Hell, if he were all of those things, he wouldn’t be single.
When things seemed too good to be true, chances were that they were just that. Too good to be true.
Her hair was pulled up in a pinup style and her makeup was fitting for that era. Her lipstick matched her red stilettos, the ones that featured a delicate strap circling her ankle, showcasing her killer legs.
She adjusted the neckline of her little black dress to gain maximum cleavage before running her hands down her torso, stopping just above the slit that ran up her left leg, all the way to just below her hip.
Her fingers brushed her exposed upper thigh and visions of Lance running his hand up her bare skin then slipping it between her legs flashed in her mind.
Clarity struck her at that moment. She knew that going out was exactly what she needed to do. She didn’t trust herself to be alone with him.
If she didn’t leave the house, the chances she’d be able to keep her hands to herself were slim to none. And slim had the day off.
Hell, she’d barely been able to stop herself from crawling over the kitchen table and attacking him after he’d said, “I know that you should never settle for anyone less than someone who makes you blush and takes your breath away.”
Who said things like that? A sociopath, that’s who. She’d watched enough true crime to know that Lance had to have an angle. She just wasn’t sure what it was.
When she opened her bedroom door she heard the sink running and she knew that Lance was in the kitchen. Of course he was. He had to keep up this “perfect man” facade he was perpetuating…for what reason, she had no idea.
She walked down the hallway and with each click of her heels on the hardwood floor, her heart sped up a little more. Her breaths were coming in short pants and her palms were damp.
Her sweaty palms were not due to nervousness, they were from excitement. And that had everything to do with the man cleaning her kitchen and nothing to do with the accountant she was meeting for a drink. She was more amped up for Lance to simply see her in this dress than she had been about anything…well, ever.
The most direct way to get to her car was through the door at the end of the hall that led to the garage. If she took that route though she wouldn’t be able to do a walk-by of the kitchen, and that was where the man she’d really worn this dress for was.
Front door it is.
She was convinced he was a sociopath with some ulterior motive, yet she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. If that wasn’t proof that she was right and he was wrong when it came to her resolve not to date men she was attracted to, she didn’t know what was.
She turned the corner and saw him standing with his back to her at the sink.
“I’m headed out.” Leah lifted her arm in a wave and immediately wanted to slap it against her forehead in a facepalm.
She was being so lame. Why was it that she was so witty, so fun, so flirty with every human who she’d ever come into contact with, but when it came to the one she wanted to be all those things with she failed miserably? Maybe this was some sort of karma for every bad thing she’d done in her life.
Lance shut the water off and turned toward Leah as he dried his hands on a dishcloth. In reality, the movement probably took a second to play out. But in the fantasy world that Leah was living in, the entire thing went in slow motion like a 90s teen movie. His eyes scanned her from head to toe and back up again.
A warmth spread throughout her body and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe.
Leah was no stranger to the art of seduction. She considered herself pro-level at making men, and some women, drool. But this man was next level. He possessed expertise that she’d never experienced. He’d effortlessly mastered the enticing lure of attraction and persuasion that no mere mortal could possibly be immune to.
When his eyes met hers again, a tiny, nearly imperceptible grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. The sexy smirk caused Leah’s knees to weaken. “You’re just showing off.”
She had no idea if he’d meant it as a compliment, but that’s how she took it. At least her body did. Just like he’d pointed out, her cheeks flushed and her breath caught in her throat. It frustrated her that she had zero control over her reaction to him, but she was helpless.
Forget the Dos Equis beer guy, Lance was the most interesting man in the world, bar none. And strangely, his appearance (which was four-alarm-fire hot) and his talent (which she’d admired-slash-obsessed over for the past five years) were the least compelling things about him.
He had a way about him, a swagger, an ease, a self-confidence that screamed he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought about him. Lance unapologetically was who he was. There was something so damn sexy—and simultaneously unnerving—about that quality. He threw her off her game at every turn, and she was starting to resent it.
Standing in front of Lance, she found herself once again at a loss for words. She was unable to summon any of her God-given charismatic charms. He was kryptonite to her mojo.
Which was exactly why she needed to get the hell out of Dodge before she did something stupid, like strip out of her dress and show him what her “showing off” actually looked like.
“See you later. Thanks again for dinner and the psych eval,” she quipped.
His only response was a slight dip of his chin in an acknowledgement.
She turned and headed to the front door, picking up the pace with each step even as her legs wobbled beneath her.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she said under her breath as she walked down her front path.
When she lifted her head, she noticed that Susan, her neighbor across the street, stood on her porch looking out over the block as she held her two-year-old toddler Mason in her arms. He had a full head of blond curls that bounced when he ran.
Leah waved as she headed to her car and hoped that the woman hadn’t overheard her talking to herself. “Hey, Susie Q. Hey, Sprout.”
“Have you seen a stray wandering around?”
“A stray?” Leah instantly went on high alert.
