Just One Look - Leah and Lance (Crossroads Book 15)

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Just One Look - Leah and Lance (Crossroads Book 15) Page 6

by Melanie Shawn


  Hastily, she tugged the jeans she always wore every other Friday when Apollo the Great Dane came in for grooming. He was a sweet boy but very exuberant. His enthusiasm had led to more than one set of scratches on her thighs, and she had a date tonight.

  The night before, while she’d been lying in bed tossing and turning, she’d gone on Tinder with her new criteria in mind. She was meeting Brock the accountant for drinks at The Grill at nine tonight.

  She guessed he was attractive…in a vanilla sort of way. He had a steady job and said that he was looking for a relationship. They’d exchanged messages and he seemed…well, boring…but she was hoping he’d have more personality in person.

  She slid on her shoes, grabbed her purse and walked down the hall with her head held high. She could hear activity in the kitchen but she was determined not to let Lance’s presence affect her.

  Today was a new day. Yesterday, both times she’d been faced with Lance, she’d been surprised. This time she was ready for him. And tonight, she was going out with a normal guy, with a normal job, who was looking for a normal relationship.

  That’s exactly what I need, Leah thought to herself as she rounded the corner and saw Lance standing at the counter with his back to her, shirtless. Besides having the muscular structure of a Greek god, Lance was completely tatted up. His entire back was covered. He wore loose sweats that formed to his perfect backside.

  Damn, you could bounce a quarter off those cheeks.

  She must’ve made a sound of female appreciation because Lance glanced over his shoulder.

  “Morning. Are you hungry?” He motioned to the table—the clean table—which currently held bacon, eggs, and French toast.

  “No…um…I mean…I don’t…”

  Words, Leah. Use your words!

  “Is this okay? We didn’t talk about kitchen privileges.”

  “You have full privileges,” she practically purred before catching herself. Clearing her throat, she continued, “Please, feel free to cook and clean in this kitchen anytime you like.”

  She looked around and saw that the entire room was spic and span. It looked like it would even meet her mother’s white-glove inspection. That wasn’t metaphorical, either. When she and Bea had been little, her mother would literally put on a white glove to check that the twins’ chores were done to her standards.

  Spoiler alert: Bea had always passed. Leah had not.

  The kitchen wasn’t the only area that was clean. The living room was just as tidy. “No…I was just going to say that I don’t normally eat breakfast.”

  Just as she made her declaration, her stomach growled loudly.

  His only answer was a raised eyebrow.

  “Okay, maybe just a little.” She lowered down in the chair, still a little stunned by Lance and his incredible body, by the condition of her house, and by the delicious meal in front of her.

  “Coffee or OJ?” he asked as he pulled on a T-shirt.

  She wanted to tell him not to get dressed on her account, but wasn’t sure if she’d make it through the meal without drooling if he didn’t.

  “Coffee,” she answered before immediately regretting it. She preferred to make her own coffee because she’d never met anyone that made it the way she liked it. There were two baristas at The Daily Grind that came close, though, so she’d stop in before work.

  He poured her a cup as she began to fill her plate. “Where did you get all this?”

  “I did a little shopping after my run.”

  “You went on a run?” Damn, it was barely eight o’clock and he’d already worked out, cleaned her house, grocery shopped, and made breakfast.

  She was proud of herself just for getting up on time this morning. Of course, that had only happened because she’d already been awake, thanks to her new roommate.

  “You didn’t have to do all this.” She motioned to the living room as he sat the coffee and toast down and took a seat across from her.

  His only response was a small grin that told her he absolutely did.

  “Are you a clean freak?” she asked as she lifted the coffee cup to her lips.

  “No. But I did need to use dishes and have a place to eat.”

  She sipped the hot brew and the moment it hit her tongue she wanted to weep. It was the perfect flavor, the perfect strength, the perfect temperature…the perfect cup of coffee. Not ever had she or the baristas at The Daily Grind made java that delicious.

