Beck sounded hoarse as she listened to him complain. “Son of a bitch! What’re you doing? That water’s cold!”
“Not really, Beck. You’re running a fever. Get in.” Patrick’s tone was steely and Lucy chuckled when she heard another splash as Beck finally got into the tub.
The grousing continued as she took care of warming the towels and changed out of her wet clothes and slipped into her robe. Somewhere in her subconscious it registered that she felt sinful slipping into nothing else but the robe with two men in her house but she didn’t dwell on it. Worry for Beck was foremost in her mind.
Sleep was the last thing on her mind as she pulled back the blankets and covers on her bed so that Patrick could put him in it when they were done. She worried about Beck’s condition and wondered why he had come to her house. It was roughly the same distance to his house, or Patrick’s.
Patrick found her in the bedroom. “I called my sister, Maizy. She said she’d keep Patrick Junior overnight for me so I can stay with you two.” His words didn’t register for a second when she turned to look at him. He’d removed his shirt. His bare chest was lightly sprinkled with blond hair that narrowed into a trail leading down to his fly. She’d heard him talking about lifting weights at home and she could see the fruits of his labor for herself. Heat kindled within her as she noted the healthy bulge at his groin. When she finally met his twinkling gaze, her cheeks were hot.
“Sorry. My shirt was soaked. I hung it in the bathroom to dry out.” Lucy had the distinct impression he wasn’t sorry at all and she thought about pointing out that his jeans were just as soaked.
Remembering what he’d just said, she replied, “I was going to ask about Patrick Junior. I hope it was no trouble for her.”
“No, we’re pretty close. When she gets married and has kids, she knows I’ll do the same for her. She loves kids. Big surprise since she’s a kindergarten teacher. Listen, Beck’s saying he wants to go home.”
Lucy shrugged nonchalantly. “I put his clothes in the washing machine. Tell him to wrap a towel around his hips and get his ass in that bed.” She pointed to her king-size bed, which was made up with red sheets and matching comforter and pillows.
“That looks like something from the Playboy mansion, Luce,” Patrick said with a snort.
“What? I like bright colors.” She held the red accent pillow with gaudy fringe to her chest to hide her nipples which had come to attention at the thought of Beck lying naked in her bed. Recalling that he was sick galvanized her into action and she retrieved the warm towels from the dryer for Patrick. Armed with the towels, he returned to the bathroom and more complaining and arguing could be heard from within.
Sympathy filled her as she listened to the muted, weak sounds of Beck’s protest as he climbed from the tub. Moments later she wasn’t surprised when she heard him getting sick, bringing up the whiskey his body was rejecting.
When the door finally opened, it was to the sound of Beck growling, “I’m not a damn baby. She’s not gonna want me taking up her bed all night. My clothes were already wet. Just go get them and let me get dressed, then take me home.”
“No,” Patrick replied firmly. Lucy appreciated his implacable tone—as long as it wasn’t directed at her. He was downright bossy when he thought he knew what was best. “You walked all this way to be at Lucy’s house. That has to be for a good reason. Now either you get your ass in that bed or I’ll wrestle you into it.”
Beck exited the bathroom with a curse and Lucy turned from what she’d been doing and got a look at him. He was pale. He looked tired—and hurt. His green eyes were bloodshot and he averted his gaze as he caught her gaping at him. He had less chest hair than Patrick, but what he had was dark blond and glistened in the dim lamp light. Her fingertips tickled with the desire to run her hands over his toned torso and under the towel that covered his lean hips and upper thighs.
“Sorry, Lucy. I didn’t mean to put you to all this trouble. I’m okay, just a little under the weather. If I could have my clothes back, we’ll leave.” His voice was hoarse and she could hear the pain underlying his words. He really wanted to go home but that wasn’t happening. Maybe Patrick was right and things happened the way they did for a reason.
She wanted to go to him, put her hands on his shoulders to comfort him. “Sorry, Beck. I just put them in the wash and it’ll be a while before they’re done. You need to rest.”
His shoulders slumped as he stumbled to the bed and sat on the edge. He put his hands to his temples and ran his fingers through his damp hair, his body language fairly shouting that he was in pain.
