Lucky 13 (Deadlines & Diamonds)

by Kearns, Morgan

  ***

  The porch light stood out in the darkness like a lighthouse in a storm. However, this light beckoned, instead of warned.

  Shayne turned off her car and looked around at the manicured yard and enormous brick house. The very dark brick house. She guessed she should have expected that. Over two hours. She’d made him wait for over two hours.

  Oh hell, who was she kidding? She’d made him wait a helluva lot longer than that. And it was about damn time to put them both out of their misery.

  Cool air whirled around her. She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting to keep some warmth. She walked quickly up the concrete sidewalk.

  Her hands shook when she pulled up the welcome mat. Under it, just as expected, she found a single silver key. She picked it up and crushed it in her hand, the points dug into her palm. She felt like she’d found something to truly treasure.

  Her heart raced. Her lungs sawed out her breaths. She slid the key into the lock and twisted. Grabbing hold of the handle, her thumb pressed down to release the latch. She pushed and stood on the threshold of Ricky’s home.

  She’d only been inside a handful of times and usually entered via the garage. Coming in the front door made her feel more like a guest than a lover. She stepped in and closed the door, relocking it. The formal living room, with its mile-high ceilings, wall of windows, and flowery sofa, didn’t fit the laid back man she knew. The flowers… Yeah, that so didn’t work with his macho.

  Working her way into the house, the naked Christmas tree stopped her dead. As tears pricked her eyes, she realized just how despondent she was.

  Off the family room was the hall that led to one bedroom. The master bedroom. Ricky’s bedroom. She inhaled deeply and put one hesitant foot in front of the other.

  She pushed his door and lost all her breath. Moonlight came through a high arched window, illuminating the room. Half-burned, long since blown-out candles covered every surface in the room. The gigantic king bed took up most of one wall. Atop it was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen.

  Among the white sheets and pillows, barely covered by a down comforter, Ricky lay on his stomach. His tanned skin a stark contrast to all the pale. She couldn’t see his face and crossed the room to stand at the end of the bed. Even in sleep, strength radiated from his body.

  She loved this man.

  Not giving herself another moment to second-guess her decisions, she went to the far side of the bed and stripped down. Goosebumps covered her skin. She shivered. He was out cold, but that didn’t smother her insecurity. She couldn’t believe she actually stood naked in a man’s bedroom, next to his bed. She rubbed at her arms and knocked a few of the pillows to the floor, sliding between the sheets.

  She snuggled in next to Ricky. He didn’t wake, but he did roll over onto his side and wrap an arm around her, tucking her into his body. He nuzzled her neck, sniffed at her hair. He mumbled something unintelligible, stretched out one of his arms, creating a pillow out of his bicep. As he began to snore softly, she drifted into the best sleep of her life.

  ***

  Ricky hadn’t slept so well in a long time. He hadn’t awakened once the entire night. Whether he’d worn himself out completely or had finally drunk himself unconscious he couldn’t be sure.

  He cracked his lids and jerked upright. He wasn’t alone in his bed. He rubbed at his eyes, blinked, rubbed again. Fear struck him like a railroad spike, all sharp and cold. This particular dream had played out before and each time as reality set in, he found himself devastated. And all alone.

  Holding his breath, he allowed his fingers to stretch over the sheets. When they made contact with soft, warm flesh, tears speared his eyes.

  Shayne was beautiful. Lying on her stomach, her bare back exposed, showing off a birthmark just above the swell of her covered backside.

  He wasn’t sure how or when, but his woman slept peacefully in his bed. His mouth felt like a cotton field. He carefully slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom. Before he woke his angel, he needed a few minutes to pull himself together.

  He almost didn’t recognize the man staring back at him from the mirror. He’d gotten so used to the pathetic and miserable, the shit-eatin’-grin threw him. He used the toilet, washed his hands, splashed water on his face and brushed his teeth.

  Feeling more like himself, Ricky went back out into his room, grateful when she still slept. He got back in bed, leaning against the pillows propped against the headboard and just watched her. Her small ribcage expanded and contracted with her steady breaths.

