by K. L. Kreig
“No. She’ll have a beer,” Luke interjects leaning nonchalantly against the granite island. He sounds authoritative. Commanding. And pissed. Gray’s already handed him a Heineken, which he’s tipped to his lips while keenly watching me over the top of the green glass bottle.
“Are you for real?” I rant, stalking right up to him. I could give a shit that we’re going to have another audience for our verbal throw down. What the hell…seems to be our thing. “I’ll have whatever the fuck I want. Just because you bulldozed your way into my home does not mean you can bulldoze your way into the rest of my life, Luke Colloway. I’m a grown fucking woman and I can make my own decisions. And if I want tequila, by God, I’m going to have fucking tequila!”
“That was a lot of ‘fucks,’” he drawls mockingly. I grit my teeth hard, biting my tongue in the process. Damn him, the bastard. Then he closes the small space between us, lowering his voice. “Have you forgotten what happened last time you drank tequila, fireball?”
No. No, I have not. I haven’t had a two-day hangover since college, although I did have one after that night. I swore off tequila after that, but I’m so damn wound up, I need something strong to take the edge off. And a beer just won’t cut it. “Stop calling me that, asshole.”
“Because I haven’t,” he continues, unfazed. “I haven’t forgotten how you passed out cold in my arms or how I held your hair as you puked into the garbage can or how your breathing was so shallow all night long I thought you had alcohol poisoning and I was going to have to take you to the hospital.”
I freeze, digesting what he just said. I play it repeatedly to make sure I heard it right. Thinking back to that horrible night, I remember when I woke at almost noon on Sunday. I was in my bra and panties with an old ratty CSU Cougar T-shirt thrown over me and no idea how I’d gotten that way. I couldn’t remember a thing past being lifted into Luke’s arms at the bar and the safety I’d felt in them.
“You stayed?” I breathed, suddenly very uncomfortable with everything he must have witnessed that night. My teeth find my bottom lip. They always do when I’m anxious.
He gently grabs my chin between his finger and thumb, running the pad back and forth hypnotically. I want to yank away from his touch as much as I want to lean into it. But I do neither.
“Of course I stayed. I wasn’t about to dump and run. I’m not as big of a prick as you make me out to be, Addy.”
I’m speechless, and that doesn’t happen very often. His intense gaze has me completely trapped and I’m unable to do a thing other than fall a little bit further into Luke, against my better judgment and definitely against my will.
“Please, Addy,” he softly beseeches. He releases my chin, only to whisper a finger across my cheek, tucking a wayward hair behind my ear. It’s intimate. Tenfold over that blistering kiss he gave me less than an hour ago.
My knees feel weak. My head, jumbled. My face burns where he just touched me. It’s as if my decision on which alcoholic beverage I drink means more to him than anything else in this moment.
Holy shit. If I thought the fork-tongued Luke was impossible to resist, that doesn’t hold a candle to the caring, sensitive one standing in front of me right now. This is the first time I’ve been personally gifted with the side of Luke that Livia regularly sees. The one I’ve gotten only rare glimpses of.
I like it. Way too much.
Danger, danger, Will Robinson. Danger!
“Okay, fine,” I concede, mumbling the words.
He nods slightly, looking more relaxed than he did a minute ago. I have to fight the silly urge to wrap my arms around him. I turn to see Livia and Gray watching with looks akin to cats that swallowed a canary, particularly Gray.
Damn them.
“I need the bathroom,” I announce before I slink away for a few precious moments alone to regroup.
Once I’m behind the closed door, I lean against it and let the confusion of the last hour wash over me. My emotions seesaw more with this man than with anyone else in my entire life. One minute I’m ready to set a horde of angry bees on him and the next I want to throw him down and ride him until my cells are imprinted in his, so even thinking of another woman causes him to writhe in agony.
But right now? Right this minute, I just want to feel the warmth and comfort of his arms holding me like I’m his. Which is utterly ridiculous. I’m not his. I’ll never be his. Men like Luke don’t commit. They flit, like butterflies (or dicks), from one vagina to the next. That doesn’t stop my foolish heart from wanting him regardless.