Recalling the Tylenol in the bathroom, she left the room and returned with them and a cup of water. As he lay back against her pillows she sat beside him and could hear his teeth chattering. She looked into his eyes and her heart contracted as she saw how red-rimmed they were. That wasn’t just from whiskey and getting sick. That was emotional pain, too. She wanted very badly to put her arms around him but feared he wouldn’t welcome it.
“I’ll sleep just for a little while. I’m sorry, Lucy. I don’t mean to put you out of your bed. I hope I don’t make you sick. I didn’t feel this bad earlier this evening or I never would’ve suggested going out.”
“You’re not putting me out of my bed. The thing is huge if you haven’t noticed.” We’d all three fit if we had a mind to. “And I’ve had my flu shot so I should be fine. For now just relax, okay?”
He nodded and closed his eyes, giving in to fatigue as she laid the covers over him.
She held her hand out. “Can I have the towel please?”
His eyes flashed open and the little inner sadist in her enjoyed the turmoil in his expression. “I’ll be naked.”
“I gathered as much. But I don’t want you sleeping with a damp towel around you.” Crying shame to have a sexy nekkid man in my bed and can’t do a damned thing with him.
After a short inner debate, Beck finally squirmed around and handed her the towel with a frown. “I hope you’re happy.”
“I’m not, Beck. You’re sick and you need someone to take care of you.”
His head fell back on the pillows again and she put her palm to his burning forehead. He reached up and stroked her hand with his rough one. “Thank you, honey,” he whispered weakly, and she could hear his teeth chatter again.
Honey. It was unusual for him to use an endearment with her. It probably meant nothing in his feverish state.
After placing the wastebasket by the bed, she coaxed him to turn on his side and laid another light throw on top of the blanket that covered him before turning off the lamp. “Sleep, Beck. I’ll be nearby with Patrick if you need me.”
He nodded, and she could see in the dim room that his eyes were already closed.
She grabbed Patrick’s shirt from the bathroom and after putting it and Beck’s clean clothing into the dryer, Lucy joined Patrick in the living room as he watched the weather forecast. “It looks like we’re in for more rain tomorrow.”
Patrick was a sight, sitting bare-chested on her couch, and she enjoyed eyeing that sexy trail of hair that led to his waistband. Imagining how it’d look below the waist of his jeans had her cunt clenching with desire for him. The wait was getting old and sometimes she questioned herself. Thinking of the man in the next room—irascible though he might be—kept her hoping and waiting. But at least she could enjoy the view while they talked.
“Want me to put your jeans in the dryer?” she asked, unable to resist the hint of a smile on her face.
Patrick’s eyes twinkled as he replied. “Under the circumstances, it’d be best if you didn’t, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” The heat in his eyes suggested if he let her do that then they’d need to make use of the bed and with Beck in it the timing just wasn’t right. Lucy was okay with that because they needed to talk anyway. The moment felt like a turning point of sorts.
She picked up the remote and the television screen went black and silent, cutting off the droning of the weather announcer
in midsentence. “Talk to me, Patrick.”
His eyes were half-lidded so she couldn’t read his emotions. “About what?”
Lucy sat down close beside him and angled so she faced him a little. “If we have a hope of making something between us work, there can’t be any more deep, dark secrets.”
Chapter Two
Patrick shifted uncomfortably. He much preferred keeping it light between the two of them but the determined glint in her eyes told him that his attempts at evading her curiosity were at an end. “It’s not so much deep and dark as it is humiliating, Luce.”
Lucy picked his hand up off of his knee and Patrick hoped she wouldn’t notice how clammy his palm was at the thought of telling her about his ex-wife. She manipulated his hand between hers, pressing the pads of her fingertips into the muscles in his palms. An electrical charge sizzled up his arm as she tugged his fingers through hers and placed his hand on her thigh and worked her way up his forearm. Along with arousal, there followed a sense of relaxation, and Patrick watched her graceful hands with fascination.
“Patrick?”
“Huh?”
“Talk to me.”
“Sorry. You have magic fingers.”
Lucy smirked. “You have no idea.”
