by Jan Irving
No, natch that. He knew why. Taz was drop dead gorgeous at six-five with black hair and slanted green eyes. He was the ladies’ man of the fire hall—so that if they had a call, he’d be the one coming out the door carrying a beautiful woman wearing red satin panties and nothing else.
Luke had done a couple of kinky threesomes with Taz, enough to know the guy loved sex and he didn’t care what gender he fucked. He wouldn’t care about Sian’s hand. He’d just want to get into her black thong.
Except he was Luke’s friend, so he’d never try anything with his girl. Luke was such a pathetic bastard sometimes…
“Long night,” he said, trying to deflect Taz’s radar.
“Sounds promising,” Taz purred. “Tell me more. Are we talking Luke steppin’ out of his awkward thang and putting a lady into handcuffs? ‘Cause that’s just hot, dude.”
“Last night didn’t work out.” His body felt like a balloon, slowly deflating. Now he wanted to go to sleep, just as his work day was starting. Perfect.
“This was her, wasn’t it?” Taz asked, slinging an arm around Luke. “The mysterious Sian. Her name sounds like a total perfume ad. I can see her coming out of the surf like that chick in the first James Bond movie. You know, the one with the knife in her belt? That was seriously sexy. I love dangerous women.”
“Ursula Andress, and she’s nothing like Sian. Sian’s…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “She’s not like that.”
“And you are so fucked.”
“I am so fucked.” His voice got husky. “She ran from me.”
Taz studied him as the parking lot began to warm around them, sending up the smell of fresh asphalt. It was going to be another scorcher. “You finally went for it. Come on, I’ve seen you in action, she must have wanted more of your brand of honey, brother.”
“I didn’t get Plan A in action,” Luke said. He had finally broken down a couple of months ago and talked about his dream girl with Taz. He hadn’t got too specific, but it had been obvious he had some walls to break down. Taz and he had gamed it out. Dinner, maybe a movie or dancing, then home where he’d stroke the skin of her bare back after a nightcap. Just that one little touch to make her hungry for more. Sex wouldn’t happen for at least a month. He’d wanted to win his life partner, not merely score.
“But action was had, yes?” Taz looked grave, not like he wanted juice, so Luke nodded.
“Very direct action and then…fallout.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah.”
Taz raised a finger. “But we can fix this.”
“I made her cry, Taz.”
Taz’s eyes sharpened. “Cade, you wouldn’t—you didn’t hurt her?”
“Fuck no!” Why again had he decided to go all true confessions? Bad idea.
“Okay, okay, I didn’t think so. I mean… You’ve always been a little shy around women, you know? You treat them like glass despite being a natural Dom.”
Yeah, like he would ever let Sian see that side of him. He didn’t want to scare her…more than he already had. “It just…happened.”
“Sex.”
“Yeah.”
Luke practically saw smoke coming from Taz’s head his gears were spinning so hard. “Luke, you gotta go see her. You gotta make it right.”
“She won’t talk to me.”
“Where does she work?”
“Coffee house in the strip mall on fourth.”
Taz’s eyes widened. “I know the one. Their baked stuff is to die for.” And Luke could see he was speculating on which of the attractive baristas was Luke’s girl. “They got our calendar on the wall in the back.”
Luke coloured. “I know.”
The guys had agreed to go the extra mile for a special calendar for charity. Some of them had worn swimsuits—some like Taz and Luke had just gone with their skin. But hell, they’d sold a lot of calendars.
Taz grinned. “You just gotta show her you’re more than a pretty centrefold.”
“How?” His voice actually cracked. He’d thought it was hell, wanting Sian and never having her, but he didn’t know if he could drive back to that fancy house and spend another night in it, knowing he’d made her cry.
Chapter Four
“Luke, I think we need to talk,” Sian told her reflection firmly. I’ve lost him, her inner critic jibbed. And Sian flubbed the rest of her speech by doing the tear thing. Christ, she couldn’t even face off against the mirror in the staff bathroom at Coffee Dreams. Wonderful.
