Thorns (The LeBlanc Family #1)

by Bella Scott

  A hundred explanations flooded Rose’s mind, and she cycled through them, desperate to find something to say that didn’t sound absurd. But she could only force out one word.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Five

  Luke stared at her. Her cheeks were scarlet, her expression was flustered, and her eyes were red, as though she’d recently been crying. Part of him hated to push her, right now. She was clearly upset, and he’d always hated seeing her in pain. But her admission had twisted something within him, and he hadn’t yet managed to unclench his fists. Rage pulsed through him with each heartbeat. How could she have kept this from him? How could she be having Alex’s child and hiding it? Luke wanted to scream, to storm out and refuse to hear any explanation she might attempt to offer. His feet, however, refused to move.

  And another part of him was focused on a separate problem—how much he wanted her. Rose had shifted when he’d entered, evidently trying to make her shirt stretch enough to cover her ass, but she hadn’t been entirely successful. He could still see its curve and her long, smooth legs, and he could tell that she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath her shirt. He wanted to have those legs wrapped around him, to rip away the shirt and feel her skin against his, like he had the night before. He knew he’d made a mistake by letting her into his bedroom. Now, he couldn’t get enough of her. She was like a drug he’d thought he’d kicked only to realize he was still just as addicted as ever.

  He couldn’t give in to these desires. Not right now. He was furious with her, and besides, his sister was in the room.

  “Lenore, I don’t think now is the best time to be here,” Luke said as calmly as he could.

  “You really think I’m leaving after that bombshell?”

  Luke rolled his eyes. Of course his sister wasn’t going to make it easy. She was still frowning, glancing between the two of them, and Rose wouldn’t meet his eyes. Her own were unfocused, her pancakes abandoned on the breakfast bar.

  “I need to speak with Rose,” Luke pressed. His voice was low, and he hadn’t completely managed to keep the edge from it.

  “I think she’d feel better with me here.”

  Rose gave a stiff half-nod at Lenore’s words, and Luke sighed. He didn’t know how long his sister had been here or what had been said between the two women, but he couldn’t imagine it had been enough to make up for how distressed Lenore had been by Rose’s lack of communication with her over the past four years. Yet here they were, ganging up on him again already, just like no time had passed.

  “Fine,” he snapped. He moved into the kitchen, pausing a few strides away from where the two of them sat. “Explain.” He folded his arms and stared at Rose, willing her to stop refusing to look at him.

  “Everything I told you was true,” she began. She kept her focus on the floor. “I realized I don’t want to spend my life with Alex. He’s a good person, but he’s… he’s not right for me. The only one I want to be with is you.” She looked at Luke at last. Her blue eyes were earnest, and at the sight of the regret and sadness in them, the urge to take her in his arms swept over him. “I never stopped loving you. I ran because I was scared.”

  “Were you scared of me?”

  The words were out before Luke could think better of them, and he regretted them immediately. He didn’t want the answer.

  “That night,” Rose said after a pause the length of a heartbeat, “yes.”

  Luke’s fists clenched tighter, and he gritted his teeth. Since she’d left, he’d been certain that was why he had lost her. The night he’d fought Calvin and Lorenzo after they had attacked her, he’d seen a part of himself he’d since tried to bury. He’d wanted to pretend it had never happened. But despite what he had done to the two of them, one truth remained.

  “I could never hurt you,” he said. His voice came out so quietly he wasn’t completely convinced he’d spoken. He’d counted on her to realize that the night he’d lost her, but she’d never given him a straight answer.

  “I know that,” said Rose, and the smallest bit of relief passed through him. “But that was the only time in my life that I… couldn’t recognize you. I was so in love with you, Luke, but seeing you like that terrified me. I was afraid that you’d changed. That the you I loved was going to become someone else instead.”

  “I didn’t change,” he said with a small shake of his head. “I snapped because of what they did to you. That doesn’t make me a different person.”

  “I know that now. But in that moment, I was scared. And I was already a mess with everything going on with the baby, and—”

  “Baby?”

  Luke looked to Lenore, whose mouth had fallen open.

  “I had just lost the baby,” Rose pressed on, “and—”

  “Wait, his?” Lenore pointed to Luke.

  “Yes, Lenny,” said Rose, her frustration clear in her tone, “and it was all too much. I made the wrong decision. I’m trying to make the right one now. Luke, you and I didn’t get the chance to raise our son. I want us to have—”

  “Son?” Luke’s throat had gone dry.

  “I didn’t know for sure, but I had a feeling. It was too early to tell, when I lost him.”

  Rose paused, and Luke supposed she was expecting another interruption. When none came and both Luke and Lenore just stared at her, she continued.

  “You’re the only one I want to raise a family with. I love you. I hope you can understand why I didn’t exactly want to open with this last night.”

  Silence followed her words. Yes, in theory, Luke understood that. He was glad that he was the only one she wanted to raise a family with, and he certainly felt the same way. He’d gone through a severe rough patch after losing her, a series of short-lived attempts at feeling something for someone else that had usually ended after one night, but she had never left his mind. His heart had always belonged to her, no matter how many times he’d tried to steal it back, to give it to someone else. No matter how much he hated himself for it, he’d never been able to imagine sharing his life with anyone but Rose.

