by Terri Osburn
Sid moved around for her next shot, putting herself between Lucas and the table. Chalking her stick, she shot him a look over her shoulder. “I can go that route, when I’m in the mood.”
Replacing the chalk on the side, she bent over, giving him a clear view of prime posterior real estate. His brain nearly melted. The fifteen banked off the right rail, then dropped into the far corner pocket. She was down to two balls and he’d yet to take a shot.
Though losing didn’t matter much so long as he could keep watching her. She moved with complete confidence. An air that made her seem taller. More potent. More desirable.
She must have every man on the island after her. A thought that made Lucas want to barricade the door, though he warred with the question of which side he’d be on.
She bent over again and the fourteen flew up the table, clipping the side of the pocket and remaining on the felt. “Damn it.”
He took several seconds to realize it was his turn. “About time,” Lucas said, his voice steadier than the rest of him. “Three in the side.” The ball dropped and he moved to the next one. “One in the corner.” A little bottom-right English and the ball dropped, sending the cue ball right where he’d intended. This game needed to end before he got any more ideas about his pint-sized opponent.
“I thought you’d be rusty,” Sid said, leaning on her cue, a hand on her hip. “Why didn’t you go for more money?”
“You may not think you’re a lady, but I do. I told you yesterday, a gentleman doesn’t take money from a lady.”
“At this rate, you’ll take twenty-five dollars.”
“Five-six combination.” He dropped the balls as called, but the cue got away from him. “I had to agree to something to shut you up. And you owe me for yesterday.”
“Really?” The spitting Sid returned, as he knew she would. Keeping her angry meant keeping her at a distance. “I don’t owe you shit from yesterday. I won that challenge fair and square.”
Lucas sized up his next shot. He couldn’t get the two in the corner without glancing the eight, which could send it into the side. The four wasn’t any better. He’d have to float the cue down the table, away from her remaining balls.
“You won yesterday by using what I estimate to be two D cups, which I don’t have. That qualifies as an unfair advantage.” He looked her way and let his eyes linger somewhere just below her chin. “Not that I’m complaining.”
A subtle shade of red crawled up her neck. He’d already vowed not to go there, so why was he being a jackass? To make up for the comment, he sailed the cue ball past the two, leaving her a perfect position on the eleven. “Your shot.”
With stiff movements, Sid took her place behind the cue and dropped the eleven in the side. But she’d left herself a difficult shot on the fourteen. Lucas slid up next to her and bent over to see the line. “Go high left on the cue and you can make it.”
Liquid caramel eyes locked on his, that now familiar line forming between her brows. She looked to the ball across the table, then back to Lucas. “High left?”
“High left.”
He gave her room, moving out of her peripheral vision to avoid being a distraction. She suffered no lack of determination or skill. It seemed whatever Sid Navarro attempted, she did well. His new-found admiration had more to do with the person he was coming to know than the killer body she inhabited.
The fourteen careened across the table, dropping cleanly into the pocket. Sid gave a triumphant “Yes!” then turned for a high five. He complied, but something told him to hold on. They stood there next to the pool table, hand in hand, eyes locked. Sid licked her lips and Lucas nearly gave into the urge.
Instead he dropped her hand and sauntered to the other side of the table. “It’s not over yet. You still have to make the eight ball.”
Sid continued to look dazed for several seconds. Lucas gave her time to recover, since he needed a moment himself. This was only their second day together and he was already struggling to keep his hands off her. A complication he did not need.
“Right,” she finally said, her voice low and unsure. She stared at the table while chalking her stick, presumably figuring out her shot, though Lucas saw her eyes dart in his direction more than once.
“I’d go for the side,” he said, anxious to finish the game. He didn’t give a shit about the money. He’d pay twenty-five hundred to break the spell she was weaving around him.
With a nod, Sid bent to take the shot. Lucas had replaced his cue on the wall before the ball dropped. “We need to open in five. I’ll hand over your winnings this afternoon.” Before she could respond, Lucas headed back to the bar.