“Knock, knock,” Dharma Monroe called, her breathy wind-chime voice a gentle intrusion.
“Hey,” Sian said, throwing some cold water on her face. It didn’t help with the bags under her eyes, but seventy-two hours of straight sleep probably wouldn’t take the edge off those puppies.
She looked…fragile.
And she hated to look fragile. It was like asking life to give her another one-two to the jaw.
“Okay, you’ve been acting weird all morning. What gives? Bad date last night?”
Sian laughed. The date with Matthew, the hot lawyer who worked one storefront over from Coffee Dreams—she’d totally forgotten it. “No, it was great. You were right, Matt definitely has a sweet tooth. He ordered crème brûlée and tiramisu last night. Not that I blame him. The crème brûlée was scented with fresh rosemary.”
“So he shared some dessert with you, huh?”
When Sian didn’t even blush, Dharma went on, “He’s a big guy.” Dharma’s eyes half closed as if she were savouring thinking of Mathew, who was an amateur boxer as well as a lawyer.
“Next you’ll want him on the calendar.”
“Mmmmm.”
Sian wasn’t going to throw stones at her employees loving the calendar. The one where she’d seen her little stepbrother wearing nothing but his incredible suntan. It had been a solid crack in the wall she’d put around him years ago, when her eyes had kept going in a forbidden direction.
“No, I didn’t have a bad date with Mathew. More like I can’t remember it,” Sian said.
“Ouch. Have a heart, some of us haven’t been asked out by our moonlighting warrior. Did you see he had a shiner this morning from his last fight? I think it’s the ‘s’ in sexy.”
“You would, since your typical fight is deciding if you’ll do a restorative yoga class or branch out into ultra-mellow yoga nidra,” Sian said, smiling at Dharma.
“So I’m a cliché!” Dharma said. “But I have to live up to my name, even if I’d prefer it was ‘tantric’, as in sex.”
“Everything you like is sex.”
“Well…yeah.” Dharma widened her eyes at Sian. “What’s not to like about getting sweaty and having lots of orgasms? Oh my Goddess!”
“What?” Sian looked around to see if her coffee shop had been blasted by the Death Star.
“You so got some.”
Oh shit. Now she was blushing.
“Who was he? And don’t say it was your Hello Kitty! vibrator.”
Sian had to laugh. Dharma had bought her that unspeakable toy for her last birthday. When she’d opened it she’d been aware of Luke’s amused-but-hot look, as if he was imagining what she might do with it alone.
“Oh, crap, how long has this volcano been ready to explode?” Sian moaned.
“Volcano? Oh, you gotta dish. You can’t say ‘volcano’ and…is that a hickey?”
“Kill me now.”
“Not until you spill, woman.”
“IhadsexwithLuke.”
“Whaaaat?” Dharma’s orange painted lips formed a big ‘O’.
Sian covered her eyes. “Don’t make me say it twice.”
“You finally did it.” Dharma’s voice was soft, dropping the teasing between girls thing.
“Finally? What do you mean—”
“I mean the way he looks at you. Every work day he comes in this coffee shop and the way he looks at you—”
“Stop. I never saw that.”
“‘Cause he looks away when you might catch him
doin’ it, like it’s a dirty secret, the way he wants you. But just last Monday, when you were bent over, shovelling fresh espresso from the roaster, his eyes were all ‘I’d tap that’. And not in a casual way, more in a ‘that’s my woman’s ass’ way. He actually glared at two other guys who were also checking you out. It was kinda…sweet.”
Now Sian’s mouth rounded.
“You need to sit down.”
“I need to sit down,” Sian repeated, feeling like she’d just taken another hit from a two by four. She’d been sneaking looks at Luke for years and had always hated herself for it. How could she want him when they’d been raised as brother and sister? It was so wrong.
