by J. H. Croix
I blushed every time I even looked at him. I was that socially awkward, and I knew he wouldn’t pay attention to me. My nickname was Shorty, and I was the butt of plenty of jokes. I supposed I was passably pretty, but it seemed near impossible to be objective about myself in hindsight when it came to adolescence. All I knew was it was a socially lonely time and emotionally stressful.
Then, my crush asked me to the school dance.
There I was, little Lucy Caldwell, and the cutest boy in the school asked me to the dance. I was nervous, but beside myself and stupidly excited. Those few days of bubbly joy and I-can’t-quite-believe-this-is-happening looked so ridiculous after the fact. Floyd was tall and strong and had girls swooning over him in the halls all the time. As word spread like wildfire through the halls of our high school that he’d finally graced one lucky girl an invitation to the dance, I got plenty of dirty looks from other girls. I didn’t really have any friends, so it didn’t sting as much as it might’ve. I ignored them.
I was floating on that silly, heady joy that only a girl who desperately wanted to fit in could feel when she thought maybe, just maybe, she might be.
The evening of the dance arrived, and even though I had worried Floyd wouldn’t actually show up, he did. He even came to the door with flowers. He was quite charming with his slicked back brown hair and flashing dark eyes. He gave the flowers to my mother, earning him a glare from my father. In hindsight, I don’t think my father knew how to interact with him. My father almost refused to let me go to the dance.
For once, my mother stood up for me. She begged him to let me have that one small thing. So I went. I couldn’t say it was wonderful. I was too nervous for it to be anything really.
For the dance itself, Floyd tugged me around on his arm. I was more like a piece of his clothing than a person. He socialized, he laughed, he let other girls fawn over him, but he was gracious and polite. After the dance, he took me to a park where I’d never been and kissed me. My memories were messy and blurry. I was too overwhelmed with nervous anxiety to really feel much. I had no experience to judge his kissing. I was definitely an entirely inexperienced kisser, and I didn’t want to lead on that was my first kiss, my first anything. Kissing moved to heavy petting to him tugging my dress up. None of this was bad. Oh, it was awkward, and he was a little rougher than I would’ve liked, but it was just that he lacked finesse. It simply was what it was. I’d sadly assumed a part of my mother’s way of dealing with men, which was to acquiesce.
I lost my virginity in the back of a fucking car on the night of my first and only school dance. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t fun, or intimate, or anything like that. It hurt, and I felt like an idiot, mostly because I didn’t know what to do. Floyd was, well, he just was who he was. He seemed rather happy with himself after the fact. He kissed me on the cheek at the door, and I went to bed, barely sleeping.
The next day came, and I walked into school to find SLUT scrawled on my locker. Somehow between the night before and that morning, Floyd bragged that he took my virginity. The rumor, like so many others, spread far and wide through the halls of the high school. To this day, I didn’t know if Floyd knew his bragging would result in my social shame, but it didn’t really matter. I never spoke to him again.
Maybe I was a challenge to him. I learned after the fact that there’d been bets about whether I would go to the prom with anyone and whether I was a virgin or not. My social shyness bit me hard. Even worse, somehow my father found out. All the way up until sixteen, he never laid a hand on me physically. I walked home that day, and he blacked both of my eyes right in front of my mother, declaring that I had turned into the whore she’d been. He shouted he only hoped I didn’t get pregnant because that was how she’d trapped him.
While those two black eyes had been awful, they sent my life careening down a different path. Despite my not-so-stellar home life, I was an excellent student and I never missed school. When I had my very first absence from high school, my guidance counselor sent the school resource officer to check on me. My father never bothered to think he needed to stay home, so he’d gone to work. So had my mother. The school resource officer called child welfare after I answered the door, and he saw my black eyes.
My mother was given a choice—me, or my father. They weren’t going to let me remain in his care, so she had to decide. She chose him. I got shipped off to foster care for a year before she found the strength to choose me later.
Chapter Eight
Lucy
The following day, I leaned against a sawhorse at our current project with a sigh. A raven called from the trees nearby. I watched as it took flight from a cluster of cottonwood, a dark shadow against the bright blue sky. I loved all of the seasons in Alaska, but I was particularly fond of late summer. A soft breeze blew across the lot where we were building. The property was nestled amongst rolling hills on the outskirts of Willow Brook. Denali was peeking above the trees in the distance. I stared into the field off to the side where fireweed was blooming. The common weed bloomed in waves of bright fuchsia flowers across Alaska in late summer, splashes of color in the already stunning landscape.
I turned to reach for my water bottle, reflexively with my right hand. When my brace bumped the bottle, I glanced down and glared at it.
“Angry at your arm?” Amelia asked as she approached from our work truck.
Her amber hair was falling down from a ponytail as she dragged her sleeve across her face. I rolled my eyes as I switched hands and snagged my water bottle. Amelia leaned against the sawhorse beside me, throwing a grin my way.
“I’m angry at my brace. It’s annoying,” I said.
“When do you get it looked at again?”
“Next week. There’s no pain. I don’t see why I can’t just take it off.”
She threw a glare in my direction. “Don’t be stupid.”