  Last night, as the minutes turned into hours, he’d drunk himself stupid while deciding to cut his losses, lick his wounds and prepare to move on with a life that didn’t include Shayne and Matt.

  Utterly and completely devastated.

  He’d turned off all the lights, stumbling to the bedroom. Blowing out all the candles, his dreams wafted away with the smoke. He stripped down and prayed he’d sleep forever.

  But that was last night.

  This morning, it seemed the world had righted itself and Shayne had come to him. He didn’t know what it meant, but he’d take the lifeline and hold on tight.

  He inched down to lay on his side, his head in his hand. Unable to help himself, he ran his fingers over her back, feathering them from one shoulder blade to the other. She flinched, snuffled a bit and snuggled deeper under the pillow. Goosebumps dotted her pale skin. He smiled and trickled his knuckles down her sides. She moaned, shifted. Her legs scissored under the sheets.

  He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her birthmark, trailing kisses up her spine. He knew the moment her reactions turned from instinct to impulse. She stretched, her body undulating from her toes up. He hoped like crazy she’d roll over, and yet found himself praying she wouldn’t. Seeing her breasts would eliminate any chance of coherent thought. And there was a conversation to be had. As much as he wanted to make love to her, doing so without talking first would only screw up their already messed up relationship.

  A little moan escaped her lips. She brushed the hair out of her face and turned her head to look at him. Her sleepy smile shot straight to his groin. He bit back a groan.

  “Morning.” She rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. “Sorry I was late.” The husky tone of her voice made him think of all the sexy things he wanted her to say to him. Hell, she could make the encyclopedia sexy.

  Thankfully, the head containing his brain remained in control. He laid down next to her, getting close, but keeping space between them. “What took so long?”

  “Matt.”

  Mack truck to his headlight-stunned-deer. Of course. She’d have to consider her son. He kicked himself for not thinking of him.

  She sniffed and cleared the morning out of her throat. “At first I didn’t want to leave him.” She reached out and traced a fingertip up and down his arm. “He’s the one who convinced me to come, that he’d be okay. I’m just sorry I made you wait so long.”

  He shrugged. “It was just a few hours.” The longest hours of his whole freakin’ life!

  She shook her head. An auburn curl fell across her face. She brushed it away. “No, I’m talking about the months I made you wait.” Her chocolate eyes sparkled. “I missed you like crazy!”

  “Then why?”

  She clutched the sheet and covered herself as she sat up. Ricky got upright too, leaning against the headboard. His heart jackhammered his ribcage. She tucked the sheet under her armpits, then smoothed away imaginary creases.

  “Shayne?”

  A near eternity passed in the time she stared at the sheets. Her eyes glittered when she finally looked up at him. He folded his arms to keep from comforting her. It didn’t seem like she’d gotten all gloriously naked to dump his ass, but stranger things had happened.

  “I need to tell you some things and I don’t want you to interrupt me until I’m done, okay?”

  “Okay.” His croak had nothing to do with the state of the sun in the sky.
<
br />   “I love you.”

  Well, that wasn’t so bad.

  “And I missed you like crazy. Watching you with the boys made me want to run down the bleachers, rush into your arms and never let you go.”

  He felt his brows crunch. “Then why?”

  “There are things in my past, unresolved things. I want to marry you. More than anything. But you shouldn’t have to deal with my problems.”

  “Amor, there’s nothing we can’t get through together.” He gave into the impulse and grabbed for her hand. “Do you believe that?”

  “Yes. But that doesn’t mean you should have to deal with my crap.”

  “Shayne, I love you.” He kissed her knuckles. “I want to marry you. I want to be Matt’s dad. I want to have lots and lots of bebes. Now, stop dawdling and tell me what’s so damn awful you made me miserable for so long.”

  She remained quiet for so long, Ricky doubted she’d open up to him. Just when he opened his mouth to offer her an out, she opened hers as well. “You know I lost the diner.”