“So what brought it on? Did you have a fight or something, or did he say, ‘you know, I’ve been wanting to touch you forever so—’”
Sian’s throat closed up. She shook her head. “My zipper… My hand.” She waved the hand that was missing the tips of her second and third fingers. “He helped me with my dress and next thing I was up against the wall and he was—”
Dharma’s mouth did that ‘O’ thing again. “Wow.”
“Um.”
“So what did he say after you’d—”
“He didn’t say anything.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, I didn’t…” She shoved her hair back. “I ran.”
“It was that bad?”
“It was that good.”
Dharma didn’t say anything. Now she was just watching Sian, taking her cue from her.
“So that’s it.”
“You know you have to talk to him.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I just wish I could stop thinking about it!” And she knew that was no way to handle it. “It’s just so big. He’s so big.”
“Really?” Dharma drawled and Sian suddenly laughed.
“I mean, he looms large in my life.”
“Sian, have you ever asked yourself why you still live in the same house? Why he never moved out? I mean, there had to be women.”
“I… He’s just there.”
The bell rang over the front door. Sian shot to her feet. She wasn’t sure she was relieved or bummed this convo was over. What she was, was shaky and sweaty. Just thinking about what had happened between her and Luke had that power, even hours later.
“Sian—” Dharma made a grab for her arm. “You should stay here and chill.”
“No, I need to work.” She shoved through the swinging door, seeing her mangled hand in relief against the stainless steel wall. When it had been freshly healing she’d had to learn how to do things like dress herself and use a computer one-handed.
She’d spent hours in the kitchen, learning to bake all over again. Even when the dressing was gone, it was amazing how clumsy you could be when the tops of two fingers were gone. She’d broken one of her favourite ceramic bread bowls. Luke had called a Waterloo and picked her up some cheap stainless steel ones until she was less clumsy.
She still had them.
Thinking of Luke made her feel lost, but suddenly there he was, standing at the wooden counter, waiting to order coffee.
“Luke.” She wanted to run to him, she wanted to hide.
He nodded, his gaze all over her face, his own pale under his tan. He looked as if he hadn’t slept any better than she had.
Oh, God, this was going to be bad, this was going to hurt, her gut whispered.
“What…what can I get you?” she asked him, feeling as wooden as the damn counter. Talk to him! she yelled at herself. But she didn’t know where to start. Luke had always seen through her cracks, always found a way to make her feel better without her actually having to come out and reveal herself.
But what they’d done together had shattered everything between them as surely as she’d broken that bread bowl years ago. And she didn’t know what to do now. She didn’t know.
“I didn’t come for coffee.” His jaw bunched, the muscles working. Angry. He was angry that she’d thought he’d just waltz in here after what they’d done. After his hands had held hers, cupped against the wall as he rammed into her, over and over again.
“No, of course not.” But she was numb, she was locked inside herself. Luke was the key, he’d always been the key.
“Can I talk to you?”
“Sure.” Her heart was pounding as she pulled off her apron and walked out from behind the counter. She’d done this a thousand times before, when he’d picked her up and given her a ride home after work. It had never felt as huge as it did now.
She was sensitised to all kinds of things about him she’d never allowed herself to dwell on before. He smelt hot and sweaty, as if he’d worked out with the guys in the fire hall. He had a trace of dark blond whiskers on the left side of his jaw, as if he’d missed them shaving. The dark circles under his eyes only made their shade a more burning blue as he looked at her. How he looked at her…
She felt shy, crossing her arms over her breasts.
“Outside.” He nodded to the door and she followed him, smiling over her shoulder at Dharma automatically. She caught a worried look on her friend’s face.
The door swung shut and Luke hesitated. “Sian… I’m sorry for what I…”
Sorry. He was sorry. He regretted what had happened.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she said. Then she realised how idiotic that was, as if he’d forgotten to pick up milk or something. Not as if he’d fucked her to within an inch of her life.