That’s my problem.
I want the impossible.
I always do.
Chapter 10
What the hell was I thinking, making a scene like that in front of my brother and his wife? I wasn’t. Clearly. But the thought of Addy numbing her discomfort or whateverthefuck she’s trying to do with that poison damn near had me feral.
I wasn’t lying when I said I spent that entire night worried as hell. Twice I damn near packed her up in my rental car and drove her to the ER. She would wake long enough to vomit and then fall back into a deep sleep. So deep, I thought she was in a coma. Only an asshole would leave her alone in that shape, so I spent the night with her in my arms, staring at the ceiling, fighting sleep, relishing and remembering every second of how it felt to hold her. It was fucking heaven.
That’s when I knew.
This woman belongs to me. The kiss we shared earlier just confirms what I already knew to be true.
No one has ever felt so right pressed against me, not that I’ve given a lot of women that opportunity, mind you. And she won’t remember—she was too blitzed, but she clung to me all night long between her bouts of throwing up. I never wanted her to know I stayed and took care of her. I knew she’d react just like she did now.
Embarrassed.
Defensive.
Closed off.
Don’t lie to yourself, Colloway. You didn’t want her to know because you don’t want her to think you care about her, even when that’s the furthest thing from the truth.
“What was that all about?” Gray inquires. Addy’s fled to the safety of the bathroom; the doorbell just rang and Livia’s gone to answer it. I can hear Alyse’s laugh and Asher’s deep voice. I know we have about sixty seconds until they’re back and our privacy will be gone for the night.
“I have no fucking clue,” I lie. “Why didn’t you tell me you invited her to dinner?” Not that I mind spending time with Addy; I just don’t want her to feel like I’ve ambushed her either, which is fucking crazy—I plan to ambush her every other chance I get. But I want to crumble her defenses, not her trust. Probably not the smartest move to just barge into her apartment then, asshole.
“I honestly didn’t know until I texted you. Livvy apparently invited her last night.”
Ah yes, during the infamous fact-finding mission Addy went on to see if I was telling her the truth about the lease. That accusation, while it hit too close to home, still stung sharply.
“I take it you came together?” he asks. I nod and Gray grins. I may have overstated the truth that I was “instructed” to bring her. I desperately needed the feel of her body pressed against mine again, even if it was under false pretenses. “I bet that was a…challenge.”
“You could say that.” I chuckle, throwing back another swallow. “Everything with that woman is a challenge.”
“I seem to remember you love a challenge, Luke.”
I tip my beer in his direction. “Nothing revs my engine hotter than a good one.” And if Addy has any sense about her, she’ll have figured that out by now. The harder she pushes, the harder she makes me. The more she denies what’s between us, the more I want her, until it’s all I can think about. I’ve never shied away from a challenge in my life and I’m not about to start now. Especially when there’s nothing I’ve wanted more. She’s wholly consumed me.
“Hey, beer me, Gray,” Asher greets as he walks into the kitchen, Alyse’s hand firmly in his. Turn
ing to his fiancée, he lowers his voice. “What do you want, baby?”
“I’ll have the same thing.”
Gray digs in the fridge then hands her a Molson and Asher a Heineken.
“Conn coming?” Asher asks, taking a swig.
“Nah. He’s out of town. Checking into that executive recruiting firm he’s looking to acquire. He said he’d swing by if he doesn’t get home too late,” Gray replies. He snakes an arm around Livia’s waist, pulls her close, and places a lingering kiss on her temple. I watch, happy that not an ounce of envy has reared her ugly head. It feels nice. Real nice.
“Where’s Addy?” Alyse pipes in.
“I’m right here,” she calls from behind me. She’s been gone for several minutes and I was about thirty seconds away from barging in on her, invited or not.
“Great, now I can show you the nursery,” Livia tells her excitedly, clapping her hands in glee.
“Beer?”