  “Yes.”

  “I got behind on my taxes and was never able to catch up. They took the diner. Liquidated everything. But it wasn’t enough to pay off the debt.”

  Finally. A sliver of light shone on the situation. “How much do you owe, Shayne?”

  She didn’t meet his eyes as she whispered, “A little over seventeen thousand.”

  16

  Ricky didn’t say a word, just got out the bed. Despite the warmth of the blankets, Shayne shivered in the cold of his proverbial pink slip. Her heart relentlessly pounded against her ribs, making her chest ache.

  He crossed the room, all sexy muscle and tanned skin, until he stood in front of the dresser. The soft scrape of the drawer opening ricocheted through the quiet room like a bomb blast. Shayne jumped. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She knew she should be collecting her things, but couldn’t take her eyes off of Ricky. Being that she’d never see him again, she wanted to memorize every part of him, from his jet black hair, strong shoulders, trim waist, firm backside, muscular thighs.

  But she would miss his smile most. That smile had captured her heart on their first meeting and she would see it in her dreams for the rest of her life. Or her nightmares, rather. Because living without him would be her own personal hell. Her purgatory.

  His face held absolutely no emotion as he pulled on a pair of boxer-briefs. He reached back into the drawer then, with a black t-shirt in hand, came to stand next to the bed.

  She wiped at her eyes and tried to decipher his expression as he came to stand in front of her at the side of the bed. The dimness of early morning made that impossible, casting extra shadows. Neither of them spoke, just looked in the other’s eyes. The fierce intensity in his black stare made her want to yank the covers up over her head and wait for him to find something better to do.

  “Stand up.”

  She swallowed hard and did her best to shield her body from his view as she followed his direction. He didn’t ogle though. His eyes remained locked on hers, his jaw set.

  “Arms up.”

  Beads of sweat broke out on her skin. Instead of raising them, she wrapped her arms around her middle and narrowed her eyes at him.

  He narrowed his right back. “I said. Arms. Up.”

  Standing naked as a jaybird didn’t fortify her defenses, but somewhere she found the courage to put her hands on her hips and lean forward, bringing their bodies so close she could feel the warmth of his chest on her breasts. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  He rolled his eyes and shook his head. She dug her nails into her hips to keep from slapping him. He closed his eyes, blew out a minty breath.

  Holy crap, he was so effing perfect, he didn’t even have morning breath.

  His half-assed smile preceded his, “Will you please lift your arms?”

  She did and he slid the t-shirt over her head. The cotton was so soft, she wanted to move just to feel it caress her skin. It fit like a dress, falling to mid-thigh. And that it smelled like Ricky made her want to smother herself with it.

  “Come on.” He grabbed hold of her hand and none-too-carefully tugged her out of the room. She stumbled a bit. Ricky slowed and tightened his hold. “Sorry. You okay?”

  “Yeah. Where we goin’?”

  He didn’t answer, simply led her through the family room and down the hallway that bisected the front of the house from the back. She’d never been in this part of the house. All the way at the end, two glass French doors awaited them.

  Ricky pushed the doors of the office open and led her inside. With purpose, he strode over to sit in the brown leather chair behind the giant oak desk and jiggled the mouse to awaken the PC. His fingers clicked over the keyboard. He pointed and clicked with the mouse. After a miniscule nod, he reached for her, tugging her downward. “Come here, amor.”

  Absolutely no grace accompanied her descent. She sprawled onto his lap. He groaned when she made contact with his groin. She wriggled to get comfortable and he hissed. “Sorry. I’m…sorry.” She started to stand and his hand clamped down on her waist.

  “You’re fine.” He kissed the back of her neck. “Just stop moving. And we’ll both be fine.”

  Although her heart still hammered with all the force of a lumberjack, she did her best to relax, letting her body soak up the feel of him under her.

  He moved the mouse again and typed a username and password into the bank’s website. She turned her head, tucking it into his shoulder. “I don’t wanna know—”

  He pinched her on the upper arm. “Shut up and look.”

