His Brown-Eyed Girl (A New Orleans Ladies Novel Book 2)

by Liz Talley

“Who is? Taking care of kids is like herding cats—you come away with a few scratches and hair on your clothes. Still, they can be cute.”

  Lucas snorted, taking a few steps down the front stairs.

  Addy didn’t back away because she wanted him to know she wasn’t scared of him. He wore a blue work shirt that stretched across his broad chest, the sleeves rolled up. His biceps protested the crinkled fabric and his forearms were sprinkled with burnished hair. One pearlized button in the middle of his shirt was chipped, and she longed to touch it if only so she could step closer to him and learn his smell.

  Which was an odd inclination.

  She’d never been attracted to someone like Lucas before… someone so raw and masculine, someone who reminded her of the Marlboro Man.

  Stopping in front of her, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The move was both tender and intimate. She lifted her gaze to his, and within those soft eyes was a momentary flicker of something that made her stomach flip over.

  “Such a rare beauty, Addy Toussant.”

  Addy had been called beautiful before, but not in the last few years. Something warm swirled within her, making her soften, making her wonder how his hands might feel on her bare skin.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as his hand lingered at her jaw.

  A tugging on her skirt jarred her from the wonderfulness of the moment.

  A pair of blue eyes attached to a wriggling child with a hand thrust between her legs peered up at her. “I gotta go tee-tee bad.”

  Lucas dropped his hand and lifted those chocolate eyes heavenward. “Dear God, grant me the serenity to-”

  “-take Charlotte to the bathroom?” Addy finished for him with a laugh. She longed to step back into that sensual moment with Lucas but was relieved she didn’t have to. Something about the intense emotion she felt alarmed her. “I can take her.”

  “Great. If you’ll do that, I’ll round Chris and Michael up and get started.”

  “Just be consistent and fair with both those boys. It’s the only way,” she said, jogging up the front porch steps, tugging Charlotte with her.

  “And you know this how?”

  Addy stopped and made a face. “Well, I don’t really. I just hear my sisters say it. Could be totally wrong.”

  Lucas gave her a smile and then headed toward her driveway.

  “Hey, Addy. You wike my Uncle Wucas?”

  “He’s all right.”

  Charlotte twitched, dancing the I-gotta-go ballet on the end of Addy’s arm. “He’s scawey.”

  “No, he’s not. He’s a man just like your daddy.”

  “Michael says he’s a giant like in my book.”

  “You don’t believe everything Michael says do you?” Addy pushed open the front door and entered the family room. It was a mess with socks on the floor, toss pillows off the couch, and the television projecting cartoons to an empty room.

  “Him’s the oldest,” Charlotte said with conviction, tugging Addy toward an open door in the hallway. “Michael says he knows why Uncle Wucas hates us… because mommy was his first.”

  Mommy was his first… what?

  Did Courtney and Lucas have a past? That could explain why she’d never seen the man around the Finlay house. Sounded a bit soap opera-ish, but wasn’t reality stranger than fiction?

  “Your uncle doesn’t hate you, Charlotte,” Addy said, helping the little girl slide down the elastic-waist jeans and slide onto the potty. “He just isn’t used to children.”

  Charlotte looked up at her. “Then why did my mommy leave us with him?”

  That was a good question… one Addy didn’t have an answer to.

  The early March sun roasted Lucas’s shoulders, causing sweat to sluice down his back. He shrugged out of the long-sleeved work shirt he’d donned that morning, electing to work in the thin undershirt. He’d found a table saw in Ben’s workshop and created a temporary workstation to cut the boards and hand off to a sullen Michael. Chris and Charlotte helped Addy and Aunt Flora replant the orchids in the new pots Addy had brought home. The three-year-old seemed to be wearing more soil than was in the pots and seemed happy digging around in the yard and checking on her worm farm.

  “I think this ought to do it,” he said to Michael, handing off the last board. “I bought some premade shelving we’ll put together after we get these boards in place. The instructions are in the box if you want to get started.”