  Her eyelids shut of their own accord as she let the crisp, bright flavor, which held subtle notes of citrus and caramel, flow down her throat. She made a sound that she’d never heard herself make before. It was somewhere between a grunt and a moan.

  When she opened her eyes, she saw Lance staring at her. “What?” she asked defensively. “It’s a really good cup of coffee.”

  “Wait till you taste my French toast.”

  Nothing about what he said was sexual, but apparently her vagina didn’t know that. It spasmed like she was doing Kegels as she watched him lift a fork full of fluffy French toast to his mouth and take a bite.

  Holy mama cow. This man looked the way he did, cleaned, cooked, and made her pre-orgasmic talking about eating breakfast food. She was in big, big trouble.

  Chapter 6

  Leah removed her glasses as she entered the back of Barks, Balls & Bellyrubs. She’d passed Lance’s bike on her way in so she knew that he was already upstairs.

  Earlier that morning after breakfast, she’d offered to clean up. His only answer had been to grin and give her one of his stares, the ones that said a lot without him speaking a word. Then, he’d gone to his room, changed and left.

  There was something about his silence that said so much. She’d never met anyone like him and it was seriously messing with her head. For instance, she’d actually enjoyed doing the dishes. Visions had danced through her head, kind of like sugarplums, where she saw herself as a domestic goddess to Lance’s domestic god. She’d pictured them grocery shopping, cooking, and cleaning together. Cleaning. Since when did her fantasies include chores?!

  Who was she?

  Lance had Fresh Princed her. Her entire life felt like it’d been flipped, turned upside down. For the love of Bettie Page she’d eaten breakfast this morning. She couldn’t remember the last time that she’d done that. Her stomach was full of the most delicious French toast she’d ever had the pleasure of tasting. And her mind was full of the most graphic fantasies she’d never have the pleasure of fulfilling.

  “Good morning, sunshine!” Bea called out cheerily as she looked up from behind the desk. When her eyes met Leah’s, her twin’s bright smile dimmed. “You look…tired.”

  “That’s just another way of saying that I look like shit.”

  “No, it’s not,” Bea insisted.

  Leah’s only response was to stare at her sister. As she maintained eye-lock she realized she must’ve picked up the silent strategy from Lance, who used it quite frequently. It seemed Lance was rubbing off on her. Too bad he wasn’t rubbing up on her.

  The tactic worked, her sister conceded. “Okay, fine, sometimes it is. But you actually look tired. Did everything go okay last night? Wait, is that why you didn’t get sleep?” Her mouth made a circle in the shape of an O. “Did you two…?”

  Leah was not at all offended that her sister’s mind had gone there. Hell, it’s where her own mind had gone—and her body would’ve happily followed, if it hadn’t been for that stupid declaration she’d made less than twenty-four hours earlier.

  “No. We didn’t.”

  “Oh, good.” Bea blew out a breath and visible relief washed over her twin’s face.

  Leah didn’t take much personally, but she was a little offended that her sister was that comforted by the knowledge that she hadn’t hooked up with Lance. “Why, ‘oh, good’?”

  “Well, I thought, because you said that you were swearing off men, or at least men you’re attracted to, and from what Kitty has said about him, he’s definitely not your type, that
you might have…you know, it’s just that you can be very…”

  “Intelligent. Loyal. Brave. Hilarious.”

  “Yes, and forward. I was scared that you might have—”

  “What? Taken advantage of a grown-ass man?”

  “It’s just that everything I’ve heard about Leo, he sounds…”

  “Like a saint?” Leah filled in the blank.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “He might be. I wouldn’t know. I haven’t met him.” Now Leah was just playing with her sister. She loved a good reveal, and this one was going to be epic.

  A crease formed above Bea’s nose. “You haven’t…I thought…Doc messaged me this morning thanking me for helping his grandson. If he didn’t show up, then…”

  “Oh, his grandson showed up, all right. But it wasn’t Leo the Saint.”

  Bea’s eyes widened. “Who was it?”

  “It was Motorcycle Man.”

  Bea’s mouth dropped open. “Wait! The guy from yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “The one that Oscar showed the second floor to?”