“It’s just a bone bruise,” I countered.
“Yeah, but you want it to heal right, so take care of it.”
Amelia took a long swallow from her water bottle before looking my way again.
“Any luck finding a place?” she asked, shifting the topic.
She couldn’t have known she selected the only other topic that was more annoying than my mildly injured arm. I’d had another dream about Levi last night. I could hardly be around him without getting hot and bothered. I felt betwixt and between. He wasn’t crowding me and gave me my privacy. It wasn’t him. It was me. That’s what made me so nuts in my head.
I didn’t know what to do with how much I wanted him. I’d woken up so hot last night, I’d been forced to take matters into my own hands. Yet again. I was starting to feel as if he owned my body. He certainly owned my dreams.
I feigned a casual tone. “No luck,” I replied with a shake of my head.
“It’s a tough time of year.”
“Is there ever a good time of year around here to find a place to rent?”
Amelia threw a wry grin my way. “Not really. Not unless you’re buying. It’s either short term winter rentals when they open up, or waiting until something better comes along. Have you thought about buying?”
“It’s on my list. Maybe in another year or so, I’ll have enough saved up for a down payment.”
“Well, I’m glad you can crash at Levi’s since our place isn’t an option right now. Seems like you two have been getting along okay.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Why do you say that?” My tone sounded more annoyed than I intended.
She flashed a grin. “Because you haven’t been bitching about him.”
“Well, he hasn’t been flirting,” I said grumpily.
I didn’t say aloud that fact was actually bothering me a little bit. I couldn’t fucking believe I missed Levi flirting with me. He was being scrupulously gracious, and it was driving me insane. His lack of flirting was making me want him to the point I was actually considering just tackling him. Perhaps if I could get this crazy need for him out of my system, it would
go away.
My sanity was definitely in question. This was absolutely the craziest idea I’d ever considered, but I was nearly on fire all the time around him. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to banish him from my thoughts. In fact, the harder I tried not to think about him and not to want him, the more I thought about him and the more I wanted him.
Amelia’s chuckle distracted me, and I realized I’d completely lost track of our conversation. Conveniently, it was easy to recall what she’d last said because it was about Levi.
“You were so cranky with him, I think he gave up on flirting,” she offered.
I masked my inner turmoil with a long gulp of water before replying. “Took him long enough.”
Her phone rang, and she tugged it out of her jeans, effectively ending our conversation. She stepped away to take the call, while I spun around and started stacking the hardwood flooring I’d been cutting all afternoon. I’d returned to that project today, and we were close to having enough for the house. I stacked it on a wheeled cart and left it in our covered storage. We finished up for the day with Amelia heading off to have dinner with Cade and his parents.
As I drove back towards town, I contemplated whether to stop and grab something to eat. Willow Brook had done wonders for me when it came to my social life. I’d been able to start over here for my last year of high school. Maybe I didn’t have a ton of friends, but no one here knew anything about the slut shaming I’d suffered through at my last high school even though I was far from a slut. I’d made a few friends in Willow Brook, and when I started working with Amelia after college, she became my best friend. Her small circle easily enveloped me. I still wasn’t much for doing things out and about on my own. I would occasionally grab coffee at the Firehouse Café. We had girls’ night card game every few weeks, and sometimes I went to Wildlands, a local favorite bar and lodge, when friends were going.
It was Friday evening, and none of those things were happening. Usually this wouldn’t matter at all. Except that meant going out to Levi’s and worrying about whether or not I was going to see him. Part of me was nearly desperate to see him. Another part of me was annoyed and angry about my desperation and my body’s betrayal. My stubborn side didn’t want to dare let his presence dictate what I did.
Tonight, my stubborn side and my desperately wanting to see him side won this battle. I drove out to his house bound and determined to act like I didn’t give a damn. When I pulled up and saw his truck wasn’t there, I breathed a sigh of relief. And promptly wondered what the hell he was doing. That’s how ridiculous I was over him.
I knew he wasn’t seeing anyone right now because I’d made a sarcastic comment about women drooling over him the other night. He’d taken affront and made a point to say he wasn’t seeing anyone right now.
Grumbling to myself, I let myself in the house as Levi had assured me it was fine to do. He’d also made a point to let me know he’d do the same for any friend if they needed a place to stay. I still hated needing help and occasionally considered calling my mother. That was a quick no every time it crossed my mind.
Working in construction, even light duty work with my brace, left me plenty dusty, so I headed directly upstairs for a shower. I was relieved my brace was easy to remove for showers. Even though I was bitching about having to wear it, I wasn’t stupid, so I immediately put it back on after I dried off. As soon as I stepped out of the shower, I knew Levi was home because I could hear the shower running downstairs. Simply knowing he was near caused my body to tighten in anticipation. Dressed in loose sweatpants, fluffy socks and a sweatshirt, I considered hiding in my room. Yet, that was silly, and I felt like a coward for even considering it.
I stomped down the stairs into the kitchen. Over his objections, I’d stocked up on groceries the other day. He insisted it wasn’t necessary, but I didn’t really care. I had to do something in exchange for having a place to stay. As I stared into the cabinets, I heard the water turn off in the downstairs bathroom. I settled on heating up a can of soup. I wasn’t the best cook by any stretch. While I was hunting for the right size pot, the bathroom door opened.
