La Fleur de Love: The Series: Books 1 - 4

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La Fleur de Love: The Series: Books 1 - 4 Page 121

by Leger, Lori


  He grabbed her arm, stopping her retreat. “You’re not going until you’ve heard me out.”

  She glared at him. “What else can you say, but that you obviously don’t want me?”

  “Annie, for God’s sake. Look at me and tell me that.”

  Her left brow rose accusingly. “You don’t want me.”

  “Look. At. Me. Tell me I don’t want you.” He spoke sharply, taking one step backward.

  She finally caught his meaning, glanced down. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the front of his jeans. Her delicate mouth rounded in a silent “Oh.”

  “Yeah. So don’t you dare walk out of here sulking because you think I don’t want you. Not when the truth is, I’ve never wanted anyone—anyone—as badly as I want you right now.” He turned partially away from her. “This is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. But I’m doing it, and I’m doing it for us.” He felt her gaze on him, suspected she followed his every move.

  “What if there’s never any us?”

  Rounding on her again, he placed his hands on her shoulders. His deep bass dipped dangerously low as he stared into crystal blue eyes and spoke. “You can’t run fast enough or far enough from me, Annie Girl. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make damn sure there’s an us.”

  Annie blinked several times to clear the sleep from her eyes. Here it was, Sunday morning, and she was still shaky with residual effects of the previous day’s emotional roller coaster. She forced herself to get up and get moving.

  Several minutes later, she entered the kitchen. A platter of perfectly crisp bacon, soft scrambled eggs, and about the sexiest man alive greeted her at the kitchen table. Drake sat there, freshly shaven, his hair, still damp from a shower, curled enticingly at the ends. He wore a pair of grey jogging pants and a just snug enough black tee shirt.

  Drake looked up from the Sunday paper. “Hey, sleepyhead. You able to get some rest?”

  She nodded, heading straight for the coffee pot.

  He rose from the table and filled a plate with slices of bacon and scrambled eggs. “You want toast this morning?”

  Annie shook her head. She’d have a hard enough time swallowing her coffee. “Honestly, I don’t think I can eat anything just yet.” She turned from the coffee maker, her mug gripped tightly between two hands.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Somewhere in the vicinity of mortified and humiliated. “Just fine,” she lied, before curling up on one end of the hand me down leather sofa. She sat, tucked her feet under her then pulled an afghan up to her neck. She cupped both hands around her mug and sipped, while staring at the closed blinds of the window, resenting like hell the fact that she didn’t feel comfortable enough to open them. Thank goodness there was no lean toward claustrophobia in her DNA. The hem of Drake’s shirt came into view.

  “Annie, we need to talk.”

  “No, we don’t.”

  He leaned until he was eye level to her. “Yes, we do. I want to make sure you’re not nursing some kind of idiotic grudge against me for what happened yesterday.”

  “Nothing happened, and all I feel is thankful that it didn’t.”

  “Look, I know you were scared and feeling vulnerable, but I also know that we have this … connection.”

  “I had a moment of weakness, it won’t happen again.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  She stared stonily into his dark eyes. “Trust me, on this. You should have taken it when it was offered. I’m over it.” She couldn’t keep from commenting when he cocked his head to the side. “You know, you look remarkably like Lewis when you do that.”

  He sent her a smug grin. “I guess it was bound to happen, sooner or later. I’m not sure how you meant that, but I’m taking it as a compliment.”

  “It wasn’t meant as one.”

  “But Lewis is an extremely bright bird, aren’t you Lewis?” Drake called over his shoulder.

  “Drake’s the man! Brawck!” Lewis cried.

  “Extremely bright, for a bird,” she agreed. “And it would be a compliment, if you were a toddler.” She cocked her head to the side, mimicking Lewis. “Not so much for a man in his thirties.”

  He rested his hands loosely on his hips. “You want to do anything in particular today?”

  “Nope.”

  “You want to go shopping? We could go to the mall later.”

  “Nope.”

