by Terri Osburn
The women sat in silence for a long moment, then Beth asked, “What are we going to do?”
“Hell if I know,” Will said. She’d been pondering the situation all day, but kept coming to the same conclusion. “She wants him and is determined she can love him and leave him with no problem. Who are we to say she can’t?”
Beth caught Will’s eye. “Her friends. Don’t we owe it to her to protect her?”
Will knew better than anyone how little your friends could protect you. “Sometimes you have to let friends figure things out on their own. I think this is one of those times.”
Lucas pulled in behind Sid’s truck at 6:55, still with no idea what the hell he was doing there. Nearly twelve hours before, he’d told her they couldn’t start anything. And now he was picking her up for a date. The only place he could think to take her in the rain was the marina restaurant. Dinner at Dempsey’s was out of the question.
Too many people to whom he’d have to explain. Besides, they’d never hear each other over the noise. At the marina, they could have a nice meal, just two adults sitting down to eat, then he’d take her home and this farce of a date would be over.
He considered honking, but his mother’s voice in his ear saying I taught you better manners than that had him climbing from the car. At least he didn’t have to use his mother’s minivan. Now that his parents were home, Lucas could once again enjoy the smooth ride of German engineering.
The rain had eased to a drizzle so he pulled the collar up on his sport jacket and made a break for the porch. The inside door was open so he knocked on the metal screen.
“Come on in,” yelled a voice from somewhere inside. “I’m almost done.”
Torn between irritation that she wasn’t ready and the lack of a proper greeting at the door, Lucas stepped inside and stopped to take in his surroundings. The interior before him could have been a magazine shoot for the perfect beach cottage. White paneling, well-worn aqua blue area rug, seashell-covered picture frames. Even the coffee table looked to be made out of salvaged wood from an old pier.
Two accent pillows on the couch. A multicolored throw draped naturally over the back of the sofa, and the arrangement of frames on the wall was artful chaos. Somehow it worked.
He’d expected something resembling a frat house. What he’d walked into was spotless without feeling sterile, welcoming, and purely feminine. Sid was clearly no frat boy. Something he should have remembered from their encounter on the beach.
“I just have to feed the cat, then I’ll be ready to go,” Sid said, entering the room while putting her hair up in a ponytail. She’d thankfully returned to her normal style of dress with jeans and an oversized gray shirt. Though not her usual tee with some obscene message. This one had a wide neckline that fell off one shoulder, revealing olive skin and what looked to be a black tank underneath.
Two questions hit Lucas at the same time. Why didn’t she ever wear her hair down? And Sid had a cat? He went with the second since having her hair down would undoubtedly have him longing to touch it all night.
“I didn’t peg you for the cat type.”
“I’m not. Curly made me take her.” Sid padded across the floor in white socks and snagged a pair of black boots off the floor beside the couch. “You can come all the way in, you know. I promise not to jump your bones and tie you to my bedpost.”
Lucas ignored the ping of disappointment. “How did she make you take a cat?”
“Curly has her ways.”
He followed her into the kitchen and spotted a smudge of gray fur hovering under a kitchen chair. At first it looked like a dried hair ball, then it moved. “That tiny ball of fur is your cat?”
“Yep.” Turning with a can of cat food in her hand, Sid put the can opener to work. “Lucas, meet Drillbit. Drillbit, this is Lucas. Shake hands and come out fighting.”
Lucas bent down to get a closer look. Big blue eyes blinked up at him. Upon closer inspection, he could see dark stripes throughout the light gray hair and a solid white chest with white on the tips of its feet. He didn’t go for pets much, but this one was cute.
“What kind of a name is Drillbit?”
“Stand around long enough and you’ll see.” Sid scooped the food into a small pink bowl, then moved to the sink to rinse off the spoon.
Before she’d turned off the water, something sharp pierced Lucas’s leg. “What the …” The innocent-looking blue eyes stared up at him again, but this time the rest of the animal was attached to his thigh. And climbing dangerously close to an important area of his anatomy.
