Thorns (The LeBlanc Family #1)

by Bella Scott

  ***

  Luke sighed as he climbed the stairs, one of the two black cardboard boxes his mother had had delivered in his arms. She’d never been one to do anything halfway.

  She could’ve mentioned it was a masquerade. We probably would’ve had time to go pick something out ourselves…

  He paused outside the door to Rose’s room. It still felt strange to think that she had her own area and he had his. She was like a housemate who shared his bed now and then, and he was eager to get past this strange phase of their relationship. The longer he spent in her presence, the readier he became to have things return to how they’d been before he’d lost her. To go back to planning their life together. But he reminded himself that he needed to take one step at a time and that right now, the priority was for everyone to make it through his mother’s party in one piece.

  He knocked on the heavy wooden door.

  “Come in,” Rose called from within.

  Luke shifted the bulky box somewhat uncomfortably and managed to turn the doorknob. He nudged the door open with his foot, and as soon as he entered, he froze.

  She wore a floor-length red dress that hugged her hips, and the neckline plunged low enough to show just a bit of cleavage. Just enough to make Luke’s grip tighten on the box he held as he forced his thoughts to move elsewhere. Now wasn’t the time to let himself think about how absolutely exquisite she was. He’d taken her home to retrieve more of her clothes and personal items shortly after his mother had left, and thankfully, Alex hadn’t been around. But Luke hadn’t seen much of what Rose had retrieved until now.

  That dress was certainly a good choice. The same color as the corset from last night…

  “Well, that answers what I was going to ask,” he said with a smirk. He moved closer and laid the box at the foot of the bed before removing the lid to reveal an array of masks in a rainbow of colors. Blue, green, black, white, yellow, purple, orange, red. The red mask was covered in small jewels and little satin flowers. Luke lifted it from the tissue paper lining the box and passed it to Rose, who stared at it.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. Mom left this part out when she told me about the party. But she had these sent over, along with a matching set for me.”

  Rose smiled. Luke’s heart missed a beat at the sight.

  “Do you have a tie that matches?” she asked. “I can put on something else, if—”

  “Don’t you dare.” He chuckled and leaned close to kiss her cheek. “Red is your color.”

  She turned to face him and slid her arms around his neck, and his hand moved on reflex to her waist. As she leaned up to meet his lips, he closed his eyes and savored the vanilla-cinnamon scent he knew had to be her perfume as he kissed her tenderly. After a few moments, he pulled back to rest his forehead against hers with a sigh.

  “Do we have to go?” he muttered.

  “Yes, we do.” She kissed him once more, and her lips turned upward in a mischievous smile. “But we’ll have time to be alone after the party.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Rose’s heart was pounding so quickly that she was becoming lightheaded. She held onto Luke’s arm as tightly as she could without making it obvious that she was looking for support. She’d been confident enough back at the house that everything would be fine, but actually being here had set her on edge again.

  They had just entered the ballroom at an extravagant hotel in downtown Chicago—he’d told her the name at least twice, but she’d been too nervous to pay attention—and all around them were clusters of people in suits and expensive-looking gowns and masks of all hues.

  Rose couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so out of place.

  She’d been raised with a decent amount of money; her mother was a doctor and her father was a pharmacist, so they’d been disappointed not only when she’d gravitated toward the arts instead of science or medicine all through school, but also when they had realized that she’d wanted to become an interior designer and had definitively decided not to follow either of their paths. She’d done well for herself, and she’d been living more than comfortably with money to spare, paying for half of everything she’d shared with Alex before she’d left home a few days earlier.

  But the people here had political money. She could see it in the diamonds glittering on the women’s fingers, wrists, and necks and in the expensive watches the men wore. She could see it in their smiles—like they were so far above the typical citizen that they were untouchable.

  Rose felt a rush of admiration for Luke. He’d grown up around all of this, but he’d never treated her like he was any different from her, even when they’d met back in college.