  “How about the movies? There’s probably some chick flick out that you’d want to sit through, right?”

  “Nope.”

  “Thriller? Action film?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

  “Nope, I’m staying here, but please feel free to go wherever you’d like. I’ll be fine here.”

  She made her best attempt to sound convincing, all the while holding her breath as she awaited his answer. Silently, she prayed he wouldn’t take her up on the offer. No matter how hard she tried to tell herself she was fine, she knew she wasn’t. The thought of him leaving her alone in this house terrified her nearly as much as the thought of being out there, where he could watch her, unobserved.

  “Not a chance, sweetheart. You can’t get rid of me that easily, no matter how much you’d like to.”

  Drake walked over to the coffee pot for another cup. He caught Martin gearing up to cheat on his diet again and called him out. “Martin! Don’t even think about it.”

  The oversized cat had been about to jump on the table for the bacon and eggs, but instead hunched down, giving him what looked like a disappointed stare.

  “Annie, if you don’t want to eat this right now, I’ll cover it, so he can’t get to it.”

  Annie rose from the sofa with a huff. “Christ, it’s almost like living with my parents, again.” She grabbed the plate and sat down at her computer before plugging in her earbuds.

  Drake smiled down at the top of her head, amused that she was trying to ignore him. After last night’s episode, he figured their temporary living arrangement would be strained under the best of circumstances. Damned near impossible under the worst. He went into his bedroom and threw on a pair of grey slacks and a long-sleeved black shirt. He re-entered the living room, watching as Annie sat, with eyes closed and swaying slightly to whatever song she listened to. Her tongue darted out to wet her parted lips, lips that curved upward on one side, in a hesitant smile. He inched forward, remaining out of her line of sight in case she opened her eyes. He inhaled sharply, seeing the title display showing the same Adele number they’d nearly had vertical sex to on the dance floor.

  “Annie,” he said, placing his hands softly on her shoulders.

  She turned suddenly, pulling the earplugs out, her eyes wide and registering three emotions nearly simultaneously. First, curiosity that turned into unconcealed terror as she studied his clothes, soon covered by a false bravado that made his heart ache for her.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I thought you might want to go to Sunday mass this morning.”

  She pasted an artificial smile on her face. “No, but I can tell you how to get to the church, if you want to go without me.”

  Drake lowered himself before her. “Listen, J.B. Montgomery is not going to be out there twenty-four hours a day, and even if he is, I won’t leave your side for a second.”

  She shook her head too quickly. “It’s not that,” she insisted. “I just don’t feel like going today. I miss sometimes.”

  Drake nodded, choosing to ignore her obvious lie. Any girl who carried a rosary in her pocket to church wasn’t going to feel comfortable with missing unless it was completely unavoidable. “Okay, then, if you’re sure.”

  Annie shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to me, Annie Girl. There’s no need.” He went into his room and changed into jeans and a Henley shirt. Annie’s gaze never left the computer screen when he pulled up a chair next to her.

  “What are you doing?”

  She pulled out one earpiece and seemed
to study his new attire. “I was downloading some music.”

  “What artist?” he asked curiously, as she showed him her playlist.

  “Country mostly. I’m a huge James Otto and Jake Owen fan, but I love so many. George Strait tops the list, of course.”

  Drake nodded. “King George—the man’s music is timeless. There are so many more good singers out there today and you haven’t even touched on any of the groups. I bet you don’t have any Pat Green. He hasn’t put anything out there in a while but I liked his stuff.”

  She released a low chuckle. “This is too easy. I should have made you put some money up.” She pulled up a list in her music library.

  Drake looked over her shoulder. “There it is.” He covered her right hand so he could manipulate the mouse. Within seconds, an older song called ‘Let Me’ started up. “That’s one of his best.” Music flowed through the high quality sound system. Drake straightened and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, dance with me.”

  He pulled her close and she gave him a hesitant reply. “I’m not dancing with you again … ever.” Her words resisted, but she didn’t seem all that eager to leave his embrace.

