***
“Your mother is the reason you broke up with me?” Luke stomped through Staci’s kitchen after her. “Are we living in the Dark Ages? Your mother isn’t some all-powerful ogre, Stace. She can’t harm Sophia and get away with it. She can’t control your life.” Luke sighed. This, he could deal with.
Staci shhhh-ed him and pulled the patio door closed behind them. “I didn’t mean she’ll abuse her, Luke. Mother’s not like that. But she will send the poor kid away. Raising another woman’s child is definitely not something my out-for-number-one mother is capable of. And if I mess up what she’s got going on, Sophia’s the one who’ll be most hurt. I can’t do that to the sweet kid. She’s lost so much already.”
“You like kids?” Luke put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. Dare he hope?
Staci shrugged, her laugh self-conscious. “Who’d have thought, right?” She shrugged out of his hold and walked to the edge of the patio where she toyed with a holly branch. “I’ve been spending some time with her and I really like her. The way she sees the world. Her trust.” Staci shrugged. “It’s refreshing and, in a way, makes me feel good about myself.”
Luke tucked that little tidbit away for another time. “So, if we can somehow manage to get Madeleine on the Board, Sophia—and you—would be in the clear, right?”
Staci shook her head. “Only until next time, Luke. With Mother controlling two-thirds of Sal’s estate, she’s pulling the strings. She can make Bella dance to whatever tune she’s playing. Me, too, if she ever finds out I care about Sophia.”
Luke tapped his lip. He knew all about strategy—and that experience was about to come into play. “What if someone else were to pull her strings? Then she’d be the one dancing.”
Staci finally smiled the first smile since she’d opened the front door. “What do you have in mind?”
“Why don’t we get out of here and I’ll fill you in?” Now that that misunderstanding was cleared up, Luke was ready to move in and stake his claim. Staci liked kids, had an unexpected altruistic side, and turned him on, along with having some depth and some smarts. And, oh yeah, cleavage. He was still a guy, after all.
“Okay, Luke. I’m all ears.”
***
Staci tried to keep her hopefulness in check as Luke drove down by the riverfront. It wasn’t fair that her mother had control of so many lives all by playing on people’s emotions—emotions she obviously didn’t have.
Luke pulled into his driveway in one of the high-end condo complexes and killed the engine. But he didn’t open the door. Nor did he say anything. He just looked at her.
“What?” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt and glanced away.
Luke turned her to face him with a finger under her jaw. He traced it around to her chin then drifted it softly across her lips. “We can beat her, Stace.” He brushed some hair from her face. “That is, if you want me to help.”
She wanted so much more. But this was a start. “But Mother doesn’t make idle threats, Luke. You don’t know her.”
“And she doesn’t know me. You, however.” He leaned closer. “I want you to know me very well.”
The look he was giving her let her know exactly how he wanted to know her now, and oh, she wanted that, too. And if he could make Mother’s threats disappear, she could.
Luke dropped his hand. “You’re not another conquest for me, Staci.”
“I sure as hell hope not.” She deserved better. For the first time in her life, she finally realized—and believed—that she deserved better.
He slid his hand to her cheek and her heart skipped a beat as he looked deeply into her eyes just like she’d always wanted a man to do. But other men had only rarely taken the time to look higher than her collarbone.
“No. You’re not. I like you, Stace. I really like you, and it’s been a long time since I’ve liked a woman for who she is instead of what she looks like. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I like how you look—hell, I love that—but this caring, nurturing, unselfish part of you… it… I…” He turned away.
This wasn’t Luke, the arrogant, cocky football player. This was a vulnerable side Staci had only glimpsed when he’d mentioned his son. This was Luke who wanted her. Who liked her. Who saw something in her she needed desperately to believe was there.
“I need you, Stace,” he whispered, his gaze burning into hers.
So much need; Staci knew it intimately.
“Let’s go inside Luke,” she whispered back.