“Don’t worry about it,” he repeated blankly. Then he laughed. “How could I not worry about it? It’s you.”
“You’re right, what happened…was so wrong.”
Luke swallowed. And again, as if he was feeling sick. “You think it was wrong?” His voice cracked.
She could do this. She’d been turning away from him for years and it had meant that she’d had him in her life. If they went there, God knew what would happen. She couldn’t lose him. She absolutely could not lose him.
Safe ground. They had to get back to—
“I’ll be packed up by tonight,” Luke was saying.
Sian felt like he’d punched her in the chest.
“What?”
But he’d turned away.
She lifted her hand. She had to stop him. They had to… Everything she said was wrong.
He said, “I don’t know what the hell I was doing, living with you.”
Chapter Five
As Luke reached the corner of the block, Elton John was singing ‘Sorry seems to be the hardest word’. He stopped the truck with a screech, threw open the door.
He made it to the dumpster outside the back of the Chinese takeout before he vomited, losing the toast Taz had insisted on making for him like the little woman…
When there was nothing left, he wiped his streaming eyes.
“Here, dude, you look like you could use this.”
Luke looked up, hoping like fuck it wasn’t anyone he knew. It was, but he didn’t know Matt from the law office that well. Just saw him in Sian’s coffee house sometimes. He took the offered bottle of water, rinsed his mouth.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. I hope it wasn’t something you ate at Coffee Dreams. I was just going there.”
“What? No.” His head pounded like an empty drum. Wrong, Sian had said. But what she’d meant was unnatural. She really did think of him as her little brother and all those dreams, those fantasies he’d had for years were just wrong and sick.
“Shit, man, you look really bad. Do you want to come in my office and sit down?” Matt offered.
“No,” Luke managed, hearing the hoarseness in his own voice. What he really wanted to do was go somewhere and cry like the total pussy he was turning into.
“You don’t look like you can drive.”
Luke’s bones locked up around a ‘hell, yeah, I can drive’. But he’d worked too many accident scenes to put himself behind the wheel right now. Matt was right.
“I need a breather.” He studied Matt
, taking in the towering height, the bulging muscles. And yet the guy had a dancer vibe, like he was light and deadly on his feet. His black eyes were oddly vacant, as if part of him was checked out. “You’ve got a shiner.”
Matt rubbed it. “Yeah. I was thinking about how fucked up last night was and…whammo! Took one while I was sparring.”
“Last night was fucked up for you too?” So his ass wasn’t the only one getting bitch slapped by the love genie. Good to know. But somehow that didn’t make him feel any better.
“Yeah, I really like this woman…well, you know her.”
His stomach tightened. Oh, fuck no. “Um.”
“Sian at the coffee shop. I asked her out.”
“Oh shit.” Luke covered his eyes. He was so not up to hearing this.
“And we finally go out last night…”
“Look—”
“And she’s a total airhead.”
“What?” Matt’s jacket was fisted in Luke’s hands. He had him up against the brick wall. “How can you say that? She’s…”
“Whoa! Time out, man!”
When his vision wasn’t red like his pounding blood, Luke saw the way Matt was staring at him. He dropped his hands. “Shit!”
“You know her. Like Biblically.”
Luke swallowed. “She’s my stepsister.”
“Oh fuck.”
“And she’s not an airhead,” Luke growled. “She just…she freezes up with guys because of her hand.”
“Her hand, but that’s nothing.” Matt looked confused.
“Not all the guys she goes out with think so.” Luke remembered one hellish night when he’d been sitting in their empty kitchen, counting the hours before Sian came home from her date. Then the call. She’d sounded stiff on the phone, but that was okay. He knew his princess couldn’t help it. Politeness was her default.
But the fact she’d seriously locked down her emotions had scared him. Had the guy she’d been with hurt her? Before he could demand she tell him, Sian was off the phone.
When he’d arrived at the restaurant, it was raining so hard he couldn’t tell if she was crying.
She got in the car and he’d just looked at her.