’m just going to make the best of it until October and find another place. In the meantime, I’m going to keep myself busy, so I have to spend as little time here as possible. It sounds good, in theory, yet in reality, I’m kind of a homebody and the thought of having to work late every night or find some other fake reason not to be in my own home makes me angry.
My sanctuary has been poisoned by a living, breathing, erotic walking piece of art. While most women would die to have Luke Colloway as a roommate, I am not most women. But I am most definitely female, and even I know I’m in trouble when it comes to resisting his somewhat unconventional charms. Avoidance is my only option, though, if I’m going to make it out emotionally unscathed.
I drop my purse on my bed and start stripping out of my paint-splattered shirt and jeans. Today I helped a customer on the wheel and let’s just say I spent the next hour cleaning up paint that had sprayed twenty feet across the studio. I got most of it off of my skin, I think, and if I didn’t, oh well. Livia will have to deal. It’s not like I’m out to impress anyone tonight, anyway.
Deciding I should let Livia know I’ll be late, I whip out my phone to text her when my skin begins to prickle. My eyes lift from my fingered frenzy only to land on the man who’s irritatingly preoccupied my every thought all goddamn day.
Standing proudly in my open doorway, Luke looks good enough to eat (literally), in his black molded jeans, scuffed black boots, and tight V-neck charcoal T-shirt. His face is scruffy and his unruly dark locks look freshly showered, combed with only his fingers.
Jesus, every time I look at him, I’m stunned breathless anew. His face looks like that of an avenging angel, but you know underneath he’s the devil incarnate. And I yearn for him to lavish his wickedness over every part of my body, even though I know he will taint me for all others.
Too late, I realize two things.
One: I didn’t think Luke was home, so I didn’t bother closing my bedroom door. I’ve lived alone now for months, and neither Livia nor I needed a lot of privacy before, so that’s a bad habit I’ll have to break immediately.
Two: I never got any further than removing my clothes, which now lie in a heap at my feet, so I’m facing my nemesis in my bright pink, practically see-through lacy bra and matching thong.
The look of blatant hunger on his face as his heated eyes rake slowly over my body weakens my knees…and my resolve. Damn him and the unnatural effect he has on me.
“Fuuuuck.” His impassioned drawl reaches my ears and holds a tone of awe I don’t think I’ve ever heard from a man before. Involuntary chills break out. I try to suppress the shiver they create but fail.
&nbs
p; Damn. Damn. Damn.
When his lustful gaze finally reaches mine, my traitorous sex readies herself for him to fulfill the silently declared promises I see swirling like thunderclouds in his hooded eyes.
Untold pleasures.
Blissful pain.
Yes. I remember word for word what he said months ago.
Word. For. Word.
We stand there lost in each other for I don’t know how long until logic finally trumps lust.
Wow. That took a long time.
“What the fuck, Luke?” I yell, stomping to slam my door in his face. Of course, he anticipates my move, stepping inside before I have the pleasure of trying to break his damn nose with the heavy wood.
“Big plans tonight, fireball?”
I stop, unwilling to move any closer, even though my body is being drawn to his like an invisible magnet. He’s struggling to keep his eyes on my face and I inwardly smile. “Yes,” I retort smartly. “Very big.”
“With who?” he demands. As if in slow motion, I watch the lust evaporate in an instant, replaced immediately with anger. How dare he?
I raise my chin a little. “Not your business, big guy,” I snip, throwing his words from yesterday back in his face.
We both stand our ground, once again locked in an age-old battle of wills until Luke’s phone dings. He takes it out of his jeans, not breaking eye contact. When he finally looks away to read his message, I breathe a sigh of relief, wondering why the hell I’m still standing here in my underwear, giving the man a free show.
I see a sly smile curve his mouth before he pockets his phone again. Before he turns to exit, his eyes deliberately drop one last time to my chest, which I’ve so readily put on display. They linger so long, I know he’s zeroed in on my beaded nipples poking through. “You have a good night, fireball.”
“Stop calling me that!” I yell childishly, pissed at myself for admiring the flex of his ass as he leaves. As soon as he clears the door, I shut and lock it for good measure. Although, I’m sure if Luke wants into my bedroom, he’ll just help himself, lock or not. Just like he helped himself to my apartment.