  “Yep.”

  “The one you said was sent from either God or Satan to tempt you to break your new resolution?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “He’s Doc and Kitty’s grandson?”

  “Apparently.”

  Bea turned in her chair, giving Leah her full attention. “Who is he? What’s his name?”

  “Lance.”

  Her sister paused and looked up as if she was trying to place him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard them mention him.”

  “Me either.” Leah still thought it was strange that neither Kitty nor Doc had mentioned him before last night. She and Bea had spent a lot of time with the Taylors, and they’d gone on and on about Leo but never once mentioned Lance. The only thing she could think of was that it may’ve been too painful to talk about him because of their loss. “He’s Miles’ son.”

  “He is?” Her eyes grew as wide as tennis balls.

  There were a million things that Leah loved about her twin sister, but Bea’s reactions definitely topped the list. Leah might not have had a filter when it came to what she said, but Bea didn’t have a filter when it came to her expressions. Whatever she thought was broadcast in HD on her face.

  “So…who is he? What’s he like?”

  He smells like oil and wood chips. He has the hands of a lumberjack. His eyes are pools of chocolate that I want to swim in. His lips look like they’d feel soft, yet firm. His arms look like the perfect place to start and end a day. He says things that turn me into a puddle of goo and I’d rather sit with him not saying a word than talk with anyone else.

  “He’s…funny.” Leah wasn’t sure why that was the descriptor that she’d used. He was a lot more than that, but maybe that was just the one characteristic that had taken her by surprise.

  “Funny?” Bea’s nose scrunched.

  “Yeah, in a really dry, sarcastic sort of way.”

  “Wait. Did you two…?” Bea trailed off.

  “Go to Bone Town?” Leah filled in the blank. “No. He is my type, and I’ve sworn off men that are my type.”

  “Wow.”

  “What?” Leah followed up.

  “I’m just…impressed. I didn’t think you were actually going to stick to that.”

  Exactly. She knew that her twin hadn’t taken her seriously, which was just one more reason for Leah to keep her word, to herself and to her sister. Even if it killed her. Which, at this rate, it just might.

  The bell above the door jingled as Jasmine, who worked part-time for them while she finished up vet school, rushed into the shop. Leah wasn’t intimidated by many women, but if Jasmine wasn’t as sweet as she was, she probably would’ve been intimidated by her.

  Leah had always been just a little jealous of her effortless beauty. With a caramel complexion, chestnut brown curls, huge Mila Kunis honey-tinted eyes, full lips, and Sofia Vergara curves, Jasmine did what few women could; she managed to pull off exotic beauty and girl next door.

  Jasmine’s words came out in a whisper-yell. “Lance James is Doc’s grandson and he’s renting the loft above the store while he’s in town.”

  Leah heard the words that Jasmine had spoken, but they didn’t register in her brain.

  “Lance James?” Bea tilted her head to the side and her eyes shot to her twin. “The tattoo guy you’re always talking about?”

  “No. There’s no way,” Leah shook her head back and forth unable to process the information that Jasmine had just given them.

  “You didn’t recognize him?” Bea questioned.

  “I don’t know what he looks like.” It occurred to Leah as she pulled her phone from her purse and tapped on the Instagram app. She pulled up his page and found out why she didn’t have any idea what he looked like. There were only photos of his work, never of him. She googled his name and got the same result. She turned her phone to Jasmine and Bea and flashed them her screen before turning it back around and continuing to search. “There aren’t any pictures of him.”

  “How do you know it’s him?” Bea asked Jasmine.

  “I was helping out at the office this morning when Doc came in before he went to see Kitty. He mentioned that his grandson was going to be doing some tattooing while he was in town and that he must be pretty successful because he already had a client this morning. I asked who his grandson was, because you know how much Corbin loves those tattoo shows.”

  Ugh.

  Leah had only been half-listening as she scrolled through her phone to find some evidence that her Lance was the Lance James, but Jasmine’s mention of Corbin stopped her cold. She couldn’t help her reaction to hearing his name.