  Overcome with the ache to protect her, to comfort her, he lowered his head until their foreheads touched. “Tell me then, Annie, what do you want to do with me?” She shook her head slowly as he placed a hand on her waist to keep her close.

  She finally managed to speak, her voice tinged with irritability. “Let go, Drake. I told you before, I won’t dance with you again, and I meant it.”

  He clung tightly to her waist as he lowered his mouth to her ear. “Before I do, I’d like to speak to you about something extremely important.” Drake smiled as he felt her shiver in his arms.

  “What?”

  “A bed.”

  Annie pulled back and blinked once, twice, and again. “What?” she repeated, this time louder.

  Drake laughed at the confusion on her face. “My bed, in particular.”

  Her brow creased in a frown. “What about it?”

  He released her, satisfied for the moment that he’d peaked her curiosity. Even more pleased that she faltered when he released her. “It’s too short for me. For that matter, so is the one at my place. I was going to buy a new king size mattress set, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

  “How long have you been sleeping on a ‘too-short’ mattress?”

  “Since I moved into Tiffany’s old place—she had a few months left on her lease and I have six months left on mine in Houston, so I just moved my personal belongings over there until I decided what to do. Her bed is the same size as the one in your guest room.”

  “It seems like you could have brought yours over from Houston,” she commented.

  Drake shrugged and reached out to brush a stray curl away from Annie’s forehead. For some reason, he found it difficult to keep his hands off of her, today. “I didn’t want to go through the trouble just yet. Besides, I’ve had my mattress set for ten years and it needed replacing anyway. I want one like Red and Tiff’s with the memory foam.”

  Annie took a deep breath and pulled away from his touch. “Yeah, I have one of those. You’ll be very pleased.”

  “I’m counting on it.” He grinned at the irritated glare she shot him. “So, I was wondering if you’d mind if I bought a mattress set and had it delivered here. I may as well be comfortable for the duration, don’t you think?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Seems like a lot of trouble to go through, but I don’t see a problem with that, as long as you take it with you when you leave here.”

  “If I leave here.”

  “When you leave.”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “You never know. You might decide you like having me around and ask me to stay.”

  “It’s imperative I don’t.”

  “Imperative to what, or should I ask to whom?”

  She met his gaze. “You’re a major kink in my coil, Drake. You’re not in my plan. It’s nothing personal.”

  “Honey, regardless of what you say, it’s very personal. Before this is all over with it’ll get even more personal.” He reached out and softly grazed his thumb over her forehead and down the side of her face. “But, for now, I’d be happy with a new bed. You have two choices in the matter. You can come with me to shop for one or you can hear me bitch about it for the duration of my stay here.”

  “You can go without—”

  “No, I can’t.” He took a step closer, cupped her face in his hands. “I won’t leave you behind, Annie Girl. I’ll always be here to take care of you.”

  She swallowed hard, in an obvious attempt to calm herself. Finally, she released a long, shaky sigh. “Okay, as long as we’re leaving the house today, we may as well attend mass. I’ll get dressed.”

  Mass was nearly over, and Annie still hadn’t settled down. She tried paying attention to Father Mitch’s homily, but could feel herself fidgeting, inside and out. She tried to keep her gaze from darting around the interior of the church, but couldn’t keep from checking for anyone that looked remotely suspicious. She wondered if he was out there among the parishioners, watching, waiting for some kind of encounter.

  She sensed Drake’s gaze on her, glanced over to see that her instincts were right on the money. Those chocolaty orbs were zeroed in on her. His effect on her psyche baffled her, made her feel at the same time, both comforted and unsettled. Was that even possible?

  She caught a sudden chill and shivered, knowing immediately it wasn’t from the cold. The hair at the back of her neck tingled and stood on end, alerting her, to what? Danger? Or the fact that she was paranoid as hell? She wrapped her arms around herself then ran one hand nervously up and down the opposite arm. Drake reached over and put a protective arm around her shoulder. As much as she hated to admit it, his action helped.

  Mass ended and they met up with Jackson, Giselle, and their two girls at the front doors of the church.