He grabbed the cat around the middle. She was so small his fingers overlapped under the belly. He pulled but she held tight. “Can you get this thing off?”
Sid turned around. “Shit.” Before she could intervene, the demon spawn let go of his leg and wrapped around his hand.
“Motherfucker, this thing is possessed.”
“Such language, Counselor.”
He could see Sid was suppressing a laugh and shot her an evil look. “I should have known any pet of yours would have claws and not be afraid to use them.”
“Keep it up and you can get her off all by yourself. But I’ll warn you, she’ll shred that fancy jacket before you know what hit you.”
Sid lifted the feline by the scruff of her neck, supporting her with a hand beneath her bottom, and the kitten let go. Lucas’s hand was covered in scratches, two of them bleeding.
“You need a ‘beware of cat’ sign on the door.” He rinsed his hand in the sink as Sid cooed to the lioness-in-training. “Aren’t you worried she’ll latch onto your face?”
“We have an understanding.” Sid nuzzled the kitten’s tummy in a completely un-Sid-like way. “It’s funny, actually. Someone dropped her at Joe’s and Curly was afraid Dozer would eat her.” Sid spoke to the fur ball in a baby talk voice. “You’d have ripped that slobbery mutt to pieces, huh? That’s my girl.”
Lucas turned off the water and stood with his dripping hands over the sink, staring in disbelief. “Who are you and what have you done with Sid?”
She flipped him the bird.
“Ah, there you are.” After drying his hands on a towel hanging over the sink, Lucas noticed the cuts were still bleeding. Feeding the menace to Dozer sounded like a damn good idea. “I’m going to need a Band-Aid. Has that thing had its shots?”
“She’s like seven weeks old or something. Of course she hasn’t had her shots.” Sid pulled a box of bandages from the drawer behind her and threw them his way. “Doctor yourself up, then we’ll go. And don’t be such a whiner.”
“You’re going to have to help me.”
Sid turned, eyebrows up. “Excuse me? Do I look like a nurse?”
“No,” he said, “but you’d look really hot in the uniform.” She blushed, as he knew she would. A compliment was the only way to shut the woman up. “I’m buying you dinner; the least you can do is put a Band-Aid on me.”
“You’re buying me dinner?” Sid asked, opening the small white box.
“I made you lie by insinuating we had a date, so now I’m fulfilling my obligation by taking you out to dinner.” Best to set the boundaries up front. “Quick meal at the marina, on me, then we’re done.”
Sid ripped the bandage open. “No.”
“No, what? Are you refusing to go out with me?” About time Sid came to her senses.
“No on the ‘then we’re done’ part.” Raising the Band-Aid, she stopped. “We should put something on that first. Hold on.” A tube came from the same drawer where the bandages had been. “Hold still.”
Sid held his hand steady, calloused fingers pressed gently against his palm. In the same way he imagined she’d change a spark plug, she squeezed antibacterial cream onto the tiny wound, then placed the Band-Aid over it, making sure the ends were secure.
“There.” When she looked up, he felt her breath against his chin. Chocolate eyes went wide, then her lids lowered, long dark lashes resting softly against her cheek. She wore n
ot a speck of makeup and he found the lack of affectation attractive. Sid didn’t need anything artificial to look beautiful.
She just was.
Sid licked her lips and Lucas cleared his throat. “We’d better get going.”
Maybe the rain had picked up. He could use the cold shower.
They’d arrived at the restaurant by the time Sid’s heart rate returned to normal. Which wasn’t that long since her house was about a minute from the marina. Though with Lucas at the wheel it was more like two minutes. The man drove like he couldn’t reach the gas pedal. Frannie the Red Hatter could have outrun him. On her walker.
By the end of the main course, they’d exhausted such scintillating topics as the weather, Joe’s business, the necessary evil of tourists, and the passable taste of the wine. Sid sucked at small talk, but she was doing her best. Lucas didn’t look miserable, which she took as a good sign.
