The Damaged Heroes Collection [Box Set #1: The Damaged Heroes Collection] (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream)

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The Damaged Heroes Collection [Box Set #1: The Damaged Heroes Collection] (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream) Page 87

by James, Sandy


  Lucas suddenly turned and pushed Joy back against the door. Bracing one arm beside her head, he raised his hand to cover her breast, drawing a surprised gasp from her lips before he again covered them with his own. Through the thin material of her shirt, he stroked her, making her breasts heavy and aching for more. Joy’s hands moved to claim every inch of him. Chest, stomach, hip. Her palms covered that sexy backside of his and pulled him toward her. Feeling his arousal pressing to her, she pushed her hips against him and was rewarded with a throaty growl.

  If she intended to drive him insane, Joy was succeeding. The memories of the delight Lucas had found in her arms assailed him from every angle. The flowery smell of her hair. The feel of that soft skin. The taste of her lips. The fact that she was rubbing up against his erection wasn’t helping him maintain any semblance of control. If he let this go on too much longer, there would be no stopping.

  As she seductively lifted her knee, sliding it up his thigh to rub her now bare foot against his calf, he groaned in agony. “Joy, we... we can’t.” But he kissed her again as he grabbed her knee when it reached his hip and pressed into her. So close, so very close. All he needed to do was lift her skirt and undo a few buttons on the fly of his jeans...

  Though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he dropped her leg. “No.” Lucas dragged his lips away to put a mere inch between his body and hers. A deep breath didn’t restore control. “We can’t.” Her disappointed whimper stroked his ego. He sure as hell didn’t want to be alone in this, didn’t want to be the only one grinding his teeth in frustration.

  “I know, but... I want you, Szivem. I want to feel you inside me again.”

  It was his turn to groan. If Joy kept saying stuff like that, there was no way he was leaving the apartment without making love to her. Shit, he needed to find some self-control, and he wasn’t going to be able to do so with her standing that close. Lucas took a few steps back and almost stomped on one of her cats. The calico meowed and began to rub against his leg.

  Joy’s senses seemed to return in a rush. She was sliding her foot back into the sandal and blushing enough that people would probably mistake her face as sunburned. “I’m... I’m sorry. You must think—”

  “That you’re beautiful and too tempting for me to be alone with for very long before I want to rip your clothes off,” Lucas replied before he could censor himself. The smile she gave him eased his fear that he had offended her with his honesty.

  “I need to get back. Papa will be looking for me.”

  “Or Tamas will,” Lucas blurted out, wishing he could control what he said around her, especially immature, jealous things. Joy turned all of his brains to warm mush. Not that he minded.

  Her weighty sigh hung in the air like a dark cloud. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I... I don’t encourage him.”

  He reached out to stroke her cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I know, Sweetheart. I know. I’m sorry I said that. Go on. Go back to work. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Joy brushed a quick kiss on his lips and left. Lucas let his gaze wander the room before it settled on the collage of sketches she had made of him that she had put back on her wall.

  Allowing himself a smug smile, Lucas returned to Gypsy.

  Chapter 15

  “I’m fine, Mama. Honest. You don’t need to stay here with me. I’m sure there are a million things you need to do in the kitchen.” Joy hoped against hope to find a way to get away from Gypsy and out to the old mansion. “I just need some rest. I’ve worked so many days straight, and I wanted to sleep or, you know, watch some TV or...or something.” Snapping her fingers as another plausible excuse tumbled into her head, Joy said, “Or I’ll sketch. That’s it. I’ll sketch.” Did she sound as much like a liar as she feared she did?

  Illona held the back of her hand to Joy’s forehead and frowned in concern for what seemed like the hundredth time. Nerves taut, Joy felt her patience as well as her chance to see Lucas slipping away like the last grains of sand through an hourglass.

  “You might be a bit feverish,” Illona commented. “Is your stomach upset?”

  “No, Mama. My stomach’s not upset. I’m just really, really tired. Go on back to Gypsy. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” Please, Mama. Please just go away.