  Giselle gave Annie a hug. “We’re going to lunch at the steakhouse. Y’all come with us.”

  Annie glanced from Giselle, just beginning to show a belly pooch from the twins she carried, to her two daughters, Mackenzie and Lexie. She glanced around, scanning the milling crowd of church attendees. “Thanks, but we’ll have to pass,” she said, avoiding Drake’s perusal.

  Annie turned sideways to let a group of four people edge past to get to the exit. A gentle scrape of something along her side and across her lower back had Annie tensing, spinning around to check out the four as they reached the exit. The men wore hooded jackets, but only one had his hood on. Both were built like brick houses. From the rear, either of them could have been J.B. Montgomery—or not. She relaxed, seeing that these two men seemed to be paired off with the women. J.B. wasn’t from around here so he’d be alone, obviously, and it was doubtful he’d be in church.

  The thought soothed and she shook it off, deciding it must have been one of the girl’s purses that had brushed up against her.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Drake’s inquiry caught her off-guard and she turned to face him. She gave him a half smile and shook her head, dismissing the non-incident as the product of an overactive imagination.

  Just outside the door, J.B. peeled away from the trio of people he’d used as covers, congratulating himself on copping a feel right under her boyfriend’s nose. In broad daylight, and in church. Grounds for braggin’ rights.

  It was almost as if she felt him there by the way she fidgeted and scanned the place, like a little lady fox sniffin’ out a hound dog on her tail. Her eyes had been everywhere—except where they shoulda been. But, she’d never spot him unless he wanted her to. He’d spent many a night hidin’ from his ol’ man to avoid ass whippins. The sumbitch always came home kick-ass-drunk and mean as Satan.

  J.B. watched them leave together in that pussified pimp mobile only a rich man would call a truck. “Shit. I bet it ain’t even got four-wheel drive. How the hell you gonna go mud hogging in that, bro?” He
gave his head a shake as he threw the black Dodge in gear, and pulled out. “I’m thinkin’ it’s about time to raise the game level, bubba. Let’s up the ante, some.” Alone in his truck, he chuckled at his accidental play on words. “Time to up the Annie all right …”

  “Oh man, this feels good. You’ve got to try this, Annie.” Drake released a low moan as he stretched out on the plush, king-size mattress set.

  “Don’t need to.” She didn’t bother to look up from a text she was reading. “I already told you I have one like that.”

  “Your bed’s too damn small.”

  She shrugged and threw her phone into her purse. “It’s just right for me and Martin.”

  He rolled on his side and propped his head on his elbow. “But there’s no room for me.”

  Annie sent him, yet another, impatient glare. “You must be exhausted.”

  Drake sat up. “Why do you say that?”

  “From lugging around that big old ego of yours.”

  Drake rolled off the bed and re-tucked his shirt. “You must have been too busy looking for J.D. in church to pay attention to Father Mitch’s homily. It was all about having faith and trusting God to do what’s best for you.” He reached out and tweaked her chin. “As it happens he and I talk on a regular basis now and—”

  “You and Father Mitch?”

  “Me and God, Annie. He’s sent me several signs, letting me know not to give up on you.”

  “Are they delivered by Bill Engvall during a comedy skit? There’s your sign!”

  He grinned at her. “Who’s talking sacrilege, now? I’m telling Mom.”

  “Save it, Drake. You might have my mom fooled, but not me.” She walked away from him.

  “They’re all there, you know,” he called out to her. “If you had a little faith, you’d see them too.”

  Drake buckled his seat belt and checked his watch before turning to his passenger. “I need to pick up a few things from that electronics store on Ambassador Drive. How about after that we catch the two o’clock showing of that comedy you want to see? We can sit all the way at the back and in a corner so nobody’s behind us.”

  Annie thought about it and finally decided she could handle that. “Okay, but only if you promise to replace that dinosaur you call a laptop. All the cussing in the world won’t make it work any faster. It’s just sad, and frankly, I’m tired of hearing it.”

 

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