  She opened her mouth to blast him with what he could do with his bossy attitude. He stopped her with his lips. Her anger became liquid and oozed out her toes to puddle on the floor. When his tongue swept along her bottom lip, she dug her fingers into his hair and returned his kiss. She’d missed his taste, his strength. Him.

  Much too soon, he eased back and rested his forehead against hers. “No more gripes.”

  Her lips parted.

  He shook his head. “No. Look.” His eyes sought the computer screen. Hers followed.

  She nearly choked. She blinked, looked at him, blinked again. “That’s a lot of zeroes.”

  He pointed to the screen to the largest of the three numbers. “This is my savings. I don’t touch it. It’s for a rainy day.”

  Numbness started in her toes and crept up her body. She stood, rounded the desk to pace in front of it. She’d never seen that kind of money, never actually known anyone with that kind of green sitting in a bank. Or anywhere else for that matter.

  His chair squeaked as he stood. His bare feet made no sound as he crossed the room to stop her mid circuit. “Shayne. Your problem is nothing but a drop in the bucket—”

  That stung!

  She wasn’t sure what her face looked like, but could guess since he stopped talking. He scrubbed his face with his hand.

  “That didn’t come out right.”

  “No shit.”

  His breath hit her face in a rush. “You’re going to marry me, yes?”

  Her eyes flicked up to his. “You still want—”

  “More than anything,” he quoted her from earlier. “And you’re going to marry me, yes?”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t sure where this conversation was headed, but she could guess and had pretty much determined she wasn’t going to like it.

  “I don’t believe in prenups. I don’t plan on ever getting a divorce.” He enclosed her in a hug. “So what’s mine is yours and vice versa. The good…and the bad.”

  Her eyes prickled with emotion. “I got a lot of bad, Ricky.”

  “Bullshit.” He jerked his head in the direction of the desk. “You saw those numbers, Shayne. I’m not frontin’ just to get you to marry me. Those are honest-to-God real figures. Let me take care of you.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, mujer bonita. I love you. You love me. We’re getting married. And I’m going to
pay off your debts.”

  “I’ll pay you back.”

  “Only in sexual favors.” He raised a brow, the corner of his mouth quirking.

  She wanted to laugh, but somehow managed to scowl. “You’re going to turn me into your whore?”

  All amusement vanished faster than a flash of lightning. His glower crackled so violently, even Chuck Norris would have ducked for cover. “Don’t you ever refer to yourself as something so vile. Ever.” He ground his molars, his eyes turning to ice. “Ever. Do you understand me? Nobody talks about my wife like that. Nobody.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Got it?”

  She nodded.

  “Now that that’s all been decided—” He gathered her in a hug, crushing her to his body. “—we’ve got some celebrating to do.”

  His hands smoothed down her back, cupping her backside to his growing need. He dipped his head and captured her mouth with his, swiping at her lips with his tongue. She opened to him and he growled as he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist. The heat of him seared her, turning her insides to molten lava. She loved him. Her fiancé.

  Not breaking their lip-lock, Ricky stumbled back to the bedroom, only tripping once. He dumped her on the bed. She bounced. The look in his eyes reminded her of an African cat and she suddenly knew how an antelope felt just before it was about to be devoured. Unlike the hooved animal of the Sahara, Shayne had a feeling she was going to enjoy being eaten alive.

  Ricky licked his lips, tucked his thumbs into his waistband and, just like that, the cotton hit the floor. He grinned when she gasped. He advanced, all sure-footed and confident. She watched him, looked her fill. Once at the edge of the bed, he stalked her, crawled over her and began his assault.

  One kiss at a time he undid her.

  He slipped the shirt over her head. His eyes roamed over her. She bunched her hands into fists to keep from hiding her body from him. She’d have preferred their first time to have been in the dark, or maybe by candlelight, yet here they were, with bright morning sunlight streaming through the window, lighting her every insecurity, every vulnerability like The Strip on New Year’s Eve. She really didn’t need to see the disgust plain-as-day on his face.