All or Nothing

by Dee Tenorio

  “Nothing,” Belinda made herself say, her determination to win steeling her nerves. There was no use considering the truth with her family. She would never become like her mother, or even like Corrine. She’d accepted the price long ago.

  Still, an hour or two later, even Belinda had to admit Corrine had outdone herself, a fact reflected in Lucas’s lit eyes. The nice, spring-style white dress with sunflowers on it and a white, wide-brimmed Easter hat Corrine assured her pulled the look together while covering the unredeemed sections of jaggedly cut hair at the back of Belinda’s head. It took forever to get the black Mark-it-All ink off her nails and cuticles, but when her sister was done, Belinda had a tolerable shade of peach polish on her newly trimmed finger- and toenails. There was some grumbling about what Belinda had been hiding under her steel-toe boots, but eventually, Corrine had soaked her skin into deep enough submission that she wouldn’t be an utter disgrace in a pair of sandals.

  It was disconcerting to look in the mirror and see all the traces of the life she’d created scrubbed away. All but her hair, which was still as unforgivably black as ever, though now it was slicked away from her face into a retro flip. Either Belinda’s hairdresser had cheated her when she offered the ultimate unconventional haircut or her sister was a cosmetic genius.

  And it was all worth it when Lucas smiled with true pleasure.

  Which terrified her more than anything in her life.

  But still, she walked out the door and let him take her hand to lead her to his car.

  “So, where are you taking me, Lonnigan? And it better be good. I don’t get all girled-up for nothing, you know.” Then again, how good could it be? He’d brought the dog, of all things. Sparky panted madly from the back seat, his tail beating against the leather with a series of cracks. “You need to get him a doggy blanket. He’ll rip up your seats in no time.”

  Lucas winced, leaning his car seat back further than she’d ever seen him do before. “I know.”

  “Taking up low-riding or something?”

  He turned his head to her briskly, but only answered with a smile. “Cruising.”

  “Ah.” She pretended to understand. They didn’t speak much as he turned into the freeway. A half hour later, he pulled into the parking lot of the Pacific Beach Boardwalk as the sun started sinking behind the buildings. She stared up at the roller coaster speeding over wild curves and the carousel beyond it. There were more rides, all of them colorful, filled with kids screaming and adults laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She turned to him. “Belmont Park? There are happy people here, Lonnigan. Are you insane?”

  “Nope. I always wanted to drag you here.” Drag being the operative word. He took her hand again, which she stared at for a few blank seconds. How did he do that? Just touch her and short-circuit her better judgment? “Now I have. Come on.”

  Her feet had a lot less traction on the sandy blacktop than her boots would have given her. “More unrealized teenage fantasies?”

  He completely missed her sarcasm because he said yes. The next thing she knew, she was sitting under an umbrella at the open court tables, Sparky tied to the leg of her cast iron chair, watching people go by while Lucas went for food. Assuming he could find anything that passed for real food here.

  “Not bloody likely.” She reached down to scratch the top of the dog’s softball-shaped head. So far, she’d seen a hotdog spot, a pretzel shop, a walking ice cream vendor and a popcorn guy. She leaned forward, watching two boys with dark hair walk together to the popcorn stand, but instead of the gold fluffy stuff, they were handed long, cinnamon-and-sugar-rolled churros.

  The boys turned together, smiles on their young faces, their dark eyes meeting hers for a brief second before their smiles fell. She stared, recognizing that look of curiosity and the onset of concern. Her heart raced, breath gone. It couldn’t be those boys. It was just another mistake. Another mirage. But still, the guilt flared and panic began to move in—

  “Hope you like funnel cakes,” Lucas’s voice interrupted. She looked up at his face in relief as he placed the small tray in front of her. He tilted his head in question, looking over at the concession stand for some source of malevolence.

  “I’m fine,” she made herself say, knowing the boys were gone. Besides, those boys were hardly the threat. Someday, Lucas would realize, the real source of malevolence in his life was her.

  She looked down at the red and white paper tray, finding the twisting tubes of fried batter covered in powdered sugar and decorated with fresh sliced strawberries. Lucas handed her a fork. She shook her head at him, taking it from him with a sigh. “Exactly how long have you been fantasizing about this?”

  “I think we were twelve the first time my dad brought us out here. I used to come here to run. Not so much anymore.” He gestured with his fork to the huge building behind her. “We went to The Plunge there.”

  She looked over her shoulder. The building housed a giant pool, but the outside was the real source of interest for her. The entire wall was a mural, using classic art deco styles to title the building and showcase its original 1920’s construction. People were painted in soft fading colors, the styles of the bathing suits and faces matching the era.

  “The coaster wasn’t working back then, though. I wanted to bring you, but—”

  “My mother said no, right?”

  “Actually, my dad did. He wasn’t sure he could watch all nine of us. Mom was out of town visiting her sister.”

  She stared at him. “You asked your father to bring my entire family?” The mere thought of such mayhem—even now—horrified her. The boys would have been babies and the four girls were screaming nightmares back then.

  Lucas shrugged. “You wouldn’t have been able to come alone.”