Livia hands her one and I don’t miss the fact that she won’t look at me. In fact, she’s taken position as far across the spacious kitchen as possible from where I stand. I want to stalk over there and haul her to me, kissing her senseless, staking my claim. I want to make it crystal clear to her that she’s mine. I want to take her back to the bathroom and fuck her into admitting she wants this—us—as much as I do.
But I don’t.
I just watch as the women leave in the direction of the bedrooms, presumably to get a tour of cribs and changing tables and diaper bins. How the fuck I even know that boggles the mind. Gray is definitely rubbing off on me.
And I’m not hating it. That’s the scary part.
“You have it baaaad,” Asher chuckles as soon as the women are out of earshot.
“I have no idea what the fuck you are talking about, Ash.”
When in doubt…deny, deny, deny.
“Really? Then you’d better relay that message to your dick, brother.”
I adjust myself. I’m hard as a rock after watching Addy sashay away in those tight-ass jeans that showcase her every curve to perfection. I swear she moves like that on purpose. “Fuck you.”
“I don’t think it’s me you want to fuck,” Ash quips.
“It’s you I’m going to be fucking up if you say another word like that about Addy.”
Asher leans against the counter, smug and happy as shit with himself that he’s goaded me into reacting. That’s more of a Conn move than an Asher one. Guess he’s filling in for our absent sibling tonight.
“Shit.” I scrub my hand over my stubble, wondering what I think I’m doing pining away for a woman like Addy anyway.
“Don’t fuck this up,” Gray says, nodding in the direction the women went.
“There’s nothing to fuck up, Gray.” Deny, deny, deny.
“Oh yeah. There definitely is.”
Before I can answer, I hear the cackle of the girls right before they walk back through the living room in our direction.
“Okay, let’s eat!” Livia announces. Gray jumps like he’s just been tazed, pulling something from the oven. Livia’s shooing us into the dining room, where the table is dressed impeccably and everyone starts taking their seats. Well, by everyone, I mean Asher and Alyse. Addy is apparently waiting to see where I’m going to sit before she chooses. No doubt she plans on sitting as far away from me as possible.
And I decide I’ll let her. I pull out a chair on one of the ends and take a seat, giving her an out. Everything I do is strategic. I’ve chosen this particular spot because I can easily see everyone else at the table at all times, which means that Addy has chosen unwisely. Now, I’ll be watching her every move throughout the meal. She would have been better off sitting beside me.
“Wow, Livia, this smells great,” I compliment, taking a giant inhale of the fragrant vegetable lasagna she’s set on the table.
“Thanks, Luke. It’s probably not as good as yours, but…”
My gaze strays to Addy, who is watching me intently, confusion wrinkling her forehead. Yeah, sweetheart…I have many hidden talents. All of which I’ll be showing you very soon.
The moment our gazes connect, though, her eyes shift away and I’m left feeling strangely bereft. Another emotion that’s confusing as hell.
“Nah. I’m sure it’s great. I don’t cook much anymore.”
I gave up cooking the last couple of years. Not a lot of fun when you’re just cooking for one. When I look back on my childhood, my mother teaching us to cook is one of my fondest memories. It was a bonding experience every family should try.
Food is passed, silverware clatters, and everyone digs in. For the first five minutes of the meal, I hardly take my eyes off Addy, trying to catch her gaze again. It’s fruitless. She’s intent on ignoring me.
The minute I focus on my plate, however, I feel her weighty stare exactly the way I did ten years ago when she didn’t think I knew she watched me from the stairs of her father’s house. I haven’t lived this long in the life I did by not honing my sixth sense and it was pretty fucking sharp even back then.
I don’t react. I don’t lift my eyes. I don’t curl my lips in a knowing smile.
I savor it. I bathe in it. I suck it in. I relish in the fact she’s as drawn to me as I am to her, even though she’ll die before she admits it to me or anyone else.
All during and after dinner, the conversation is light, jovial. The guys talk about sports. The girls chatter about babies and weddings. It’s nice to be with my brothers again. I’ve missed them more than I realized. More than I would previously admit.