“You’re… you’re sure?” Luke looked as if he’d just been given a gift but was afraid it was going to be snatched away.
She smiled and stroked his cheek. Gotta love the guy for giving her an out.
Her hand stilled. Gotta love...
Holy—
Staci swallowed. “Yes, Luke. I’m sure.”
He recovered quickly after that. He was out the door, around to hers, and had it open before she could find the handle.
Not that she would have known what to do with it if she had… She loved him.
As if she were a fairytale princess, Luke offered her a hand out of the carriage, but when their fingers touched, it was so very real that Staci couldn’t have let go even if she’d wanted to.
And, oh, she didn’t.
Luke didn’t either. Intertwining their fingers, he fumbled with his house key with his free hand while she held the screen door with hers. He finally turned the lock, shoved the door open, then kicked it shut behind them, tossing his keys onto the table with a clatter while tugging her toward the stairs on the far side of the living room.
Staci stumbled on something, their joined hands the only thing keeping her from going down.
She looked at what she’d tripped on. A crumpled t-shirt and a bag of chips. She looked around the room. Oh, man. He was a slob.
“Uh, sorry about the mess.” A sheepish Luke was an endearing Luke. “I got upset when you broke it off and went into a bit of a tailspin.” He kicked an empty beer can into a pile of dirty laundry. “Luckily, I never made it past this floor.” He slid his palms to her cheeks and touched his nose to hers. “The upstairs is clean. Do you… would you like to see it?”
Staci felt herself melt under the heat in his gaze. That desire was for her and it fed an empty place in her soul. “Yes.” Her voice was so choked she could barely get the words out. “I would.”
A stairway had never seemed so steep, the climb never so long, as Luke led her up to the second floor, each step laden with a significance Staci had never felt before.
But then, none of this felt like anything she’d felt before. Not how she behaved with Luke, not who she’d become, and not the way her knees were practically shaking with nerves.
And all of it was marvelous.
As he led her toward his bedroom, Staci realized why it all felt different: she was different.
She was finally herself. Not a daughter who had to act out to get her mother’s attention, not the sister of someone she’d related to through the actions of their mother, not the stepsister who’d been jealous of a girl who’d lost everything. Staci hadn’t known who she was, but now, with her decision to help Sophia, the effort she was putting into both her working and personal relationships with Bella, and Luke looking at her as if she were everything he’d ever wanted, she finally did. And she liked who she’d become.
Luke led her into the master suite, the tan walls as warm as cappuccino, and closed the doors behind him with a soft click. The bed, with its black-and-tan-striped comforter, stood on the far wall between two mahogany nightstands and Staci couldn’t take her eyes from it. Everything else faded from but the thought of her and Luke and the sharing of their souls and bodies they would do on that king-sized bed.
Luke came up behind her, his hands sliding around her waist and she could feel how much he wanted her. “You sure about this?”
More sure than anything before in her life. She turned in his arms, pressing her lips to his. “Take me to bed, Luke.”
>
“Ah, Staci,” he murmured against her mouth, “I’ve dreamt of you saying that.” Luke slid his hands low, cupping her, his erection pressed between them as he kissed her.
And kissed her.
Long, drugging kisses that fired her blood even as a sweet heaviness swam through her limbs. Hot, heavy breaths caressed her cheek as his tongue slid between her lips to turn her insides to mush.
Staci grasped the strong, broad shoulders of an athlete, his muscles clenching beneath her fingertips as she slipped them beneath his collar, needing to feel his skin.
He pulled her to him, her aching breasts relishing the pressure, her nipples peaked and tingling at the contact, and she groaned into his mouth. He slid his lips from hers and dotted kisses along her jaw to find the hollow beneath her ear as shivers followed in their wake.
Her head fell back and she groaned. “Please… Luke. I... I can’t stand.”
Luke laughed softly and kissed her again. His hands threaded through her hair, and it was amazing she remained upright. “Stace.”
