His Brown-Eyed Girl Page 14

  “Dunno,” Chris said, slurping the pudding straight from the cup.

  “Get a spoon,” Lucas said as the cell phone attached to his belt vibrated. He pulled it out.

  Courtney got right to it. “Why are you giving DeeAnn a hard time? Do you know how difficult it was to get her to come and watch the kids?”

  “Michael said she has a record,” he replied.

  “Just possession years ago. At a concert. She was twenty and stupid. She’s cleaned up her act since.”

  “She brought her fiancé with her.”

  “Oh,” Courtney said, obviously unaware of that particular. “She never said anything about bringing someone with her, but still, you want to leave and I need someone there.”

  Yes, he wanted to leave.

  Didn’t he?

  Of course, he did. He had a life in West Texas. A business. A ranch. A free round of golf at Las Colinas Country Club that expired next week.

  But why did that sound so…unappetizing? Mundane? Boring?

  “But not at the expense of leaving the kids with a couple of whack jobs. If you could see your cousin and her fella, you’d know what I mean.”

  “She’s always been a little colorful,” Courtney’s conviction faded a bit. “But she said you forgot to pick up Michael and Chris today.”

  Accusation in her voice.

  “I was on my way out, but Charlotte found your lipstick, I couldn’t find my keys and those two showed up. I didn’t forget the boys. There is aftercare and I was on my way.”

  “Wait, what do you mean found my lipstick?”

  That was what stood out to her in all that? “Uh, she found some red lipstick and tried to put it on. Don’t worry, I’ll call the carpet cleaners.”

  “Carpet cleaners? There’s lipstick on my carpets?”

  “A small spot, but we digress.”

  “I thought you wanted to leave.”

  “I do, but something doesn’t feel right with these two. I’m not Mary Poppins, but so far your children are alive, healthy and fed on a regular basis.” He couldn’t believe he even offered her a choice. He should be packing. Ben and Courtney had sent a savior…even if she reminded him of Mittens who stared at him from the kitchen table.

  “Get that cat off the table,” he whispered at Chris.

  “Luke, I don’t know when I can come home.”

  “I can work from here,” he said, wishing it were true but knowing that with Charlotte out of school every afternoon this week the chances were slim.

  “DeeAnn’s going to be pissed. I’ll have to give her a little money for her trouble.”

  “Maybe that was her main motivation.”

  “She’s not bad. I wouldn’t ask her if she was,” Courtney said, sounding defensive.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll cover it. I’m the one being difficult.”

  “What’s your motivation?”

  He glanced over at Chris who held Mittens out with two hands while walking toward the back door, trying not to get scratched. And then back at Charlotte who had nearly fallen asleep against his chest, making smears of red on his clean white shirt. “I’m a glutton for punishment?”

  Silence hung on the line. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” And he actually meant it.

  He ended the call just as the back door slammed shut, and scooped a sleepy Charlotte into his arms. “Okay, kiddos. You’re stuck with the mean old giant for a little bit longer.”

  Chris whipped his head around, withdrawing his hand from the candy jar, spilling jelly beans onto the kitchen floor. “Wait. You’re really a giant?”

  He gave the kid a flat stare.

  “Oh, right.” Chris stooped and started glomming jelly beans off the floor.

  Lucas caught Kermit who heard food hit the floor, and hauled him out the back door. “Go play with Mittens.”

  Seconds later Lucas pushed back through the swinging kitchen door to find loud voices coming from the family room.

  “I said get the hell outta my bag, kid,” Joe said in a loud voice—a voice full of menace.

  “This proves exactly what I was talking about. You’re not staying here with my brother and sister. No freakin’ way,” Michael’s voice sounded shrill…and panicky.

  “Hey, just put it back, Mikey. It’s not a big deal. Really.” This from DeeAnn.

  “I’m showing Lucas. I can’t believe Mom would let you take care of us.”

  “Give me it, you little shit,” Joe yelled, and Lucas heard the sound of heavy footfalls advance.

  Lucas emerged right as Joe lunged toward Michael. The teen feinted to the left and spun right instead, but Joe still managed to grab him by the sleeve.