When the waiter breezed past, Lucas waved him down.
“What are you doing?” Sid asked.
“Asking for the check. Why?”
Sid huffed. “We haven’t had dessert yet.”
Lucas looked pained. “You’ve had half a basket of rolls, a baked potato, the largest steak they serve, and eaten my broccoli as well as your own.”
“You said you didn’t want it.” Wasn’t as if she’d swiped it from his fork.
“I didn’t want it. But how could you have room for dessert?”
What kind of a question was that? “There’s always room for dessert. Especially here.”
The waiter had finished taking the order from a couple three tables down and now stood over Sid and Lucas. “Can I get you folks anything else?”
“I guess so,” Lucas said. “We’ll need to see a dessert menu.”
“Forget the menu, Goober. Bring one To Die For and one cheesecake.”
“Coming right up.”
Lucas leaned over the table and whispered, “Did you just call him Goober?”
Another waiter passed their table carrying a large plate of scallops. The scent made Sid’s mouth water. She’d have to talk Lucas into another date so she could order those. Her budget didn’t allow dinner at the marina anytime she wanted.
“Of course. Why?”
He whispered louder. “A bit insulting, don’t you think?”
Sid propped her elbows on the table. “That’s his name. We went to high school together. Don’t you remember him?”
Lucas jerked back, his gaze shooting toward where the waiter had disappeared into the kitchen. A second later his eyes opened wide. “That’s Goober McGruber?”
“The one and only. How could you forget that red hair?” Sid straightened her napkin. “Though I guess there’s less of it now.”
“Huh.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t anyone get off this island?”
Sid prickled. “There’s nothing wrong with this island. If you spent more time here you’d know that.”
Lucas snorted. “I grew up here, Sid. There’s nothing on this island.”
He had no idea how close he was to getting a bruised shin. “Then what are we sitting in? Where have we been working every day for the last week? And where did you get the best Key lime pie of your life?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“And what about your family? And my family, small as it may be. We have lives here, and friends, and it’s pretty shitty of you to dismiss us all as nothing.”
Goober returned with their desserts, but looked apologetic for interrupting what was clearly a heated discussion.
“The cheesecake goes to asshole over there,” Sid said, too frustrated with Lucas’s attitude to curb her speech. Curly would have scolded her for that one.
Lucas slid his empty plate to the edge of the table to make room for the new course, but remained silent. Sid did the same, allowing Goober to set down the new plate and pick up the empty ones.
“Will there be anything else? Coffee?”
“This is good, thanks.” Lucas smiled at Goober, then once he walked away, stared at Sid.
After several seconds, she cracked. “What?”
“I’m sorry.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
She looked for mocking in his hazel eyes but only found contrition. “Good.”
“Let me rephrase.”
Her eyes rolled so hard she nearly went dizzy.
“There is nothing to do on this island,” he corrected.
Sid slid a bite of her chocolate cake layered with chocolate mousse sitting on a crunchy chocolate cookie base—hence the name “To Die For”—into her mouth, and contemplated her reply as the sweetness soothed the bitterness brought on by the man across the table.
“You know, preppy,” she said, sliding another piece onto her fork, “for such a smart guy, you don’t know much of anything.”
Lucas coughed, nearly choking on his cheesecake. After wiping his mouth with his napkin, he said, “Excuse me?”
Another warm dose of chocolate heaven delayed her response. “By my calculations, you’ve been off this island, for the most part, for eleven years now.” It was eleven years, one month, and four days, but who was counting?
He leaned to the side, draping an arm over the back of his chair. “And?”
“A lot has changed around here.”
The man had the nerve to bust out laughing. Rearranging his napkin on his lap, he retrieved his fork, but before taking a bite, he pointed the utensil at Sid. “You’re funny. Nothing ever changes on this island. The natives still talk the way their ancestors did two hundred years ago—like they grew up in New England in the seventeen hundreds. They still tell the same stories, sitting in the same old rocking chairs, because making life sound interesting is the only way to keep the reality of how uninteresting it really is from putting everyone into a depression.”