  Janos came strolling into the apartment wearing an enormous, mischievous grin that told Joy he was definitely up to something. When she had asked for his help, he had hedged, never promising to do anything except consider her request. But she always knew he would come through for her in the end. She just wished she knew what he intended to do so she didn’t botch their chances at success with her ignorance.

  “Aren’t you ready to go yet?” he asked in a scolding voice.

  She probably appeared as confused as she felt. “Go?”

  “Silly little sister,” Janos said with a chuckle and a brotherly tug on her braid. “How could you forget? You promised you’d go look at houses with me.” Clucking his tongue at her, he played the part of disappointed sibling well.

  “I did?” she asked. Janos threw Joy a chastising glare. “Oh, I... I did. I promised to go...um...look at houses with you.”

  Tapping a finger gently against her chin, Illona eyed them both suspiciously. “Why would you need to look at houses, Janos?”

  “I can’t rent the one I’m in forever. Besides, it’s in a crappy neighborhood. If I’m going to run this restaurant for the rest of my life, I need a place of my own. Shortstuff here promised to help me go scout out houses.”

  Joy almost laughed aloud at the faux innocent face her brother made. Squelching her amusement, she coughed a chuckle into her fist.

  “I thought you were tired, Jozsa,” Illona said as she continued to shift her wary gaze between Joy and Janos. Their mother undoubtedly saw through the ruse, but Joy wasn’t sure just how much their mother understood. “Perhaps you should stay here and rest.”

  “No!” Joy replied much louder than she should have. Restraining her enthusiasm over the turn of events, she stated more calmly, “No, that’s okay. Janos needs me. I’ll... I’ll be fine.”

  Joy stared at her mother, sending pleading glances and hoping that Illona understood how important this was, how much she needed to go. Please, Mama. Please. Let me go.

  Illona gave a curt nod, and Joy almost sighed in relief. “I’ll help the cooks get things ready for tonight’s dinner crowd. You two are...free to go. I’ll handle things with your Papa.” Illona arched an eyebrow toward Joy. “I assume you will be back late.”

  Joy rushed into her mother’s arms. “Thank you, Mama. Szeretet. I love you.”

  “Szeretet, Jozsa.” Illona patted her daughter’s back, but even though she obviously saw through the deception, she didn’t say anything else before she left Joy’s apartment. A lecture would probably be in the cards in the next few days, but Joy would gladly endure it without complaint in return for a day with Lucas.

  “You ready to go?” Janos asked as he picked up her art bag.

  “You don’t have to go. I can—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want to be here any more than you do, and Lucas invited me to his place. Besides, Tuesdays are dead. Just regulars, so they won’t need me. Lucas said Seth Remington makes a wicked hot barbeque sauce.” He scoffed at the statement. “Hot? Ha! I’m all for trying to see if he can singe a tough Hungarian tongue.” Janos gave her a friendly but tad too rough clasp on the shoulder. “The man has met his match.”

  * * * *

  Lucas was standing on the top of the ladder reaching up to paint the last bare wood of the eaves when he saw the gold Saturn pull up next to the house. For the first time that day, he allowed a smile to form on his lips.

  “Oh, Lucas,” Sam called up to him in a sing-song voice that made him want to throw his paintbrush at her. “She’s here.”

  Instead of the brush, he tossed a nasty glare at his sister-in-law and Katie when they giggled like a couple of twittering school girls. “Real mature,
ladies. Real mature.”

  Climbing down the ladder faster than he probably should have, Lucas almost overturned the half-filled can of white paint resting on the ladder’s shelf. He grabbed the teetering paint can, set it on the grass next to the ladder, and hurried to Joy. She dropped her art bag and threw herself into his arms.

  Lucas hugged Joy so tight she probably couldn’t breathe. Everyone was staring at them, but he really didn’t care. At that moment, he wished that they would all just leave. He wanted to kiss her until she couldn’t think straight, until she sagged against him, but not in front of his family and friends.

  All he really cared about was that Joy had come back to their house after having been gone for far too long. She was back in his arms where she belonged. “I missed you,” he whispered in her ear.

  Joy evidently didn’t have any problem with modesty because she stood on tip-toe, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him. “I missed you too,” she whispered after the breathless kiss ended.