  True. Her mother worked and she’d had full control of the younger kids. “You really are nuts.”

  “It would have been worth it. Besides, you’d have liked the paintings.” He grinned and popped a strawberry in his mouth. “Eat up. You won’t like it if it gets cold.”

  She did as he said, letting the sweet sugar melt on her tongue. When the food was gone, she helped him clean up and Lucas led her to the beach. They walked on the sand barefoot, his hand in hers once again. She didn’t bother telling him to ask for it. At least when he just took it, she didn’t have to feel bad about telling him no. She could just enjoy the warmth of his palm and the guilty rightness of his touch. She let her toes sink into the wet sand every time the surf receded. They even let Sparky hop along the dissolving foam, ears flapping, bark-crazed and nuts. He’d smell horrible and probably sleep all the way home, but he’d be happy.

  She took off her hat as the sun sank behind the line of the horizon. It seemed silly to keep it on, since the wind played hell with everyone else’s hair. Deciding to give Lucas a thrill, she slipped her arm into the crook of his and leaned her head against his shoulder. They walked past people and pets, cyclists and volleyball players. Eventually, people were starting fires in the sand pits and most of the human traffic had moved on.

  “It could always be like this.” Lucas finally broke the pleasant silence. “If we let it.”

  She sighed, her vacation from reality obviously over. “No, it couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  She tried to disentangle herself, but he tightened his hold incrementally. Not a threat or a demand. It felt like an automatic reflex to keep her close. She stopped walking, hoping that would allow her some space. Lucas didn’t seem to get the point because he turned in front of her, releasing her arm only to loop both his hands behind her back and pull her flush into his hold. She had to look him in the eye while explaining this and that was never easy, even in the dark. Lucas simply saw too much, no matter how she tried to hide.

  “Tonight was nice, can’t we leave it like that?”

  “Only if tomorrow is nice, too.” He was tenacious, she had to give him that.

  “We’re not nice people, Lonnigan,” she reminded him. “
You’re grumpy, crabby and not a little bit obsessive.”

  “So? You’re rude, foul-mouthed and mean.”

  She scoffed, pushing at his brick wall of a chest with her free hand. “Geez, tell me how you really feel, why don’t you?”

  “Because if I did that, you’d run as far and as fast as you could.”

  She stared up at him, his face obscured by the dark shadows coming from the sea, only the blue lights from the nearby businesses illuminating his features. She touched the side of his face, the slight stubble at his jaw tickling her fingertips. How could he be so handsome, make her heart stutter and her body melt, while his brother had no effect on her at all? Was it the way he touched her, as if he had the right to command her? Or was it the longing in his eyes that no amount of darkness could hide?

  He lowered his head slowly, giving her all the time in the world to turn him down. But she didn’t. She wanted his kiss again. Wanted the taste of him on her lips. Craved it.

  His hands tightened at her back when his mouth met hers, smooth and cool from the breeze. But the searing heat of him soon took over. She opened to the touch of his tongue, teasing his with the tip of her own. She smiled at the growl she felt rumble in his chest before he swept inside. Then she was lost.

  Her hat and her sandals dropped to the sand. Her hands clung to him and her body surged to life. Yes…this was what she ached for when she was kissed by other men. No one, no matter how practiced the technique, could make her moan with just a kiss. His hands dropped lower, caressing her ass, which felt so much better through thin cotton than tight leather. She felt soft against his grip. Lush. Melted. He could lower her to the ground right now, the same way he did on prom night and she wouldn’t think twice. She’d wrap her legs around him and take him so deep inside she’d only have the feeling of being whole instead of being broken.

  He tore from the kiss, crushing her against him, his breath hot against her neck. “I want to make love to you, Belle,” he admitted roughly, gripping her tighter and pressing his cock against her belly.

  Part of her wanted that, too. Her heart and a few moist places decidedly south. But the rest of her froze. Panicked. Fled. “No.”

  He stiffened, lifting his head to meet her gaze. She ached to touch him, to kiss the tension from his jaw and his eyes. But that would only make things worse. He had to know, to understand. What he wanted from her was impossible.

  “We can have sex, Lucas. Right here, if that’s what you want, but I can’t make love to you.”

  His eyes widened with disbelief. Then, as usual, understanding. Or maybe just memory. “No one gets your heart, right?”

  It was hard not to flinch at his bitterness. “I don’t have one.”

  He let her go so fast she stumbled backward, upsetting the dog she didn’t realize had decided to park his bony butt behind her. Lucas took a few steps from her, lacing his hands together and folding them behind his head before taking a few steps into the surf. Belinda stood there, body still alight, her dress flapping around her legs as helpless to the wind as she was to Lucas’s pain.

  Except…the bastard was laughing.

  “What’s so damned funny all of a sudden?” she demanded.

  “You are,” he replied, turning to her, but there was no trace of humor on the hard planes of his face. “I have never met anyone as full of complete bullshit as you, Belle. And that’s saying a lot, considering I split an egg with Kyle.”