Lucas shoveled a large bite of cheesecake into his blowhole as if that would add punctuation to the load of crap he’d just spewed.
Sid shook her head. “You’re wrong. And I’m going to prove it.”
“How?” Lucas mumbled around his cheesecake.
“I’m telling your mother you talked with your mouth full.” He smacked his free hand on the table, but she ignored him. “I bet I can show you a good time on this island. Several good times. And I don’t just mean sex, though that’s still on the table. For now.”
She dug into her cake again, enjoying watching Lucas gasp for air. Cheesecake must have gone down the wrong pipe. Once he appeared to be out of danger, she continued.
“We’ll start tonight. After dinner we’re going to the movies.”
The dessert down, Lucas leaned back and motioned for the waiter again. “There is no movie theater on Anchor Island.” He pulled a wallet from his inside coat pocket and drew out a gold credit card. Fancy ass.
“See? You’re wrong again.” Sid reached over and grabbed Lucas’s left wrist to see his watch. “Movie starts in twenty-five minutes. We’re good to go.”
Goober set the check on the table, then looked to Sid. “You want a to-go box for that, Sid?”
“I’ll have it done before you finish running pretty boy here’s credit card.”
Lucas sighed and slid the card into the guest check holder without saying a word. Goober deserved credit for remaining professional and ignoring his customers’ strange behavior. They would certainly be the winning odd couple of the night.
“Are you going to insist on playing out this charade? You and I both know there is no movie theater anywhere on this island.”
“Dude,” Sid said, slicing what was left of her cake into three large pieces. “When are you going to learn I don’t bluff? I wasn’t bluffing this morning. And I’m not bluffing now. I’ll prove to you there’s plenty of fun to be had on this island. With and without our clothes on.”
Lucas had no intention of having sex with Sid Navarro, no matter how often she insisted they would. Sex with Sid would only lead to unwanted complications. He was going back to Richmond. He would s
traighten out his career, and he would make partner.
And yet, he really wanted to have sex with Sid.
If someone had told him he’d be attracted to a hard-headed, dirty-mouthed, mentally unstable woman with a competitive streak and a body built for sin, he never would have believed them. Lucas liked good girls. He always had. Not that Sid was necessarily a bad girl. She just played one in his dreams.
Bottom line, Sid was not his type. He liked the girl next door. The woman who could throw a dinner party, schmooze with politicians, and go shopping with the other partners’ wives. Not that he had antiquated ideals about the fairer sex. Though maybe referring to them as the fairer sex didn’t make him sound all that progressive either.
Regardless, women could do it all and they had the right to do as much or as little as they wanted. He wasn’t out to set societal standards for all womankind. He just wanted a certain type of woman, preferably one who wouldn’t pretend to be one thing, turn into something else, then leave him for his brother.
“Turn left up here, where those cars are parked.” Sid had been giving him directions since they’d left the restaurant. He hadn’t bothered to argue with her statement about them having sex. He’d made his stance clear that morning and would not be swayed.
At least not from the neck up. From the neck down was a different story.
Once he’d parked the car and cut the engine, Lucas recognized the building before him. “This is Arthur Berkowitz’s law office. What are we doing here?”
“Wrong again, Dempsey. This was Arthur Berkowitz’s law office.” She flopped a hand toward the building like a game show model showing off the next item up for bid. “Now it’s Artie B’s Island Theater.”
He leaned forward and looked up. Sure enough, those four words flashed on a gaudy red and blue neon sign hanging from the roof peak. “You have got to be kidding me.” Artie had said there were no takers for the practice, but a movie theater?
“I need a bathroom stop and time to get popcorn so hurry up.” Sid dashed out of the car and jogged through the drizzle to stand under the rusty awning covering the front door.