  “I don’t. I need to shower. I’m going over to Jase’s house.” Michael set the board on his shoulder and walked back to the greenhouse, setting it carefully against the small Japanese maple sitting in the shade of the large house.

  “Who’s Jase? And how come I don’t know anything about this?”

  “It’s his birthday. Mom should have told you I had this planned,” Michael said, squaring his shoulders, ready to fight Lucas on the point.

  “Fine. I’ll drop you so I can talk to his parents.”

  Michael made a face. “Whatever.”

  “That’s your favorite word, huh?” Lucas said, pointing toward the box. “If you’ll open that and lay out the parts according to the directions, I’ll put it together after I get back from taking you to your friend’s house.”

  The boy sighed. “Whatever.”

  “What’s eating you, Michael?”

  The boy turned, his expression fierce. “What do you think?”

  Lucas said nothing, merely studied the lanky boy with the crappy attitude. “I never sent you twenty bucks in a birthday card?”

  The boy sneered. “Yeah, because that would have made this all better. Me getting a card from you.”

  Okay, humor wasn’t going to work.

  Lucas cast a glance to where Addy lugged a bag of soil to the patio, liking the way she looked in her faded jeans. Her aunt helped Chris to gently tuck the roots of a soft pink orchid into the terra cotta pot. “You don’t understand the big picture, kid. There’s a lot of choppy water under a bridge that burned years ago. I had my reasons for staying away from New Orleans.”

  Michael set the box containing the shelves at his feet. “I’m sure those reasons are comforting to Grammy and Grampy when you’re not here at Christmas… or for anything else. I’m sure it’s totally cool to ignore the family you have.”

  A punch to the stomach would have had the same effect. Lucas tried not to react to the guilt socking him over and over again. His mother had always said she understood, she’d always said he didn’t have to come for Thanksgiving, for his father’s heart catheterization, for their fiftieth wedding anniversary. And Lucas had stayed away because of his pride… because it still hurt when he thought about his kid brother Ben, about how guilty yet convicted Courtney had been the night she’d told him she was in love with his brother. “That’s not what I was doing.”

  Michael glared at him before giving him a familiar sardonic Ben smile. “Okay. Sure.”

  Something broke in Lucas and anger flooded him. How dare this brat accuse him of being the bad guy? Did he know what his mother and father had done? Did he know the hurt that had festered there for years?

  The kid didn’t know shit about him.

  But Michael obviously didn’t care because he continued. “Chris, Lottie, and I had nothing to do with whatever happened between you and Mom and Dad. Ever think of that? We meant nothing to you back then, so why should we care about you now? We were easy to write off. I’m going to help Addy. I’ll send Chris back to help you fix his mistake.”

  Lucas’s fist curled so he gave his idle hand something to do, stooping and picking up the shelves. He didn’t know how to handle Michael. He’d given the kid a pass on his rudeness for the first couple of days because Courtney had left without telling them goodbye or diddly poop about their father, but his patience waned.

  Still, Michael wasn’t wrong. The rift between Lucas and Ben wasn’t the kids’ fault. Lucas shouldn’t have spent the past thirteen years pretending the children didn’t exist. He’d just been at a los
s for how to reach out to them when he still simmered with anger at their parents.

  Or maybe it hadn’t been anger as much as it had been wounded pride. Like a sucking wound, the injury done to him had chafed and poisoned him against children who had nothing to do with what had happened all those years ago.

  “Michael said I have to help you,” Chris said, rubbing at the smears of soil on his forehead. “What you want me to do?”

  “Just hold the boards in place while I use the drill.”

  “Can I use the drill?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Chris twisted his lips and pulled on the small gloves Lucas had bought him at the home improvement store. “That means no. Every kid knows that.”

  “Fine. I’ll show you how to use it and let you try.”

  “Really? Cause Dad never lets me around power tools and stuff.” Chris grinned and reached for the orange drill on the board balanced between two sawhorses.

  Lucas beat him to it. “Probably with good reason. First, let’s take a break, okay?”