  She squeezed his arm, and he turned his head to give her that smoldering half-smile that sent heat straight through her. She smiled back at him and followed him across the white marble floor, which was swirled with gold and black so that it looked like the guests were walking over constellations. Blue banners that read “Re-Elect LeBlanc for Senate” hung from the walls, and red, white, and blue balloons were clustered in the room’s corners and between the immense windows and the doors that led out onto the balcony.

  Senator LeBlanc herself wore a long-sleeved navy gown that shimmered in the light of the chandeliers overhead, and her face was half-covered by a matching mask that stopped just below her cheekbones. She was deep in conversation with a group of people near the back of the room, and Rose averted her eyes before Luke’s mother could recognize her with him.

  “Luke!”

  Rose’s heart leapt into her throat, and she followed Luke as he turned toward a man wearing a green tie and a black mask. The man was grinning, and Luke released Rose’s arm just long enough to return his enthusiastic embrace before reaching for her again.

  “Thanks for the invite,” said the man, whom Rose didn’t recognize.

  “I figured it was a good way to get your office a few more high-paying clients,” said Luke with a nod. “You never know when this crowd will need a defense attorney.”

  The man chuckled and clapped Luke on the shoulder before disappearing into the throng again.

  “Bryan from work,” Luke whispered into Rose’s ear. A light shiver passed over her at the touch of his warm breath, and she nodded. “We fight on opposite sides, but he’s a good guy.”

  “It’s nice of you to help him,” said Rose quietly.

  He smiled at her, and they made their way toward the long, glass hors d’oeuvre table. A four-tiered chocolate fountain rested at its heart, and strawberries, cherries, grapes, orange slices, and pieces of cantaloupe and pineapple covered individual plates beside it. There was a tray of triangular half-sandwiches that looked like they contained any variety of meat one might want, and plates of sliced tomatoes and lettuce and pickles and assorted cheeses were lined up beside them.

  “Your mom really covered all her bases,” Rose muttered.

  “She’s a people-pleaser. Always wants to make sure there are options for everyone. Is there anything you’d like?”

  “Honestly, just a drink. Too bad I can’t have one.” She let out a quiet laugh, and Luke squeezed her arm lightly.

  “I know she always has sparkling juice, since you’re avoiding wine. Do you want a glass?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He leaned in close and kissed her jaw. “I’ll be right back.”

  She nodded again and watched as he crossed the room, squeezing between clumps of people as he moved toward the drink table, and she found herself suddenly aware of how crowded the room was. There were easily hundreds of people, from the dance floor at the room’s heart—where spotlights drew attention to a handful of couples who had already started gliding along to the soft, lilting waltz the string quartet played from beside one of the large windows—to the tables spread out along the room’s perimeter to everyone who stood away from them, offering pleasantries and huge smiles.

  This was a bad idea. Someone’s bound to realize I don’t belong here.


  Rose backed toward the hors d’oeuvre table, and when she bumped into someone, her cheeks burned red-hot.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said quickly, turning to face whoever’s personal space she’d violated.

  She froze.

  Even beneath the thin, silver metal mask he wore, she knew it was Wyatt Kane, one of Luke’s best friends. His hair was light brown and cut short, and his hazel eyes lit up behind his mask.

  “Wyatt?” she blurted.

  “I’ll be damned,” he said. “Where have you been?”

  He embraced her, and she returned the gesture, holding on as long as she believed was polite. There was so much she wanted to say but couldn’t find a way to explain. Wyatt had been part of the group Rose had spent quite a bit of time with in college, along with Luke, Alex, Lenore, and Rhys, who was probably around here somewhere, too.

  Wyatt would’ve been Luke’s best man, if they had gone through with the wedding.

  “Oh, you know,” she said as she pulled back, her cheeks still burning. “Around.”