  “Hey. Cut it out,” Lucas said, setting Charlotte on the floor and striding toward where Joe and Michael struggled over a bag of…marijuana?

  Jesus.

  Michael pushed against Joe, struggling to hold the plastic bag away from the man who once again lunged toward it. Michael twisted away but Joe managed to shove the boy, making him clip the coffee table and tumble onto the floor. The fireplace tools sounded like a gunshot as they crashed to the marble hearth.

  Lucas grabbed Joe by the collar of his shirt and spun him. “Hands off, bud.”

  The smaller man drew back his fist and let it fly, catching Lucas on the jaw, snapping his head back. Not bad for a flea.

  Lucas didn’t release his hold on the smaller man and ducked as the man threw another punch, which glanced off the back of his head.

  If Lucas had less control, he’d have wiped the floor with Joe, but two impressionable children watched. So instead Lucas grabbed the smaller man by the collar and shook him hard before tossing him onto the sofa as easily as he tossed bags of feed on the ranch.

  Joe hit hard enough to knock a picture frame off the table resting against the back of the sofa. He sputtered and scrambled to stand up once again. DeeAnn screamed and launched herself at Lucas, but Lucas had played quarterback in high school and still had pocket awareness. He scooped her to the side and dropped her next to Joe, knocking the man once again into the cushioned depths.

  Lucas pointed a finger at both of them. “Don’t get up, or I’ll beat you like you stole something.”

  Chris sock-slid into the room. “Cool.”

  “You okay, Michael?” Lucas asked, not taking his eyes off Joe because he trusted him about as far as he could throw him…which was obviously about three feet. Maybe four.

  “Yeah,” the kid said, rising slowly and holding up the baggie of what looked to be weed. “And I held on to this. You want to call the cops?”

  “No,” DeeAnn said, shooting upright and casting Michael a pleading look. “I didn’t know he had that. You can flush it.”

  “Flush it? Hell, no. That’s grade-A shit.” Joe didn’t take his eyes off Lucas. Smart man.

  DeeAnn punched Joe on the arm, making Lucas wonder if he’d been teleported to one of those crazy talk shows. “Shut up, Joe, and do what he says.”

  “You don’t go to jail for a little weed, Dee.”

  She turned to Lucas. “Do whatever you want to with it.”

  “Both of you get out,” Lucas said.

  “But I—” DeeAnn started.

  “Now.” Lucas stepped toward the two sprawled on the couch and they both shrank from him. Good.

  “Fine,” DeeAnn huffed, struggled to her feet. “I didn’t want to watch the little bastards anyhow.”

  Lucas tsked. “Apologize.”

  She rolled her eyes but looked over at Michael. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, can I have my stuff back, dude?” Joe asked.

  Lucas lifted the baggie and cocked an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

  “Frick!”

  Except Joe didn’t say “frick.” Pretty well established the man had a mouth like a sailor and Lucas’s gut instinct had been spot-on. No way he left the kids to these two morons.

  Lucas tucked the marijuana in his back pocket and glanced back at Michael. Chris h
ad moved to stand beside his brother. Charlotte stood behind Michael. They looked scared and that pissed Lucas off all over again.

  Joe and DeeAnn tromped from the room and Lucas followed. He didn’t want any more trouble. Before he left the room he turned back to the kids. “Stay here.”

  All three nodded, somber and still wary.

  Lucas oversaw the two as they gathered their bags and slunk from the house. No tender goodbyes. In fact, he got the finger from both of them as they drove away in a clown car badly in need of paint. He wanted to return the salute but decided to be a high-road kind of guy.

  He glanced briefly over at Addy’s house and saw she still hadn’t arrived home. A funny little plink echoed around his ticker. Which was plain dumb. Wanting Addy had nothing to do with anything above his belt.

  Or so he vowed to think.

  Turning, he went back in the house and found the kids still huddled silent in the living room. He walked over to the sofa and nudged it back into place, resetting the picture frame. Michael silently separated from his siblings and walked to the fireplace. Stooping, he righted the fireplace tools. When he’d finished, he glanced over at Lucas. “You were gonna kick his ass, weren’t you?”