  Lucas had caught sight of Aunt Flora emerging from the back of her house balancing a tray with lemonade and what looked to be a plate of cookies. Chris caught sight of food and all thought of drills flew out of his mind. He disappeared faster than beer at Oktoberfest.

  Lucas watched as the kids surrounded Aunt Flora. Addy unwound from her seated position and stretched. She’d changed into an old t-shirt with a Mardi Gras 10K run on the front and a pair of jeans that fit her nicely even with the hole in the knee. She pointed her worn tennis shoes toward him and he got a warm feeling that had nothing to do with the sun bearing down.

  “You’re making good progress. We’ll finish today,” she said as she wiped perspiration from her forehead. “Whew, it’s warm for a change.”

  “That’s New Orleans for you.”

  For a moment they stood watching Aunt Flora tease the children and refill their cups. He liked the way she felt beside him. Small enough to fit under his arm, but she had a presence that made her feel so solid. Maybe it was because he now knew what she’d faced, how brave she had to be every day.

  “Hey, walk with me a minute,” he said, motioning her toward the back of Ben and Courtney’s house.

  She followed. They slipped between the large camellia bushes and walked onto the covered patio scattered with toys and patio furniture that needed a good scrubbing. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve been thinking about what you told me earlier, and I want you to know you can trust me.”

  Addy made a face. “That’s what you wanted to tell me? You could have done that back there.”

  “You seem private, and those kids are nosy. Well, Chris is.”

  “He is a little nosy. When I told him I’d pay him for washing my car tomorrow, he asked how much money I had in my checking account.”

  “Dear Lord. He’s-”

  “Precocious?” she said, lifting her eyebrows in an endearing way. Heck, everything she did was endearing.

  “I was going to say cheeky.” Lucas watched the smile playing about her lips and thought about how much he wanted to taste her. He wanted to touch her smooth skin, maybe trace her bottom lip with his thumb as he cradled her head in his hands. He wanted to soak her in, feel her against him, make love in the cool grass out back in the moonlight, take away all her fears with tenderness. This woman stroked the poetry in his soul. She made him feel lighter, younger, and a little horny.

  But Addy’s admission hours ago changed things. Oh, he still wanted her, but he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Obviously, she was a woman who needed time to trust a man, and that was something he didn’t have. No need to pursue something he couldn’t finish.

  “Is that all you wanted?” she asked.

  “I needed a break.” Or just wanted you to myself.

  “You definitely need a break.” Addy’s gaze lowered to his chest. In those pretty brown eyes he thought he saw interest and it struck something in him.

  Maybe.

  No.

  Even if she were interested, it wasn’t a good idea to start anything. Even flirtation felt as if it could get out of hand quickly. Better to maintain friendship. “I’m seeing single mothers in a whole new light. How do they manage showers or going to the bathroom? Charlotte walked in on me in the shower last night. It was traumatizing.”

  Something devilish danced in Addy’s eyes. “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah, I screamed like a little girl.”

  Addy gave a snort of laughter. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”

  He moved a little closer, not able to resist a smidgeon of flirting. “Oh, what did you expect?”

  “Are you flirting?” She tilted her head, a smile hovering around her very kissable lips. “Cause that’s unexpected from a man who looks like he could tangle with the devil and come out unscathed.”

  Lucas tucked a strand of hair behind her ear much as he’d done earlier. Addy inhaled. Then the air crackled with the sort of tension that was like a lit match tossed into a pool of diesel fuel.

  You’re supposed to be her friend. Friends don’t kiss the way you want to kiss her. Stand down, man.

  “I have my moments of weakness, times where I show the gooey center beneath the… the…” He inched closer.

  “Leather?”

  “Leather?” He made a face.

  “Uh, steel?”

  “I like that. Man of steel,” he murmured, studying her pink lips. He loved her full bottom lip and the way it contrasted against the slight bow of the top one. Not balanced, but definitely delicious. Her skin glowed, not pale and pasty like so many women, but with warmth and vitality. Her warm brown eyes sparked beneath black brows that reminded him of that chick in that sappy love movie from the 70s his mom loved. Sad movie with Ryan O’ Neal. Ally somebody. Yeah, Addy looked like that actress. Serene, calm, with that same jaunty smile.