  But he couldn’t tell her that. Not right now. He was too hurt and confused and agitated, and he felt used. He knew rationally that that wasn’t what she was doing, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy with her at the moment.

  “I need to… process,” he said at last.

  “That’s fair,” Rose said quietly.

  “If the two of you will excuse me.” Luke turned on his heel and strode out of the room. He walked down the hall and turned right at the third door, into the lounge. The fireplace was dormant, and the green leather armchairs and sofas were welcoming, as was the bar at one end of the room. It wasn’t even eleven in the morning yet, and Luke knew he shouldn’t be considering alcohol this early. He could hear his father’s voice at the back of his mind telling him that he needed to lay off the bourbon. His father was probably right, but sometimes, Luke needed something to take the edge off of the stress. His law career was demanding enough on its own, not counting the derisive looks he still sometimes received from judges and the opposing counsel. He’d spent three of the four years since Rose had left working on his Juris Doctor degree and all of them trying to prove that he was more than the son of a senator and a surgeon. He wanted people to know that he was capable on his own and that he was good at his job as an assistant state’s attorney. He planned to run for the head of his office at some point, but he’d heard enough whispers about that damned night back in his last year of undergrad to know his colleagues weren’t ready to respect him enough for that.

  He moved to the bar and poured himself a glass of bourbon, and then he made his way over to the armchair beside the fireplace and sat. With a sigh, he lowered his head into his hand.

  I’m not going to pretend I don’t want this with her. But now? People already look at me like I shouldn’t be in my office. One mistake and they act like I’m an embarrassment who only got the job because of Mom. What happens if this gets out, too? That the child isn’t mine?
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br />   He took a long drink from his glass and savored the burning of his throat. It was a distraction, at least.

  “Luke, it’s not even noon.”

  He didn’t look up at the sound of his sister’s judgmental tone. He shrugged. “Five o’clock somewhere, and all that.”

  He heard the click of Lenore’s shoes as she moved closer, and she entered his line of vision when she dropped into the chair across from him. She watched him expectantly.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Do you really have to ask?”

  “What would you do, if you were me?”

  Lenore was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. She really wants this to work with you. She loves you. Do you still love her?”

  Luke’s grip on his glass tightened. He didn’t want to lie to his sister, but he also didn’t want to accept the feelings that had been clouding his mind and heart since Rose had turned up at his front door. He wanted nothing more than to let her stay, to pick up where they’d left off four years earlier. But what if she was hiding something else from him? Something somehow worse than the things she’d already told him? Would he ever be able to trust her fully, when she’d left him alone after one stupid mistake?

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” said Lenore after a few beats of silence. “I’m not asking you to pretend everything is perfect, or that she didn’t hurt you. But I know she wants to make things right with you, and I know you want to be with her, whether you’re too stubborn to admit it or not.”

  Luke squared his shoulders and took another drink.

  “What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Lenore prodded.

  “She could destroy me again.”

  Lenore chewed her lip. “Is that a chance you’re willing to take?”

  Luke stared into the fireplace. If he didn’t take the chance, he knew he might not get another one.

  Chapter Six

  Rose finished her pancakes with considerably less enthusiasm than she’d started them with. Luke’s anger with her had turned the food’s taste from perfection to something strange, something she shouldn’t be eating. She’d already felt bad enough about coming here. Just when she’d been starting to get comfortable, of course things had taken a downward turn.

  I don’t know what I expected. I was going to tell him as soon as I figured out how to say it. But how did he find out? Was he just guessing? Bluffing? No… he was already upset when he got here. He had to have known.

  She slid to her feet and carried her empty plate and fork to the sink, running water over them before putting them into the dishwasher. She wanted to start it, to do something to help out after Luke had worked so hard on the food, but there were no other dishes in the washer, so she decided she should probably ask him before wasting the cycle on one plate and fork.

  She didn’t know what to do with herself. Lenore had told her she’d sent her a text before she’d left so that Rose could have her new phone number, but Rose’s phone was still where she’d left it the night before—in the glove compartment of her car. She had no desire to see how many missed calls and texts she had from Alex, her parents, and whoever else had heard what was going on. Even her sister probably knew by now. She knew checking her phone would only make her feel worse, and she wasn’t sure she could handle that, at the moment.

  She wanted to go find Luke. To keep apologizing until he believed how much she meant it. To beg him to forgive her for withholding information and for leaving in the first place. She doubted he’d want to see her. He’d stormed off without an explanation, and though Rose knew she’d deserved that, it had still killed her.

  Still, she had to try.

  She straightened her shirt and found herself wishing she’d put on her jeans before coming downstairs. When Luke already didn’t want to see her, she couldn’t imagine seeing her dressed like this would help the situation. Rolling her shoulders backward, she left the kitchen and started down the hall. As she walked, she admired the paintings and family portraits lining the walls—Senator LeBlanc had always had a good decorative eye; as an interior designer, Rose appreciated that—and when she passed the doorway to the lounge, she saw Luke seated within, a nearly empty glass in his hand.