  Despite his half-hearted protests that he wasn’t interested in the least with helping finish painting the barn, Janos was quickly put to work with a paintbrush.

  Lucas had a hard time turning Joy loose, but he let her go so she could greet Sam, Katie, and the children. He reluctantly climbed back up the ladder to finish the last of the eaves. “Thanks for helping get her here,” he said as he hovered over Janos’s head.

  Janos shrugged as he haphazardly applied paint on the barn’s wall. “She was miserable. She doesn’t sleep much, just wanders around Gypsy looking like she’s about to collapse. Doesn’t eat much, either.” Janos grunted an acerbic chuckle. “I’m not sure I’m really doing either of you a favor helping you get together.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Staring up at Lucas, Janos sighed. “You’re both just postponing the inevitable, you know. My father will never allow you two to be a couple.”

  Having held out some hope that Bela would eventually change his mind, Lucas had a hard time listening to Janos’s chilly pronouncement. “You don’t know that,” Lucas said, angrily slopping some paint on the wood. “He could still come around.”

  Janos’s snorting laugh didn’t help Lucas’s peace of mind. “You don’t know my father.”

  Joy found a cozy spot in the sunshine, feeling like it had been years since she last enjoyed any freedom. Dragging a sketchbook out of her bag, she fished around trying to find a charcoal pencil. Today represented liberation, and she vowed to make each and every minute count. She would draw and laugh and eat and simply enjoy herself.

  Casting aside her worries, she sat down on some soft grass, folded her legs Indian-style, and began to sketch the men as they worked. Trying to capture all of her mental snapshots before they faded, she quickly drew Lucas as he stretched to paint a spot above his head that was almost too far for him to reach. She sketched Seth as he playfully scrawled his initials across the bare wood before covering his graffiti with red paint. And she captured Brian’s face as he turned to glare up at Lucas for dripping paint into his hair.

  God, she loved it here. She loved this old house and loved the company of friends. But she loved Lucas most of all. The sadness of their circumstances was smothering her and stealing away all her energy and appetite. Why was her father so unreasonable? Couldn’t he see that love was a precious gift no matter who you found it with?

  Lost in her melancholy thoughts, Joy startled when Katie plopped down next to her in the grass. The little red-headed boy Katie held in her arms smiled at Joy. She put her pad and pencil aside. “This is Reed,” Katie said as Joy smiled at the boy, clapped her hands, and held them out to take the child from Katie.

  “Hello, Reed. You’re a handsome little devil,” Joy said as she settled him in her lap. She couldn’t resist tousling that gorgeous, curly red hair of his.

  Katie chuckled. “Just like his father. Put Seth’s face with my hair and temper, you get Reed. God help whoever falls in love with him someday.”

  Joy smiled at Reed even as she felt an uncharacteristic flare of envy. This was all she ever wanted, all she could ever need. Lucas, their home, and a happy, healthy child. A family that wasn’t solely dedicated to running a restaurant and preserving the past. A family full of love. A shiver of hurt ran through as she wondered if any of those things she wanted so desperately would ever truly be hers.

  Her gypsy heart spoke to her and told her not to abandon hope. Hold tight to your dreams, Jozsa. She almost looked around as the voice of her grandmother whispered to her in the wind. The same voice, she now realized, that had called to her the first time she saw Lucas. Good things come to those who wait.

  “I need to get him out of the sun or his skin will be the same color as his hair,” Katie said with a warm smile as she got to her feet. Reed reached for her, and Joy passed the boy back to his mother’s arms. “Why don’t you come help Sam and me with the food? The guys are gonna be getting hungry. Oh, crap.” Katie balanced Reed on her hip and pointed at a truck parked next to Joy’s car. Seth was dragging an enormous charcoal grill from the truck’s bed. “I better go find the fire extinguisher. I hope you like your meat blackened, because it’s the only way Seth knows how to cook it.”

  Joy watched Seth and Janos lifting the grill from the truck and knew her brother was issuing a challenge. She hoped Seth would bring the heat. “I’d be glad to help with the food,” she replied as she got to her feet. “I work in a restaurant, remember? It’s what I do best.”