One word, one syllable. Staci’s knees gave out at the longing in it and it was only Luke swinging her up in his arms that saved her, both literally and figuratively, from falling at his feet. He made feel special. Cherished, and utterly feminine. All Eve, sensuous and desirable.
She reached up to stroke his cheek, the desire in his gaze giving her the confidence to make the move and know that this would be more than just a one-night stand. For both of them.
Her fingers trembled against his skin. “Luke.” The husky voice didn’t even sound like hers.
Luke carried her to the bed, kneeling to place her in the center. He wanted her. It was there in his gaze, in the slight tremble of his fingers as they trailed over her arm, the soft kiss he brushed to the back of her hand when he raised it almost reverently to his lips, and the beat of his heart when he placed her hand there. “See what you do to me?”
Rising from the mattress, Staci kissed him. Then she slid her hand from beneath his and ran it down along his abdomen, tugging his shirt from his jeans.
Luke braced himself on one hand and yanked the rest of the shirt free. “Touch me.”
She didn’t need to be asked twice.
She shoved the shirt up his chest, reveling in the play of muscles beneath his sleek skin. As he reached behind his neck and drew the shirt off, she took the opportunity to taste him, licking along his abs as her fingers played with his taut nipples.
“Stace.” He exhaled as he sank against her so she knew just how much he wanted her. “You’re killing me.”
“What a way to go, huh?” She slid her hands inside his waistband. “These need to come off.”
Luke caught her words with his mouth, drowning her moan as his tongue did wicked things to hers while his lower half ground against her.
Staci gripped his two firm, tight cheeks, her fingers tracing the seam between them, and it was Luke’s turn to groan. Then he wrenched himself off her, lying beside her and fumbling with his fly.
Staci brushed his hands away and maneuvered into a half-sitting position. “Let me.”
Luke laid back, a hell of a sexy smile on his face. “I’m all yours, babe.”
He was all hers. And if he didn’t know it yet, he would.
Staci slid his zipper down inch by maddeningly slow inch. And if it was this torturous for her, she could only imagine what it was like for him.
She smiled. Good.
She slid her palms along the line of his hips, and shoved his jeans down a few inches, but not enough to free him.
“Babe.” His hips flexed upward as he groaned.
Staci stilled her hands. “Say my name, Luke.”
His eyes opened. He blinked. Then he licked his lips and a smile curved the corners of his sexy mouth upward. He hiked himself onto an elbow and cupped her cheek with his other hand. “Why? You think I don’t know who I’m with?”
He tugged her to meet him as he sat up, capturing her lips in a hot, open-mouthed kiss that put to rest her doubts. Almost. Because this was too important to her; it meant too much. “Do you, Luke? Do you really?”
He took the time to search her eyes. To travel over her nose, linger on her lips. To thread his fingers through her hair and stroke the ends across his cheek. “Staci Fontaine. The sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. The woman who hasn’t been off my mind since the moment we met. The woman I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of. That’s who I’m with. That’s who I want.”
Staci trembled with the passion in his words. Passion for what he was saying, for what those words meant, and… for her.
“Show me, Luke. Show me how you feel.”
Show me what it’s like to be wanted for myself, to have someone care for me. For me, the person. Not me, the body.
She didn’t utter the rest; she couldn’t. But the words hovered there, in her subconscious, where they’d taunted her for years. How she wanted him to be the one to make them go away.
And he did, slipping the clothes from her body with murmured words and hot kisses, a nip here, a lick there, stoking a fire deep inside her, tendrils licking through her veins.
He laid on top of her, pressing her into the soft mattress with his strong, hard body, every point of contact sending shivers racing through her. Somehow he managed to get out of his jeans, and the pressure of his thigh sliding between her legs had her moving against him.
He kissed her, their tongues dueling and tasting, sucking and stroking. He tasted of coffee and sugar and heat and him. “You taste so good.” He stole the words from her as his tongue dragged along her collarbone. “I could do this for the rest of my life.”