  “Are you here with Alex?” Wyatt asked, glancing behind her. His eyes widened, his eyebrows lifting as he took on a suddenly hopeful expression. “Did he and Luke finally work things out? God, I’ve missed you guys.”

  “Well… not exactly. I’m actually here with Luke.”

  Wyatt blinked. A heartbeat passed in silence, and then he nodded and gave her shoulder a warm squeeze. “Even better,” he said. “You know I always thought you two were perfect together.”

  Rose let out a sigh, and the tension coiling her muscles began to ease. If Wyatt could this easily forgive her for ruining everything, maybe there really was hope that things could return to the way they had been before she and Luke had separated. She’d allowed herself to hope as much since they had admitted they still loved one another. Now she just had to win his parents’ approval back. And then there were her parents, and Alex…

  “Thank you,” she told Wyatt, forcing herself to focus on the present. “That really means a lot to me.”

  “I’m just glad you’re back. We all missed you, and I bet Luke is absolutely thrilled. Have you talked to Kennedy yet?”

  Rose blinked. “No. She doesn’t know I’m—”

  “I’ll go get her. She’s going to be so happy.”

  He smiled at her once more and slipped off toward Senator LeBlanc. Rose let out a little distressed sound and rubbed at her temple.

  This is going to be a disaster.

  At the feeling of a light touch on her arm, she looked up to find that Luke had returned with two champagne flutes filled with pale, bubbly liquid. He passed one to her, and she thanked him and took a sip. The taste of white grapes and the fizz of carbonation filled her mouth.

  “Was that Wyatt?” he asked, looking in the direction his friend had gone. He lifted his own flute to his lips.

  “Yes. He’s going to get your mother.”

  Luke choked on his drink. “Shit,” he muttered as he lowered it. “I thought we could avoid drawing her attention for a little bit longer.”

  “She’s going to hate me, Luke. Maybe I should just go home.”

  He took her arm and spun her around gently to face him, looking into her eyes. His own were filled with warmth, and their green stood out against the red of his mask.

  “She could never hate you,” he said. “I promise.”

  She could if she knew the whole story, Rose thought, but she kept this to herself and took another drink. Naturally I’m pregnant at the most ridiculously stressful time of my life. What I wouldn’t give for a big glass of wine right about now.

  “Wyatt was glad to see me,” she said instead.

  Luke smiled. “I’m sure. He hasn’t made a secret of wishing things had gone differently.” As soon as he’d spoken, he seemed to regret the words. He looked down at the glass in his hand and sighed. “But we have another chance,” he continued with renewed conviction, returning his focus to her face.

  A beat of silence passed between them.

  “Is that what you want?” Rose asked.

  “It is. If it’s what you want, too, I mean. You being there at the house… it’s like I got a do-over. Like these last few years never happened. I’ve wanted for all this time to just get a chance to talk to you again, and the last few days have been way more than I could’ve dreamed of asking for.”

  Tears stung Rose’s eyes, and she blinked them back. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, careful not to jostle either of their drinks.

  “Yes, I want us to have another chance,” she breathed. “You’re all I want, Luke.”

  “Ah, there they are!” called Wyatt.

  Rose’s stomach lurched. She pulled back to see that Wyatt had returned with not only Luke’s mother but his sister, as well. Lenore smiled brightly as her eyes met Rose’s, and Wyatt was still beaming. The senator, on the other hand, stared at them, her mouth hanging open just slightly.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. Her voice was soft and polite, as though she were asking someone to repeat a simple statement instead of trying to figure out what her son’s ex-fiancée was doing at her fundraiser. Her eyes swept over Rose’s gown and drifted to Luke’s matching tie, and Rose knew Senator LeBlanc had to have put it together.

  “I’m so glad you could make it,” said Lenore, leaning close to hug her brother. “Both of you.” She hugged Rose next, and she held on tightly, clearly trying to be reassuring. She wore a gold dress with a long, flowing skirt, and her matching mask covered her eyes and most of her left cheek.