I sip my second beer, conscious of the fact I have to drive us home. I rarely let go and let myself get rip-roaring drunk, the slip with Bigs a couple of weeks ago being an exception. Control and all that…I hate it slipping.
Sitting back, I look around at my family. The “couples” at the table sit next to each other, forcing Addy to take the other end. I notice Asher lean over to place a heated kiss on Alyse’s lips and I can’t help the unwelcome twinge of jealousy that flash fires through my blood.
I wish like hell that Addy and I could be here as a couple instead of practically archenemies. But I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing relationship wise. My brothers are tender where I’m hard. Refined where I’m rough. Boardwise to my streetwise. Would Addy even want the likes of me for more than just a roll in the sack?
I do, but somehow I know I’m going to fuck things up epically. I’m going to end up hurting her and I’ll just as soon cut off my own dick before I do that. I wish I could be the man she needs, but I stopped wishing a long time ago. Put wishes in one hand and shit in the other and see which weighs more. Shit always wins.
Suddenly the hypocrisy of what I’m doing hits me like a Mack fucking truck. I have no idea why I’m trying to pull her into my world. My depravity. My tainted past may be behind me, but that doesn’t make the things I’ve done any less real. Any less wrong.
If pure, innocent Addy ever finds out some of the downright heinous things I’ve done, she’ll go running for the hills, and I’ll help her. Hell…I’ll personally drive her there.
I need to leave Addy Monroe the hell alone. She’s far too good for me. For the second time in my life, I need to be a better man and do the right thing.
Problem is, the right thing is often the hardest of all.
Chapter 11
Cooper: Looking forward to tonight.
For the tenth time, I look at Cooper’s text and think about cancelling. It’s not fair for me to lead him on when my head is like the jumble of the day. But it’s now an hour away from our first date, and I’d feel bad bailing. Besides, I already told him I was looking forward to it, too. I’d better get my head in the game and start acting like it.
Luke and I stayed at Livia’s last Friday night until nearly midnight. I effectively managed to limit my interaction with him both there and when we returned home, and for the better part of the week, actually.
I admit I put my plan to stay away from Luke Colloway
into full-blown action, keeping myself busy for the last eight days. I’ve closed almost every night. It actually worked out well, since Carla is just now getting over that bug and she’s usually my closer. Luke doesn’t seem to be around a lot anyway, keeping odd hours just like I do. I’m not sure if he’s truly busy or trying to avoid me, too. The thought of the latter distresses me for some dumb reason.
As much as I’ve tried to forget it, dinner at Livia’s last week has been on my mind constantly. The ride, the kiss, the confusing and intense exchange in her kitchen. The fact that Luke looked to me when declining another beer because he was driving. Why do his responsibility and concern endear me to him even more? Why should I like the fact that he considered me before responding? Ugh…why am I reading into things that aren’t even there?
I learned a lot of things about Luke that night, paying more attention to the conversation the guys were having versus the one I was supposed to be engrossed in with Livia and Alyse about Alyse’s upcoming wedding.
He can cook. Quite well, so I hear, although he doesn’t do it much anymore. He’s a huge Detroit Lions and Michigan Wolverines fan. He’s allergic to shellfish. He’s never been out of the country, so Asher and Alyse’s wedding, which is in Turks and Caicos, will be his first time. That also means he doesn’t have a felony record since felons can’t get passports. Even if he did, I wouldn’t really care. I know all too well how good souls can make poor decisions, just as I know they can be redeemed. My brother is a prime example.
Taking a sip of my fortification (aka Cabernet), I sigh and get back to my primping. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I feel if I need fortification for a date, I should be calling it off. Just this one date, I tell myself. Then I’ll tell Cooper I don’t have time for dating right now, which isn’t really untrue. I’m too busy bobbing and weaving, avoiding another sinful man.
Which is exactly why you should give Cooper a chance.
I’m just finishing applying a second coat of mascara to my smoky eyes when my cell rings. I’m surprised to see it’s my niece.