  Rose sucked in a breath and entered the room. “I know you probably want to be alone right now, but could I talk with you for just a minute?”

  Luke’s gaze shifted slowly, his eyes sweeping up her body on their way to meet hers. The warmth of desire rushed through her.

  “Yes?” Luke asked.

  “I was going to tell you. I wanted to wait until I figured out a way to put it into words that didn’t sound completely…”

  “Absurd?” he offered. “Like something I couldn’t have made up if I tried?”

  “Yes.” Rose’s voice came out hard and flat. She knew she deserved his scathing tone, but she was already growing tired of it. How could he even begin to know what she was going through? He’d never had that heart-stopping moment when the second line had formed on the pregnancy test and everything in the world had suddenly slipped out of focus and back into it at once. He’d never had to question what was best for a child he carried, to question whether he could handle eighteen or more years with the person he was with that would be spent wishing that person were someone else. She knew she’d made bad choices, and life had punished her for them. How long was she going to be punished for making what she’d thought would be the best decision for herself and for her child?

  “I don’t know if there’s any way you could’ve phrased it that would’ve made it easier to handle,” said Luke, shaking his head.

  “I’m sure you’re right. And I’m sorry for that. What do you want me to do? What can I do to make things right?”

  Luke looked down into his glass, swirling around the liquid inside. “I don’t know.”

  “How long are you going to stay mad before you’ll actually talk to me about this?”

  “I don’t know,” he said again, and she let out a frustrated sigh.

  “Perfect.”

  Rose turned away and stared at the bar, wishing she’d had the foresight to drink a little more before she’d gotten pregnant. To prepare for the months of not being able to have a drink to take the edge off of her stress. She’d never handled alcohol very well, anyway, which she was sure he remembered.

  She moved for the bar, planning to sit on one of the stools and refuse to leave until he talked to her, but before she reached it, Luke was on his feet and in her path.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting a drink,” she said flatly, rolling her eyes. “Or is that only okay before noon when you do it?”

  “I know how to handle my liquor, Rose. You don’t. You’re also pregnant.”

  “Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.” She brushed past him. “For your information, I was actually just going to sit—”

  When his fingers closed around her wrist, she froze as electricity crackled up her arm from the point of contact. She whipped around to face him, staring up into those emerald eyes that set her on fire every time she looked at them.

  “Are you worried about me all of a sudden?” she breathed. She was frowning, but her voice wouldn’t obey her command to stay angry.

  “I’m always worried about you,” Luke growled. “If you recall, that’s what made you leave me. I took my fear for you a bit too far.”

  An image of Luke’s fist crashing into every available inch of Calvin’s body flickered through Rose’s mind, and she shoved it away.

  “Are you sure it wasn’t your pride you were protecting?” The words tasted wrong on Rose’s tongue, like spoiled food, and she opened her mouth to take them back. Before she could, though, his hands were on her hips and he was backing her against the cool, black marble surface of the bar.

  “You know better,” he muttered. “You know I would’ve done anything for you. Anything.”

  “I…” Rose swallowed. The hard edge his gaze had taken on no longer resembled anger. He was watching h
er like a lion about to devour a gazelle, and she clutched the bar to hold herself steady at the sight. She stared at him, her body aching to have him closer. “I know.”

  All at once, Luke leaned down and captured her lips. His kiss was forceful, demanding, like he’d been as desperate for her as she had been for him and had finally chosen to give in. He lifted her from her feet and set her on the edge of the bar, and she shivered as the cold marble met the skin of her thighs. She locked her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and she pressed her hips as tight against his as she could. She was already aching for his touch, and she would settle for whatever friction she could manage.

  His hands tightened on her hips as he groaned, and she felt him starting to harden through her thin underwear and his slacks. Slowly, he relaxed his grip on one of her hips and dragged his fingertips along the top of her thigh, raising goosebumps in their path. As they drew nearer to the source of her aching, she squeezed his shoulder, and when his fingertips grazed her clit through her panties, her nails dug in. Luke let out a soft hiss against her lips and began to rub smooth, slow circles.

  Rose’s head tipped backward as a low moan escaped her mouth, and Luke kissed along her jaw as his pace quickened gradually along with the pressure of his touch. She rocked toward his hand, trying not to slide too far and jeopardize her precarious position on the bar, but she reminded herself that he still had a firm grip on her hip and that he would never let her fall.

  The pressure within her built far more quickly than she’d anticipated. Her body had missed his touch, had craved it, and now her senses were on overload. As his fingers rubbed her rapidly, she felt her control beginning to shatter. Her breath hitched, and then, with a low and satisfied groan, she felt the heat within her burst as pleasure rolled through her. Her grip on his shoulder tightened and then slacked, and he let out a low chuckle against her neck. A shiver swept up her spine at the brush of his warm breath on her skin.