  “What are you—”

  “You don’t have a heart. Do you hear yourself when you say these things? Do you even comprehend how many lies you tell yourself each day? I lose count and I’m a goddamned accountant!”

  “You’re rambling.” And I’m not listening to it. If she did, she might have to admit he was right and she would never do that.

  “No, I’m frustrated!”

  “I could take care of that, but you turned me down,” she tossed over her shoulder, reaching down for Sparky’s leash. Damn dog was going to kill her if he kept hiding behind her feet.

  “This is not about sex,” Lucas growled.

  She laughed, the acidic sound burning her throat. “Like hell it’s not.”

  He reached for her, taking hold of her arm and spinning her around. “I love you, Belle. If you think I just want some random fuck in the sand, you’re out of your damned mind.”

  Belinda stared down at his hand, holding her tighter than he ever had before. She could handle his roughness during sex. She wasn’t the lightest hand in those moments either, but everything in her began to burn at the sight of his hand on her this way. “Let go, Lucas.”

  “Not until you start being honest with me.”

  She pulled at her arm, willing her anger to stay inside. But the terror inching inside grew teeth when he took hold of her other arm.

  “Belle—”

  “No!” She shoved at his chest, her scream startling him into letting go. He tumbled down to the sand while she stood over him, shaking.

  “Hey, everything okay over there?” someone called from the beach fire not too far away.

  Belinda brought her hands to her face, willing the trembling to stop. She wanted to run, wanted to throw up, wanted to fall to her knees and beg him to stop looking at her as if he’d done something to hate himself for.

  “Miss?” The voice was closer now, coming up behind her. Her trembling increased. She forced her mind to remember there were no bruises on her face this time. No bloody noses. Not even tears.

  “She’s fine.” Lucas rose from the sand, picking up her hat and her shoes with one hand. How many times had he done that for her while they were growing up? He hadn’t been able to protect her from Adam, but he’d known she hated the pity on other kids’ faces, hated the shame, and he’d shielded her time and time again.

  “Not asking you, buddy,” the kid had the temerity to say to a glowering Lucas. It’d be funny if it weren’t her life. When she was a kid, what she wouldn’t have given for someone to be so concerned when her father tried to rattle her teeth loose. Now, when she needed a hero the least, a perfect stranger swept in. Irony sucked.

  “I’m fine.” She turned to look at the guy. God, he couldn’t be more than twenty, a little soft in the middle from too much drinking over the summer. Lucas could have flattened him. She forced a smile past the bile and added, “Just a little misunderstanding.”

  Dear God…

  “You’re sure?” The kid swept another gaze over Lucas.

  She nodded. “Completely.”

  I’ve become my mother.

  The kid left, shaking his head because he didn’t believe her. How could he? She couldn’t believe what she’d just done, herself. If ever there were a reason to hate Lucas, she’d just found it.

  But she couldn’t hate him.

  So she hated herself a little bit more.

  “I never meant to scare you,” Lucas said quietly.

  She could just imagine the guilt coursing through him right now. He knew he hadn’t hurt her. But he’d triggered hurt she worked hard to bury. To overcome. “It’s just as well,” she said, suddenly tired. “We should turn back.”

  “Belinda.”

  “No, Lucas. I think we just proved why this would never work. You’re better off losing this bet. The last thing you need is to go around defending your honor because I can’t handle myself.”

  “The only one who thinks I’m honorable is you.” He fell in step beside her. It must have been a half mile before he spoke again, hands in his pocket, dog at his side. “I’m not giving up on us.”

  Somehow, she knew he’d say that. “You’re looking for a love affair. I can’t give you one. So if you stick around, it’s your funeral.”

  “You planning to do me in?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sexually, maybe.” She might want to get rid of him, but if he got off his high horse, she wasn’t going to miss out.

  “I doubt it.” He sounded so speculative she turned to stare at him.

  “Why? Mr. Ragin
g Hard-On get damaged back there?”

  “No, Mr. Raging Hard-On is keeping it zipped.”

  She laughed. “Sure you are. If I wanted to, I could get you in my bed at the drop of a hat. Faster if I wanted you on the floor.”

  His self-deprecating smile wasn’t aimed at her. “If I don’t get all of you, Belle, I don’t want you at all.”

  Her feet stopped moving on their own. He took a few steps past her, then stopped. Sparky drooped between them, probably wishing they’d pick him up.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  Lucas nodded. “I’ll admit to being desperate. But I’m not cheap.”

  Given how much they broke in her apartment the last time, she would never have called him that. “My body is the most I’m willing to offer. Even if I lose this bet, you’ll never have more of me than that.”

  “But you don’t think you’re losing,” he said, turning to walk again.

  Sparky looked at her, little ears low as he whined before following his master.

  “I’m not losing,” she called out to Lucas’s back. He didn’t seem to hear.

  Or maybe he just didn’t want to.

  How did he do it? Take her emotions on a trip that made the roller coaster over there look like a kiddie ride and come out on the other side as the man she couldn’t stay angry at? Why did he make her feel vulnerable and safe, miserable and happy, all at the same time? Was it on purpose? Or was it as close to charm as Lucas Lonnigan could get?