  “Thank you,” Rose mumbled.

  “Luke! I told you he’d make it, Kennedy.”

  Rose followed the smooth, low voice to find that Luke’s father had arrived. He gave his son a one-armed hug and moved to stand beside his wife, taking her hand. He was grinning, and when his eyes touched on Rose’s, he tipped his head the slightest bit to the side.

  “I feel like I’ve missed something,” he said, “but it’s good to see you again, Rosie. We’ve asked Luke how you’ve been, but the last we heard, the two of you hadn’t talked in a while.”

  Rosie. Rose had always hated that nickname—Luke’s father was the only one who’d used it for her apart from her own parents, and the reminder of them wasn’t exactly one she welcomed. She nodded slowly, certain her cheeks had to be as red as her dress by now. Luke and his father resembled one another strongly, and though the elder LeBlanc’s face was more lined, he was still handsome. He’d always been kind to her, as had his wife, who still looked like she’d seen a ghost. They had been more like parents to her than her own had, while she and Luke had been together.

  “We’ve reconnected,” said Luke, saving her from having to explain. “I was going to tell all of you, but it’s incredibly recent. Mom insisted I come to the party and bring the woman I’m seeing, so… here we are.”

  “Here you are,” Senator LeBlanc repeated. She reached out and squeezed Rose’s hand. “It’s wonderful to see you. I’m glad you could make it.”

  ***

  As she followed Luke out of the hotel, his arm around her waist and her head against his shoulder, Rose felt like she was walking on air. She’d gone into the party expecting to be rejected by his family, and while things had still felt awkward, she’d had conversations with each of his parents as the evening had progressed, and she felt like the entire experience had been a huge step toward moving past everything she and Luke had been through. It’s too good to be true, she thought.

  “Thanks for bringing me,” she said as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

  He smiled and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, a series of camera flashes blinded Rose. She threw up her hand to shield her eyes and squinted through the sudden brightness, struggling to see what was happening.

  A group of men and women wearing black had converged on them, cameras in their hands. Before Rose could pull together a coherent thought, the photographers began shouting questions at the two of them.
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br />   “Mr. LeBlanc, is this your ex-fiancée?”

  “Is this the same woman who left you after your assault charges?”

  “Does the senator approve?”

  “Rose, what really happened that night at the bar?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Luke growled. He glared straight ahead and walked faster, and his grip on Rose tightened. His car was just across the street—his mother had managed to get a spot reserved for him—but between the late-night traffic and the paparazzi, who refused to move from their path, Rose knew it was going to be a challenge to reach the parking space.

  “Miss Mercer, the records we’ve found have you living with a Mr. Alex Castle. Is he aware that you’re here with Mr. LeBlanc?”

  “That’s none of your business,” said Luke coldly.

  Rose glanced up at him. His jaw was clenched. His fingers dug into her side, and she felt him trembling faintly.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Just ignore them. Please.”

  The pair reached the crosswalk, and Rose stared past the flashing cameras and intervening bodies at the orange “DON’T WALK” sign across the street, mentally begging it to change.

  “You were avoiding alcohol tonight. Is that because of a pregnancy?”

  The paparazzi’s voices grew into shouts, and the flashes sped up, not even a second remaining between them. Rose’s eyes stung with tears, and she held onto Luke as the light mercifully changed and they started to cross the street.

  How do they know? she wanted to ask. We were so careful. Were they inside the building? But she knew Luke wouldn’t hear her if she whispered, and anything above that would be fair game for their camera-wielding pursuers.

  She didn’t realize she was shaking until she felt Luke’s lips against the top of her head, and he gave her a squeeze that was more reassuring than agitated. A few tears broke free at last, and she didn’t bother wiping them away. Her pulse roared in her ears, drowning out the shouts and flashes as she struggled to focus on the car. Luke’s ice-blue Miada was a safe haven, an island in the storm.