  Corbin was a textbook definition of a tool. The first time Jasmine introduced him, Leah thought it was a joke. He was average looking—and that was being generous—but carried himself like he was Brad Pitt.

  The most annoying part about him, though? He was a one-upper. If you said that you had a bad night’s sleep, he’d say that he didn’t sleep at all, and one time he’d even gone a full week without sleeping.

  And worst of all, whenever anyone complimented Jasmine—which happened often because she was a knockout—he’d undermine their comments. If someone said that she had beautiful hair, he’d say, “Yeah if you like it curly.” Or if they commented on her incredible large eyes, he’d make a crack about her always looking surprised.

  Basically, every time he opened his mouth, Leah wanted to punch it. She had no idea what Jasmine saw in him.

  “He watches them all,” Jasmine continued, “Tattoo Nightmares, Ink Master, Tattoo Rescue, Best Ink… Anyway, I thought I might’ve heard of him and Doc said that he tattoos under the name Lance James.”

  Just as Jasmine made that declaration, Leah hit the jackpot in her deep-dive into Google images. She found a photo of Lance James tattooing. It was shot from behind so it only showed his back, but she could see his arm. Lance James had the exact same tattoos that Lance Motorcycle Man had.

  She was breathless as a flush of adrenaline tingled through her body. Her mind felt as if she were floating.

  “Lance James is living with you,” Bea spoke with the same shock and awe Leah was feeling.

  “Lance James is living with you!?” Jasmine exclaimed.

  “Shhh!” Leah shushed her. “He’s upstairs.”

  She had no idea if he could hear them, but the last thing she needed was for him to hear them down there squealing like school girls. She didn’t want him to have more of the upper hand than he already did. With most—well, no, all—men, Leah had always taken the power position. She was in total control.

  But with Lance, it was like he was always one step ahead of her. She wasn’t sure if the hormones flooding her system each time she was in his presence was the reason she was always a beat behind, but whatever the culprit, she didn’t enjoy the outcome.

  Jasmine leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Lance James is l
iving with you?!”

  “He’s renting my old room.” Leah’s heart was beating a mile a minute.

  “What? How?” Jasmine asked.

  “I went to go visit Kitty in the hospital last night,” Bea explained. “And Doc mentioned that his grandson was in town and that there wasn’t really a room at his place for him. I told him that Leah had been planning to rent out her old room and the rest, as they say, is history.”

  “That’s so crazy!” Jasmine enthused. “He’s never been on any of the shows Corbin watches, but his work is mentioned a lot. He does incredible portraits and pinups.”

  “I know.” Leah nodded.

  “What’s he like?” Jasmine asked.

  “Funny,” Bea repeated. “Apparently.”

  “He’s funny?” Jasmine appeared as surprised as Bea had been when Leah had said it.

  “In a dry, sarcastic sort of way,” Bea replied and then filled Jasmine in on the run-in the day before.

  As the two women talked, Leah stood still, in a state of shock, until a memory surfaced that slapped her in the face.

  “I told Lance James that I wasn’t going to sleep with him,” she blurted out.

  Bea and Jasmine both stopped talking and turned their attention toward her.

  “You did?” Bea asked.

  “Why?!” Jasmine asked at the same time.

  “Because there was this…I don’t know…tension between us and I wanted him to know that nothing was going to happen. I think an exact quote was there would be no bow chicka wow wow and that my lady parts weren’t going to meet his man parts.”

  Bea, Jasmine, and Leah all looked at each other until Bea and Jasmine burst out laughing.

  At least they find this amusing, Leah thought ruefully, because right now I just want to crawl in a hole and hide.

  Chapter 7

  Lance had never had an issue staying focused while he worked. That was to say, he’d never had an issue staying focused while he worked before meeting Leah.

  Normally when he got a tattoo gun in his hand, the rest of the world faded away. Today, that was not the case. He couldn’t get Leah out of his mind. She’d gotten under his skin and he couldn’t seem to shake her.

 

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