CHAPTER SEVEN
What the hell had just happened? One minute they were bickering and trash talking like normal, then Lucas got all weird again. First, he’d insulted her, which would normally have pissed Sid off, but the way he’d looked at her, as if he wanted to pick her up and carry her off somewhere, screwed with her wiring and anger was trumped by lust.
Sid had wanted Lucas to notice her for years, but never believed he ever would. Maybe she’d been wrong. Just imagining the things he might be imagining sent heat to the tips of her ears. But if he was interested, why did he keep backing off?
Maybe he was just a sore loser. Except without his help, she never would have won. She’d underestimated his skill going in. If he’d gotten another turn, the game would have been over in seconds. Instead, he’d helped her win. A fact she’d never admit aloud, but true all the same.
This was why Sid didn’t spend time with a lot of people. She sucked at figuring them out. Joe was a simple guy. He didn’t say much, but when he did, the words were straightforward, easy to understand. No hidden meanings. No games.
When Lucas talked, he might as well have been speaking another language for all she understood him.
“Sid?” said Annie, dashing into the poolroom, short black hair dancing around her face.
“Yeah?”
“Lucas said to come get you. We’re opening the doors.”
Only then did Sid realize she was still holding the cue stick, standing next to the pool table like an idiot. “I’ll be right out.”
The rest of the day was a blur. Saturdays were always the busiest, especially the lunch crowd. Dempsey’s was known throughout the Outer Banks for the best fish and chips in the mid-Atlantic, but the burgers ran a close second in popularity. Both featured special recipes concocted by Patty in the early days of the restaurant.
By the end of the day, Sid wanted only two things: a cold beer and a hot bath.
“Tough day?” Beth asked, coming up beside Sid as she counted her tips at the end of the bar.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because your ponytail is falling off the back of your head, and there’s enough ketchup on your shirt to fill a couple bottles.”
Sid looked down. “Gross.” She grabbed a napkin and rubbed, but the red sauce had dried long ago. “It’s not coming off.”
Beth laughed. “Nearly every time I see you, you’re covered in either fish slime or grease. But ketchup bothers you?”
“Shut up, Curly.” Sid gave up on the condiment and yelled to Lucas, “Cash me out. I’ve got a hundred fifty in ones.”
With the ring of a bell, Lucas opened the register and exchanged the money. “There you go.” He turned to Beth. “Where’s Joe?”
“In the bathroom. He should be right out.” Tying an apron around her hips, Beth looked from Sid to Lucas, then asked, “No bets today?”
Sid had forgotten about the pool game. She considered telling Lucas to forget the twenty-five, then recalled her run-in with Old Man Fisher. Every little bit got her closer to that garage.
“Not on the tips,” Lucas said, before Sid could answer. “But Sid smoked me in pool this morning. I still owe her twenty-five dollars.”
“Forget it,” Sid said, determined to be the bigger person this time. She’d made nearly as much in tips today as she had the day before. What was
twenty-five more dollars?
“Nope, I always pay my debts.” Lucas pulled a wallet from his back pocket and pushed the money her way. “Now we’re even.”
“How are you even?” Beth asked. “You’ve had two bets in two days and she’s beat you both times.”
“True.” Lucas leveled hazel eyes Sid’s way. “How about that ride?”
“Ride?”
“Home,” he said. “Is the offer still open?”
She’d sworn the night before never to offer again, but Lucas didn’t know that. And telling him he’d hurt her pride by turning her down twice would only make her sound pathetic. In truth, there was no reason to refuse. Except that being near him made her feel like she’d sucked in too many exhaust fumes, and trying to figure him out was like trying to read the directions on a new lift kit. In Japanese.
“No problem.” Right. No problem. This playing it cool thing was going to put her in the loony bin.
In that moment, Joe strolled out of the kitchen. “You got a minute?” he asked Lucas.
“Sid was just about to drive me home.”