  Addy studied him, not quite alarmed he moved closer, but not necessarily welcoming. “So beneath the machismo you’re a nerdy, soft-spoken beta boy?”

  “Maybe I am. Maybe you need to find out for your-”

  “Uncle Lucas!” the voice cried from their right.

  “Of course,” he whispered at the shrieking voice of reason interrupting a weak moment, a moment he really, really wanted to have with Addy despite his admonitions to himself seconds earlier.

  Lucas stepped back and gave Addy a regretful smile. She turned and studied the flaking paint on the porch rail.

  “Hey,” Chris shouted, loping toward them with cookie crumbs stuck to his chin. “Michael pushed me down and made me break one of the pots. I didn’t do nothing but ask him about-”

  “Shut up already,” Michael said, climbing the three steps to the back porch, studying them with some extraperceptive knowledge that he’d interrupted something intense.

  “You two boys are at it again, huh?” Lucas asked.

  “He’s over dramatizing,” Michael said, moving past them. Quick as a cat, he disappeared, the click of the back door the only sound on the porch outside Chris hitting the toe of his sneakers against the back step.

  “He’s a butthead. And mean. I wish mom would come home. He’d be grounded for acting like that,” Chris said, turning his gaze upon them.

  “Won’t be too long, Chris.”

  The boy grew quiet, still for once. “Is my dad okay, Uncle Lucas? I know he got hurt in Afghanistan, but Mom won’t tell us nothing. She said he was coming home, but he didn’t.”

  Lucas didn’t want to lie, but nor did he want to let on how badly Ben fared. The actual IED explosion had happened three weeks ago and Ben had done well with the surgeries. But no one had seen the vicious infection winging in from left field. “Your mother is with your father, and that’s the most important thing.”

  Chris nodded and resumed kicking the step.

  Addy rubbed her hands on her jeans before sliding by him and starting for her own house. “I better get back. We’ll talk about the kid’s schedule
s later. I think Aunt Flora’s got something in the oven so we’ll bring dinner over tonight. And I should be able to help this upcoming week. Picking up or dropping off. Whatever you need.”

  Whatever he needed, but not what he wanted.

  But that was for the best. He had to truly believe that.

  “Charlotte has her school Spring Fling tomorrow. Someone’s gotta take her to that,” Michael said, reappearing with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a football. He tossed the ball into the air, flicking it toward his brother who snatched it out of the air with one hand. Impressive.

  “I don’t want to go to Spring Fling. It’s lame,” Chris said, tossing the ball back to Michael who missed it. It clattered onto the glass table knocking over a cup of some red juice. “Oops.”

  Lucas frowned, wondering how much more of the whining, bickering, and just plain out difficulty he could handle. A departing Addy noticed. “Hey, why not let the boys stay here with me? I have some things I need some strong men to help with. I’ll pay, too.”

  Chris’s eyes grew big. “More money than just washing the car?”

  “Sure, after you wash the car, you can help me rake out the flower beds.”

  Michael nodded. “I can do that.”

  Me too,” Chris shouted.

  “Guess you’re Charlotte’s date to the Spring Fling,” Addy said, smiling as she sauntered away like a sexy vixen. Okay, so she didn’t saunter, but she still looked sexy. Okay, not even sexy. Addy wasn’t full-blown in her appeal, but rather subtle and there was something sexy about subtleness.

  But he’d think about kissing Addy later.

  Maybe that evening over whatever Flora served for dinner.

  Or the next day.

  Or…

  Addy hurried back toward him, making a face. “Charlotte just threw up.”

  Lucas climbed out and jogged around to the passenger back door of the extended cab pickup truck. Opening the door, he found Charlotte already out of her booster. Rather than giving him a mistrustful look, she held out her arms and allowed him to lift her out and place her on the asphalt of the school’s parking lot.

  “Do you wike sno-balls, Uncle Wucas? ’Cause Sister Tewesa said they was gonna have ’em here.”