  “If I needed to.”

  Michael nodded. “But you didn’t…because we’re here.”

  “That’s part of it, but I didn’t need to hurt Joe to make my point. He’s a coward at heart. I could see that.”

  “He kinda scared me,” Chris said, wrapping an arm around his sister who for once didn’t cry. Charlotte stood beside her brother, blue eyes full of fear.

  “But not me.” Lucas moved around and sat on the sofa. “As long as I’m here, I’ll protect you. That’s why your mother asked me to come.”

  “So why did she send DeeAnn, then?” Michael asked, still crouched by the fireplace.

  “I needed to go home so your mother tried to come up with a replacement.”

  “You don’t need to go home anymore?” Michael asked.

  Lucas didn’t want to lie to them. Hell, their mother was already keeping secrets from them. “Not more than I need to take care of you. I miss my horse Cisco and I miss the miles and miles of pasture, but I’m coping in the clutter.”

  “So how long you staying with us?” Chris narrowed his eyes, the normal confused look back again.

  “Until your mother and father come home.”

  “And when is that?” Michael asked.

  “I don’t know.” Lucas spread his hands toward Charlotte. “You okay, Miss Charlotte?”

  The little girl didn’t say anything. Just moved toward him, arms raised. He scooped her up and she laid her head on his shoulder, clutching him tightly. This time there wasn’t a ping around his heart so much as it was a swelling with something he’d rarely felt. He rubbed the child’s back and looked at the two boys. “I’m tired of eating takeout pizza, and I’m not in the mood for leftovers. Wanna go out for dinner?”

  They both nodded.

  Charlotte lifted her head. “Can we go to Chuck E. Cheese’s?”

  Michael and Chris glanced at one another, some unspoken message transmitted between them.

  “What’s Chucky Cheese?” Lucas asked.

  “It’s a pizza place.”

  “I’m kind of tired of pizza, guys,” Lucas said, setting Charlotte down between his knees and inspecting her face again. Who knew lipstick soaked into the skin like that? “How about tacos?”

  “I wanna go to Chuck E. Cheese’s. I wanna ride the horsie.”

  Lucas sighed. “Fine. We’ll do homework when we get back.”

  “Yay!” Chris yelled, pumping his fist into the air.

  Michael gave Lucas an indecipherable look. “You might want to see if Addy wants to go with us…or maybe grab a flask of whiskey or something.”

  Lucas stood, warming at the thought of inviting Addy. He almost liked the kid for suggesting it. Okay, he liked the kid anyway in spite of his bad attitude. “Whiskey? Why would I need whiskey?”

  Michael grinned. “Dude, have you ever been to Chuck E. Cheese’s?”

  Lucas slowly shook his head.

  Michael’s response was laughter…evil laughter.

  And Lucas knew he’d been had.

  Chapter Twelve

  ADDY STEPPED ONTO the porch, glad for the night air cooling her heated cheeks. She hadn’t seen Lucas since the night before and still felt weird about what had gone down in the kitchen. But here he was on her back porch…much earlier than midnight. In fact it was barely eight o’clock. Post Chuck E. Cheese’s. Poor man, maybe she should have shrugged off her Survivors of Violence meeting. No, she needed them after the threats last week. Talking through her fears always centered her.

  “Jeez, why didn’t you tell me?” Lucas said before she could even say good evening.

  “What?” She couldn’t meet his eyes. Why did she feel so embarrassed about the night before? She was a warm-blooded woman, a warm-blooded modern woman. Just because she straddled a man she’d known less than a week didn’t mean she was a hootchie mama. Much.

  “Chuck E. Cheese’s.” His disgust drew her gaze up to his eyes.

  “Oh, not exactly an adult’s favorite place.”

  “Understatement of the year. They don’t even have beer. It was an exercise in weathering the torments of hell. Two birthday parties were held there tonight. Two.”

  “You want a beer?”

  “Is that code for the same thing as tea?”

  Addy stiffened. “No.”

  “Damn.”

  And that made her smile. “Last night just sorta happened.”