“I can wait,” Sid said, knowing Joe wouldn’t ask unless he had something to say that needed saying. Far be it for her to cause a problem.
Lucas didn’t look happy, but he followed Joe back into the kitchen.
“What’s that about?” Sid asked Beth once the men were out of earshot.
“I’m not sure,” Beth answered, chewing her bottom lip.
Since Joe and Beth seemed to share the same brain, Sid couldn’t believe Beth didn’t know what Joe had up his sleeve. “You think this could get ugly?”
“No,” Beth said, fidgeting with her apron strings. “Joe wouldn’t start something here, right? Of course not.” She threw a bar rag over her shoulder. “I’d better cover these customers until they come back. You good? You look a little tired.”
“Is that your way of saying I look like shit?”
Beth rolled her eyes as she filled a glass with ice. “Forget I asked, cranky ass. And if you want to get anywhere, you’ll be a little nicer to Lucas.”
“Who says I want to get anywhere?” Sid wanted to get somewhere with Lucas, but with her limited experience and his taste for fancy chicks, she’d need a road map and a body double.
“Listen to your fairy godmother for once and just try to be nice. Maybe you’ll grow on him.” Beth filled the glass with soda and grabbed another. With a smirk, she added, “Like a fungus.”
Sid rolled her eyes. “Tell Lucas I’m waiting outside.”
Lucas warred between curiosity and annoyance as he followed Joe into the back office. Curiosity won out, until worry kicked in. “Is this about Dad? Did something happen at the hospital? He was fine when I talked to Mom this morning.”
“No, Dad’s doing good, far as I know,” Joe said, taking the chair behind the desk. Of course.
Lucas suppressed the eye roll. “Then what’s this about?”
Joe exhaled while rubbing the back of his neck. He looked … uncomfortable.
“Was there a problem with the restaurant last night?” Lucas asked. “Everything was fine when I left, and my drawer came up perfect.”
“This has nothing to do with the restaurant. I’m not sure how to say this.”
Lucas took the chair on the other side of the desk and crossed an ankle over his knee. “You’ve never had any problem saying exactly what you think. I don’t see why now should be any different.”
“Right.” But Joe stared at the desk as if the answer might be written there. “I know shit is still awkward between us. I want that to change.”
Joe talking about his feelings? Lucas hadn’t seen that coming.
“I do too, but it’s going to take time. It’s only been six weeks.”
“I know.” Joe sat up, leaning his elbows on the desk. “That’s not very long.”
“Depends on what you’re talking about. Six weeks for Dad to recover from this heart attack is feeling like forever. When it’s my future suddenly becoming your future, six weeks feels like six hours.”
“Then why did you send me up to Richmond?” Joe asked, meeting Lucas’s eyes for the first time since they’d entered the office. “You wanted me and Beth to be happy. Nobody set out to hurt you.”
“Yeah, I know.” Lucas ran a hand through his hair. “I’m mostly mad at myself for blowing it, though Beth tells me there was nothing to blow in the long run. It’s not easy to hear your fiancée would have left you whether she fell for your brother or not.”
Though he’d had this kind of conversation with Beth back when it all happened, Lucas had never called up Joe to hammer things out. He’d been more interested in hammering his brother into the ground at the time. Maybe they should have done this sooner.
“She’s happy here,” Joe said. “We’re both happy. We owe that to you.”
“Glad I could be of service.” As soon as the words were out, Lucas regretted them. “Sorry. Bruised ego. Leads to a lot of scorch-and-burn comments like that.”
“No problem.” Joe picked up a pen and starting tapping it against the desk. “That’s why this part is so hard.”
“What part?” Lucas tried to imagine what could possibly make things worse.
Then Joe pulled a small black box from his pants pocket. A ring box. Holy shit.
“Is that—”
“My mom’s ring. Dad gave it to me the day before we moved Beth’s stuff down here.” Joe spun the box between his fingers. “I think he expected me to propose before we shacked up.”