At the sound of his footsteps, I reflexively looked over my shoulder. It felt strangely intimate to know he’d been naked in the shower with nothing but a thin door between us. My body had all kinds of feelings about that.
The moment my gaze landed on him, it was like a flash fire in my body. His mere presence was a match to the banked coals inside of me. He was bare chested with nothing but a pair of jeans on. Of course, they hugged his body like a lover, caressing every inch of his muscled thighs. I swallowed, my face flaming hot. My eyes, my willful, naughty eyes, lingered on the hard, sculpted planes of his chest. His chest was lightly dusted with caramel colored hair, barely visible over his amber skin. My hands itched to touch him.
I managed to drag my eyes up to his face, only to see his gaze darken when mine collided with his. I took a ragged breath and willed my pulse under control. It wasn’t listening. At all. Butterflies spun in my belly and heat spread through my veins. My channel was slick and wet instantly. This was how ridiculous I was around him.
I managed another breath and swallowed. “Hi,” I choked out.
Fuck. My voice was all breathy. Inside, it felt as if I was swimming against a tidal wave of need. My willful desire had embedded itself into my thoughts day and night. It was incessant and making me think crazy thoughts. For example, I was seriously considering just tackling him.
My need for him was a force I’d never faced. I’d never even been tempted like this. Outside of my father who I hated, I’d never had this much consistent proximity to any man. Beyond my first not-so-great sexual experience, I hadn’t had many other experiences. I’d tried dating a few times in college, but found it was easier to keep things brief and physical. Marginally satisfying one-night stands let me keep the emotional boundaries clear. At twenty-eight now, I had to think—hard—about the last time I’d kissed anyone. It was beyond embarrassing.
Aside from the darkening of his eyes, Levi gave nothing away. He stepped into the kitchen, walking with that easy swagger of his. It wasn’t conscious, no matter how much I wanted to tell myself it was. He was all man, a man on octane fuel with a body made of pure muscle. Not because he worked out for vanity. As a hotshot firefighter, he was the toughest of the tough. His work demanded the innate strength and confidence he carried. Hell, he had it in spades. My eyes greedily absorbed the sight of him as he moved closer.
He leaned his hip on the counter, apparently not even intending to put a shirt on.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked, curling one hand over the edge of the counter.
“Soup,” I said, holding up a can of tomato soup.
His eyes flicked to the can and back to me, widening slightly. “Soup?” he repeated.
My head bobbed in a wobbly nod because my body was humming, and I could hardly think. “Uh huh.”
I prayed he couldn’t tell my cheeks were flaming hot. I was fairly certain he could because my complexion didn’t hide blushes very well. I didn’t think this qualified as a blush. More like I was on fire inside and out and about to melt at his feet.
“How about I cook dinner?” he asked.
“Huh?” was my brilliant response.
“How about I cook dinner? Doesn’t really seem like you cook.”
Hints of a grin appeared at the corners of his mouth.
I stared at him, uncertain how to respond. This was the first night where I had nothing to do and nothing to eat when he was also here.
“You cook?”
His mouth stretched into a slow grin. My low belly clenched, need coiling tightly in a knot at the apex of my thighs. Sweet hell. His grins were dangerous. I was practically drooling. Meanwhile, he stood there, entirely oblivious to my internal state.
“Yeah, I cook. I love to cook actually. I’m pretty damn good at it.”
I laughed because I was so startled I didn’t know what else to do.
/>
“Is there something wrong with a man who cooks?” he countered, still grinning.
I shook my head quickly. “No, not at all.”
“Do you mind if I cook then?”
“Of course not. Cook whatever you want for yourself.”
His eyes narrowed, and his grin faded. “I’ll cook something for both of us,” he clarified.
“Oh no. You don’t need to do that. I’ll just have soup.”
I was starting to feel frantic inside. Overwhelmed with burning desire for him, muddled, out of my element and just all a mess inside, I didn’t know how to comprehend any of this.
Levi reached out and took the can of soup from my hand, his fingers brushing against mine and sending a hot jolt of electricity through my body. My breath caught and my pulse took off like a rocket. Mind you, it wasn’t like it was calm to begin with, but now it had gone completely crazy. I felt insane. Before I could form another word—because speaking wasn’t really my forte, especially not right now—he returned the soup to the cabinet.
While I was busy trying not to melt on the spot, he got busy pulling things out of the refrigerator. He said a few things, none of which I heard.
“Lucy?”
Even his voice was sexy, like honeyed whiskey. It sent a shiver over my skin.
“Huh?”
My vocabulary had degenerated to this.
He grinned, sending my belly into another flip and heat spinning through my veins. “I’ll have this ready inside of a half hour. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Wow. I’d graduated to two syllables. Still grinning, he spun around and got to work. Uncertain what to do with myself, I slipped into a chair at the kitchen table. I was hot all over and my panties were wet. Apparently, he was going to cook shirtless.
If I got through this night without mauling him, it would be a miracle.
Chapter Nine
Levi