His confession sliced through the haze of desire between them. Staci opened her eyes, seeing puzzlement in his. “What?” she asked, not sure she’d heard right.
A smile replaced the puzzlement. Then a cocky grin. “Yeah. That’s right. You heard me.” He framed her face with his hands. “The rest of my life, Staci. The rest of our lives.”
“But—”
“Shut up, woman, and let me show you what I mean.”
He reached into a nightstand drawer, ripped apart a foil package, and rolled the condom in place. One more scorching look, the grin back, then Luke bent his head to feast on her neck, sending shivers down her spine and out through every limb as his fingers danced upon her skin as they slid lower, brushing the last scrap of material she wore.
“Lift up for me, babe.” He ran his fingers along the crease of her thigh, stroking just under the edge of her thong.
Staci obliged him and he hooked his fingers under the band and drew it down her leg. He repositioned himself on the other side and repeated the action, this time, though, moving down her body.
“Oh, man. What’s this?”
He kissed the spot she knew he would. The one only she and one other person knew about.
The spot with the tattoo of a pink rosebud unfurling into bloom.
She’d gotten it four months ago after Mother had mortified her by flourishing her date’s rap sheet during their first—and last—date, condemning the man in front of the entire place.
It’d been Staci’s private rebellion—Mother found tattoos distasteful—but Staci hadn’t yet worked up the nerve to show her. She’d sworn the tattoo artist to secrecy.
Luke looked up at her, laughter dancing with desire in his eyes. “I’m guessing Madeleine knows nothing about this.”
She laughed. How freeing it was to laugh at this moment. To share something so intimate and personal with someone who understood. “You guess right.”
“I’d love to tell her about it.” He kissed the pink petals again. “But this is our secret. I’m not sharing such a precious memory with anyone else, especially not that woman.”
Those were the last words they said for a while as the feelings and emotions overtook them, sending her heart racing and her mind into a thousand sparkling, shattering pieces as he drove her over the edge of completion. But those words wer
e the ones that kept repeating themselves in her mind. Luke had created a special memory between them. One just for them. Their own little inside joke and every time he kissed that rose, that one small, should-be-insignificant piece of artwork, Staci felt her heart belong a little bit more to him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“What’s the present for, Bella?” Sophia bounced into Bella’s bedroom the next morning, almost knocking the box to the floor.
“It’s a gift from Mr. Griff.” Bella ran her fingers once more along the gown Gus had made her. It was utterly beautiful and for the first time, she knew she was going to feel like her namesake.
“Can I open it?”
“Not yet, honey. Mr. Griff said I can’t open it until noon.”
Just then, the bells of St. Gabriel’s and the grandfather clock in the living room rang in the lunch hour.
Sophia grinned. “It’s noon.”
“So it is,” Bella laughed. “Okay, let’s open it.” Like two kids on Christmas morning, Bella and Sophia untied the gold voile ribbon and lifted the lid.
“Oooh!” Sophia clapped. “Look!”
Bella looked. She couldn’t not look. Inside the box on a velvet pillow were… the Lucite shoes from Mr. Griff’s store.
“Can I try them on, Bella?”
Bella shook the shock from her muddled mind. “Sure. Like I said when we saw these in the store, every little girl should feel like a princess at least once in her life.”
“And big girls too?”
Bella smiled. “Yes, big girls can, too, I suppose.”
“Like you tonight with that pretty dress and these Cinderella shoes.” Sophia waltzed around the room, humming the movie theme song Bella had grown to hate over the years. “I bet you’ll meet a handsome prince and fall in love and live happily ever after.”
And mice would turn into horses and a pumpkin into a carriage and she’d rush off at midnight—
Wait. Hadn’t Mr. Griff said she had twelve hours with the shoes and then she had to give them back?
If The Shoe Fits Page 21