The air in the room felt thicker and nonexistent at the same time. A knot formed in Lucas’s stomach as if he’d just swallowed the paperweight on his desk back in Richmond. In the office where he should be right now. Where he’d be if his brother hadn’t screwed up his life and turned him into an unfocused idiot.
“So you’re going to—”
“Yeah. But I wanted to tell you first.”
“Why?” Lucas fought to keep his voice even. Unable to sit, he began pacing the small space. “You want my permission? My advice on how to do it?” Slamming his palms on the desk, he asked, “What the fuck do you want from me?”
Joe didn’t flinch. He just looked up from the ring box. “I don’t expect anything from you. But I figured I owe you the respect of letting you know before I did it. That’s all.”
Lucas had known this was for real. That Beth and Joe loved each other. That she loved his brother in a way she’d never loved him. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d wanted them to fail. He’d wanted this to be temporary, for Beth and Joe to break up.
What a selfish son of a bitch he’d turned out to be. He cared about these two people. How could he want them to suffer? To sooth his fragile ego or appease some arrogant need for revenge? What the hell kind of person would think like that?
“I guess that’s it.” Joe slipped the box back into his pocket. “Maybe I’ll wait awhile. Give it more time.”
“Don’t do that,” Lucas said.
“What?”
“If you want to wait to make sure you two are ready, then do it. But if you’re waiting for me, don’t bother.”
“I see,” Joe said, his shoulders dropping.
“No, I don’t mean it that way.” Lucas paced the room twice more, then sat down. “I’m not really mad at you. Hell, I’m not even sure if I’m mad.” He left the chair again. “Change that. I’m mad. But some days it’s with you and Beth, and some days it’s with this damn island, but most days I’m pissed at myself.”
Joe rose from his chair and grabbed a couple bar rags off the shelf by the door. “I can’t change what went down. I wouldn’t if I could, though I do wish it had happened differently.”
Off course he wouldn’t. He’d come out the winner once again.
Instead of voicing the callous thought, Lucas nodded and remained silent. Joe was trying to be considerate. Maybe if he’d done that two months ago …
“I’d better get out there. You want to ta
ke my Jeep?” Joe asked, holding out his keys. “I can ride home with Beth. I meant to offer last night.”
That’s when Lucas remembered Sid was waiting for him. “No, Sid’s taking me home.”
Joe put the keys back in his pocket. “Right.” He started to leave the office, then turned back. “About Sid.”
Lucas tensed. “What about her?”
“Just … be careful.”
“Why? Are you claiming her too?”
Joe leaned against the door frame. “I’ll give you a pass on that one. For now.”
He’d been out of line and he knew it. Damn temper. “Then why do I need to be careful around Sid?” Lucas asked, trying to change the tone between them. “Is she as violent as she seems?”
“No,” Joe said, without hesitation. “She’s not nearly as tough as she acts, but if you tell her I said that, I’ll kick your ass.”
Lucas couldn’t help but smile as Joe walked away, marveling at the power Sid Navarro seemed to wield over everyone on the island.
Why’d you take me up on the ride this time?” Sid asked. They’d driven less than half a mile in silence. After his talk with Joe, Lucas was hoping the silence would hold.
“Honestly?”
Sid looked over. “Why would I ask a question and then want you to lie?”
“Right.” This woman was entirely too literal. “I’m tired.”
Her eyes returned to the road and she nodded. “I can relate. I’ve helped out on weekends but that was nothing compared to the last two days. How the fuck do your parents do this?”
Lucas didn’t consider himself a prude, but the vulgar language from the delicate looking, if not sounding, package to his left took him off balance.
“Do you always talk like that?”
“Like what?”
“Dropping the F-bomb like that?”
The truck sped up and then zipped around a tourist on a bicycle. “Why? Do I offend your delicate sensibilities?”
Was she ever not defensive? “I’m not offended. Just curious.” Soaring oaks flowed past his window, their heavy limbs trailing the roof of the truck cab. He’d missed those old trees, though he hadn’t realized it until just now.