  “Hell, I planned on coming over for tea every night,” he said, his grin awfully sexy in the weak porch light.

  “You’re down to two nights. You’re leaving in, what, a few days.” She averted her gaze because a low hum had started in her belly. Thoughts of his hands on her invaded, pricking at her reserves, urging her to let the passion bubble to the surface again. Last night had whetted her appetite for Lucas.

  “Nope. That’s what we were celebrating with the giant stuffed mouse. DeeAnn didn’t work out.”

  “The cousin?”

  “She came with herbal supplement.” He unfurled a bag of what looked to be…

  “Is that weed?”

  “Yep. Courtesy of DeeAnn’s boyfriend.”

  “You didn’t come over here to—”

  “Get high with you?” He laughed before shaking his head. “I don’t smoke this stuff. You?”

  “Never.” Addy took the bag and held it up before looking around as if a policeman might jump out from the bushes and take her down. “What’re you going to do with it?”

  “Don’t know. Put it in your compost heap?”

  Addy laughed. “Maybe it will make my plants happier.”

  “Or more relaxed.” Lucas smiled and again funny stuff happened in her belly. “But how are you going to explain your secret ingredient for prize-winning flowers?”

  “Better flush it.” She handed the baggie to him.

  Moving closer, Lucas tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So me staying awhile longer, that’s a good thing?”

  Something else trickled into her stomach—a sort of pleasure not stirred because of what this man could do to her body…but of what he could do to her soul. Lucas was staying longer. What did that mean for her and him? Was there even a her and him? “I’m not exactly sure what’s going on between us…except me jumping your bones like some deprived—”

  “Nah. Don’t diminish last night, Addy. You’re like an addiction. I want more of last night,” he said, lowering his gaze to her lips.

  She reigned in her inner Catholic schoolgirl. Okay, so she liked to be a little naughty. Did she have to feel guilty about it? Was it coded in her DNA? “Me, too.”

  “Good girl,” he breathed low, tracing her lower lip with his finger. Her body began to hum and she leaned toward him.

  Then she heard a car crank.

  Right. She stood
on her back porch where her other neighbor or the kids could see them. She edged back on the stoop. “I’m glad you’re staying. It’s better for the kids.”

  Lucas perceived the situation and tucked his hands into his jean pockets. “Not sure they agree but after I voluntarily took them for pizza and skee ball, they’re being a little nicer. Only had to ask three times for them to do their homework and Charlotte didn’t throw a fit when I made her brush her teeth.”

  “So what brings you to my door…besides the potent fertilizer?” Maybe he wanted a repeat of last night. Maybe she should invite him in for “tea.”

  “I wanted to ask you out this weekend.”

  She jerked her gaze to his. “A date? How?”

  “Well, the kids have to come along, but I think it will still be fun.”

  She lifted one eyebrow. “Define fun.”

  “So today when I locked myself into the bathroom—”

  Her befuddlement gave him pause.

  “Long story. But anyway, Modern Parenting had an article on dealing with troubled teens and ways to connect them to their family.”

  “Modern Parenting?”

  “I forgot my Photography Today magazine. But anyway, one of the suggestions was to root the child into the parents’ past, sharing favorite reminiscences of their own formative years with the teen. So that got me to thinking about my own past in New Orleans. I thought I might share some of mine and Ben’s favorite places when we were kids.”

  “And you want me to go with you?”

  His normally stoic expression melted into pure charm. “Pretty please?”

  “I work on Saturday.”

  He frowned. “Maybe when you get off? And we can always hit a few places on Sunday.”

  Spending the weekend with Lucas sounded…scary. But in a good way. If there was a good way to be scared. Maybe it was more like guarded anticipation.

  She wanted to get closer to him, but doing so felt like placing a big target on her back. Cupid already swooped dangerously close to her. Did she want to get shot by love’s arrow when she knew the man, though staying longer than anticipated, would pack his big truck and ramble off into the sunset?

  But another voice rudely interrupted the voice of doubt. Addy was fairly certain this voice was the one who had urged her to throw her legs around Lucas in the kitchen last night. And that voice said to stop thinking and take some chances.