  “I heard you paint best,” Katie commented as she led the way back toward the house.

  “Okay. Food is...second best.”

  Joy followed Katie into the kitchen and was shocked to see the cabinets had been stripped of the horrid avocado paint. The fingerprint-patterned grain of the bare wood was even more beautiful than she had imagined. Another wall bore large stripes of different hues of paint ranging from a warm peach to a way too overpowering orange. Joy walked over to judge them. She felt Lucas standing behind her before she saw him.

  Lucas wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. Breathing in the wildflower scent he loved, he again silently wished the rest of his guests would kindly go away. This time belonged to Joy. His attention was squandered on anyone else. With a frustrated sigh, he reminded himself that he was supposed to be acting gentlemanly around her, not like some horny teenager. But, damn it all if simply having her so close wasn’t enough to make all his noble notions vanish like a magician’s rabbit. “Which one do you like best? You said the kitchen should be peach.”

  He loved that Joy leaned back, pressing that perfect backside against him. Stroking her fingers over his encircling arms and humming a sound that reminded him of one of her cat’s purring, she considered the samples. “Hmm. Let me see.”

  Lucas was content to simply stand there with her in his arms for as long as it took her to decide. Or for an eternity. Whichever was longer.

  “This one,” she finally replied as she pointed to the one he had been inclined to choose himself.

  “Amazing,” he whispered as he rubbed his chin on her head. “You’re amazing. Come on.” Lucas released her from his embrace but folded his fingers around her tiny hand. “I want to show you something else.”

  He led a compliant Joy to the foyer. Patches of different hues of wine-colored paint covered a small section of one wall. “You were right. I wanted wine. Which one’s best?”

  Joy smiled up at him with that knowing gypsy grin. “You already picked the first one on the left.”

  Lucas wanted to laugh at her perception, but for the first time since she had arrived, he had time to study her face. Hollow eyes stared at him from a face that seemed drawn even though there was a smile on her lips. She looked tired. “How are you feeling, Sweetheart?” He wondered if his own face held the same haunted expression. Was she weary of the battle they had been fighting with her family? Or was she weary of his constant, probably too constant, visits to Gypsy?

 
Before he could stop it, his heart seized in panic. “It’s not me, is it? You’re not tired of me bugging you all the time, are you?”

  Wide-eyed, she stared back at him. “Are you kidding me?”

  Lucas was sure his relief was palpable. “I just thought...maybe I was wearing you down more than your father. I mean, you look kind of—”

  “Tired. I know. I’m tired. But not of you.” Joy gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Stop worrying, Szivem.”

  “You’ve been working an awful lot.” He led her toward the stairs. “Want to go up and see the new floor?” Lucas immediately wished he hadn’t tendered the invitation. If he and Joy were alone in his bedroom, he knew exactly what would happen. Guests or no guests, he’d throw her on the bed and...

  “Jozsa?” Janos called from the kitchen, breaking Lucas’s wayward chain of thoughts.

  “In here, Janos,” Joy called back from the foyer.

  “Will you be mad if I take off for a little bit?” Janos asked, joining them near the front door.

  “No. But where are you going?” she asked as she leaned against Lucas, resting her temple against his upper arm. Then she yawned.

  “I wanted to... I was going to...” He couldn’t seem to finish the thought, and Lucas wondered what was bothering Janos so much that he wouldn’t tell his sister where he was heading. “I’m going to the recruitment office,” Janos mumbled just loud enough for them to hear.

  Lucas’s radar sent off warning alarms. “Recruitment? You’re thinking of joining the Army, Janos?”

  Janos nodded but didn’t explain. But Lucas didn’t need an explanation, didn’t really care what motivated the man. He was going to put a stop to this. Now. “You’ve lost your mind.”

  Janos narrowed his eyes. “I don’t see why you’d say that.”

  “Because they’ll send your fool ass to Iraq,” Lucas replied before he could censor himself and soften the message. It was hard to be diplomatic about the Army when he remembered the empty promises the recruiter had made, when he remembered the wide-eyed boy he had been four years ago listening to stories of traveling the world.

 

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