When she was a kid, her parents never allowed her and Bea to have dogs, cats…or any animals for that matter. But that hadn’t stopped Leah from rescuing everything from bunnies to birds, and one time, a baby squirrel.
She used to hide the animals in her and Bea’s playhouse for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. Then, inevitably, she’d be found out. Usually by one of the nannies ratting on her. Fricking snitches!
“Yeah, Mrs. Daly said that there was a white pit bull in the area, and he looked malnourished.”
Leah scanned the area. She was tempted to skip her date altogether and go look for the stray. “When did she see him?”
“This morning, on her walk.”
Mrs. Daly was up before the sun every day and she walked along the river. Rain or shine, snow or sleet that woman got her two miles in.
“I’ll keep an eye out. See ya, Sprout.” Mason lifted his head and waved at her.
Leah got in her car and decided to take the scenic route to The Grill, where she was meeting Brock. She drove around the neighborhood slowly for close to fifteen minutes, eyes diligently scanning both sides of the street for any flash of white or a wagging tail, before deciding that she was pushing the limit of fashionably late into asshole territory.
When she finally arrived at The Grill, she was already calculating how long she’d have to stay. Just like a comedy club, her usual policy with the men she dated was a two drink minimum. But those were men that she’d been attracted to. Not to mix metaphors, but this was an entirely different playing field.
As she made the trek up the steps to the bar, the absence of any sort of charge, any sort of excitement, was painfully evident. Leah loved meeting new people, especially ones with penises. But she could not feel more apathetic about this date.
Maybe Lance was wrong. Maybe love could spring from apathy. Maybe the absence of a spark would mean that something real could grow.
Only one way to find out.
She opened the door and stepped inside, determined to give Brock a real shot. After a quick scan of the area she saw a man sitting at the bar with sandy brown hair, glasses, and a blue dress shirt. He was the only person at the bar that was alone, so either he was Brock, or Brock wasn’t there.
As she made her way over to him she started to wonder if she might be approaching the wrong man. His build was slighter than the pictures she’d seen of Brock had led her to believe, and this man’s hair was thinning. Still, she’d been on enough internet dates to know that didn’t mean that it wasn’t Brock.
“Excuse me,” she said, making her presence known. The man turned and there were enough similarities from the profile pic for her to know that she had indeed found her date. “Brock?”
“Yes, hi.” The man stood and with the heels that she wore, she towered over him.
Five ten my ass.
This guy was five six on a good day.
Not that she had any problem with a guy being her height. She just didn’t appreciate being lied to.
Trying to look on the bright side, she was not in any way attracted to the man in front of her. So at least she could test her new theory. And although she didn’t want to jump the man’s bones, he did have a warm smile and kind eyes. So there was that.
He looked her up and down and, unlike the feeling she got when Lance had essentially done the same thing, this scan made her feel on display and uncomfortable. Leah took back the kind eyes and nice smile. This man’s eyes were anything but kind, and his smile was a smirk that she wanted to slap off his face.
His eyes never made it back up to hers, instead they landed on her cleavage. “Nice dress.”
Also, unlike Lance’s compliment that had warmed her from the inside out, Brock’s statement made her want to turn into Jimmy Fallon’s Sara character and say, “Ew!”
“Sorry that I was running a little late,” she apologized as she slid onto the barstool beside him. “A neighbor told me about a stray dog running loose and I lost track of time looking for him.”
She hadn’t really lost track of time, but it sounded better than the fact that she’d calculated how late she could reasonably be without coming off like an asshole.
“Why?” He asked.
“Why did I lose track of time? Um…” She hadn’t been prepared to answer that. And she wasn’t really sure how to answer that, anyway. If the concept of “lost track of time” was so unfamiliar to him that he wasn’t sure why it happened, well, she wasn’t quite sure what she could say to bridge that gap.
“No,” he shook his head. “Why did you look for him?”
“Because it’s a stray dog.” Leah was fairly certain she’d made that clear, but maybe he hadn’t been listening because he was nervous.
“I know,” he clipped.
Okay, so…apparently she had made that clear.
“But why did you look for him?” His tone was borderline condescending as he repeated his question slowly.
“I looked for him because I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t hurt, or hungry, or worse.” Again, she felt like she was explaining something she’d already made clear.
“Oh, so you’re one of those,” he said dismissively.
“One of what?”
“Bleeding heart. Animal lover.” He shook his head and picked up his drink.
“You don’t like animals?” Leah had very few deal breakers, as evidenced by the line of losers that she’d dated, but not liking animals was a nonstarter for her.
“Yeah, I like them.”
Okay. She wasn’t sure she believed him, but at least he’d said that he liked them. She took a deep breath. This date wasn’t off to a roaring start, but maybe she wasn’t giving this guy a chance.
“I like to eat them.” He laughed as if he’d just made the most hilarious joke.
And she was done.
She stood. “I would say that it was nice meeting you, but it wasn’t.”
When she started for the door he stood and grabbed her wrist. For a slight man, he had a surprisingly strong grip.
“Where are you going?!” He appeared honestly surprised that she was leaving.
“Let go of me,” she said firmly.
“I just wasted fifteen minutes waiting for you.” He tightened his grip. “Sit down. We got off on the wrong foot.”
Taking one step closer to him, she positioned herself and made sure her weight was distributed equally on the right foot. She’d taken more than one self-defense class and she had no problem putting the skills she’d learned there to work. “If you don’t let me go immediately, my knee is going to meet your balls, and I don’t think the introduction is going to go well for you.”
His fingers clenched to the point of pain and he spoke in a low tone that she guessed was supposed to be sexy. “If any part of you is touching my balls then I’ll be very hap—
Ugh!”
He released her hand and he dropped down to his knees. She guessed that was what being kneed right in the balls did to a person. As she walked out of the bar, she heard him call her a bitch.
She almost turned back to show him just how much of a bitch she could be, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort.
Her entire body was shaking with adrenaline as she got in her car and heard her phone ding. She looked down she saw it was a message from Bea asking how things with Lance were going.
Lance. The hot, perfect specimen of a man that was at her house. If she didn’t trust herself to be around him before, after spending five minutes in the company of Brock, she definitely didn’t trust herself. Not that Lance needed any other man to make him look good, but in comparison to that piece of shit, he was a mythical god.
Mythical was a great descriptor for him, actually, because—as she kept having to remind herself—there was no way he was real.
She quickly typed back, asking Bea if she could stop by and see her. That was the safer option. And for once in her life, she was choosing safe.
Chapter 10
Lance’s feet pounded on the path as sweat poured down his back. He was going extra hard this morning, pushing his body to its limits. He’d spent countless workouts trying to exorcise the demons of his past, but that wasn’t what fueled the fire for this morning’s session.
Leah hadn’t come home last night.
It was none of his business. It shouldn’t bother him…but it did.
He wasn’t jealous. He just wanted to know that she was okay. That she was safe.
Logically, he knew he was being ridiculous. She was a grown woman that was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. From what he’d seen in her viewing history on her television, she’d certainly watched enough true crime shows to make her fully aware that there were crazies out there.
Not that there seemed to be much of that in Harper’s Crossing. In the short time he’d been here, he’d seen that if someone littered at noon the entire town would know it by dinner.
He’d never spent any time in a small town before, but its charms were growing on him a little more every day. Although, some of the appeal might be that this was where his dad was raised. He felt somehow closer to him after spending a few hours with his grandparents.
He was surprised that he was actually looking forward to visiting his grandparents again this evening. And he reminded himself that that was why he was in town—he wasn’t here to get involved with anyone. Leah was not a part of his life, and she never would be.
So why hadn’t he been able to sleep last night? Why had he waited all night to hear her come back home? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?
Maybe he was jealous. Lance had never struggled with that emotion before, so there was a chance that was what he was feeling. But he didn’t think so.
He didn’t feel threatened by the man she’d met the night before. How could he? She’d said herself that she wa
sn’t interested in him.
Last night, he’d said too much. Maybe he was just feeling out of sorts because of it. Whatever the reasoning for his anxiousness, he needed to get over it. Today he had a client that was going to be getting a portrait tattoo and the reference photo was old and faded. He needed to be on his A-game and he hadn’t slept.
Which was exactly why he needed to stay away from females and concentrate on his work and family. In the name of self-preservation, he decided that he would find somewhere else to stay the rest of his time here. It was obvious that Leah threatened his self-control and sanity. Two things that he highly valued.
As he made the turn off the trail that followed the river back up toward the street that led to Leah’s neighborhood, he saw something at the end of the pathway. When he got closer, he was able to make out that it was a dog. The white pit bull was curled up in the corner beside a trash bin.
The dog must’ve heard him approaching because as he got closer, it stood and faced him. He wasn’t wearing a collar and Lance could make out the shape of his ribs, so it was obvious that the dog was malnourished.
Lance slowed his steps so he wouldn’t scare the dog and cause him to take off. He wished he had some treats and a leash. He’d rescued quite a few dogs back home and things always went easier when treats were involved.
Lance crouched down and tried to make himself as small and unthreatening as possible. “Hey buddy.” He made sure to speak in a soft, high tone. Dogs responded better to higher tones than lower.
The dog’s ears lifted and Lance could see that he was curious but keeping his distance. He was only a block from Leah’s house, but Lance was scared that if he left to go get treats and the leash that he’d seen hanging in her front closet that the dog would be gone when he got back.
He reached for the phone to call his grandpa. He only lived a couple miles away and he could bring Lance some treats and a lead. He dug in his pocket and realized he didn’t have it. He’d been so distracted that he’d forgotten his phone. He never forgot his phone.
Just One Look - Leah and Lance (Crossroads Book 15) Page 9