His mind dove into the gutter and his cock perked up when she looked at his chest and licked her lips. He struggled to recall what she’d asked him to talk about. They’d kept things platonic up until this point and he wasn’t accustomed to Lucy being so clear about what she desired. Then he recalled what she wanted to talk about.
“I met Elizabeth when we were teenagers and we dated a couple of times. After college she returned to Divine and it was then that we got serious. My family approved of her family and vice versa.”
“Her pedigree mattered to them?”
“Oh, yeah. And at the time I valued their acceptance. I was fresh out of college and I worked a lot of hours, paying my dues in the family architectural firm. Elizabeth seemed happy. Then she switched to a different church and started going to a lot of meetings at night without me. She became more vocal—and judgmental—in her opinions. When I talked with her about it, she said that if I wasn’t for her, I was against God. I thought when she got pregnant it would give her something healthier to focus on but it didn’t. Once she had Patrick, she hit the ground running. She’d pack him up and be gone all day at meetings, or at least that’s what she told me. When she started her study group…she became obsessed.”
“And the baby?” she asked, still gently manipulating the muscles in his arm, which felt oddly out of balance with the rest of him, lighter and warmer as though she was drawing toxins from him as he talked. He angled his body on the couch so he faced her when she reached for his other hand.
Patrick’s heart contracted at the memories. “I’d come home and find the house dark as though she’d been gone the whole day. She’d get home late and he’d be exhausted, and dirty. She’d hand him to me and get right on her computer, and I wouldn’t hear a peep from her, even at bedtime, unless I interrupted her. He seemed more and more like an inconvenience to her, and so did I. The one good thing to come of it was me bonding with my son over bath time and a late supper every night. I fooled myself into thinking that what bordered on maternal neglect was just the norm in a modern family lifestyle.”
He still felt tremendous guilt for not intervening in some way before everything had come to a head.
Lucy listened quietly, without judgment as he spoke. He didn’t relish telling her any of this, but she needed to know. He didn’t expect her to just accept that there was a part of his life that was a big black void, but he was afraid she’d view him differently. View him as a weakling.
“Leroy Paggs worked as a mechanic but I took care of all our vehicle service while in Morehead so our paths never crossed, even in a town as small as Divine. All that time Elizabeth had been acting like one of the frozen chosen, she’d been carrying on with Paggs. I divorced her after she…after I…” He stuttered a time or two before he finally spit it out. “Patrick isn’t my biological child. But I love him as if he was.”
Lucy’s hands halted for a second in their gentle manipulation and he glanced at her, expecting pity. She tilted her head and looked at him, hurt showing in the furrowing of her dark eyebrows. Sweet relief hit him when he didn’t see pity in her piercing blue eyes. Looking around the living room and biting her lip as if she was trying to decide what to do, she surprised him when she crawled into his lap. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she hugged him tight, pressing her face into his throat. Her sweet body heat through the thin, silky material of her robe hit him like opening the door to a hot oven, warming him.
Hope flared inside of him and he responded to her loving gesture. Holding back with her hadn’t been easy the last two months but it had become habit. He needed what she offered right then, like parched earth needed rain. To hold this warm, solid bundle of woman made him wonder when had been the last time he’d done that and he couldn’t recollect. Elizabeth had never been very demonstrative.
Patrick had accepted that Lucy might already know about his son’s paternity but it was clear from her reaction that she didn’t. He wouldn’t have minded if the girls had told her, and had figured that she already knew. That only solidified in his mind what good friends they were to him and his son.
He wanted the telling done with and forged ahead, anxious to move on to discussing where this night might take them.
“I knew Elizabeth wasn’t happy, but I felt impotent to fix the situation. She wouldn’t listen to me. I realized how twisted she’d become when she became obsessed with ridding Divine of all the polyamorous groups. She slandered and libeled them. Blogged about them. Posted videos and pictures on the Internet trying to shame them and finally began attacking them directly. At her urging, Paggs broke into Summer and Margot’s little boutique, roughed Summer up, and later set fire to the shop.”
He hated that he’d ever been married to someone who would do something like that. Lucy just looked into his eyes and stroked his temple as she listened, practically drawing the story out of him with her acceptance.
“You weren’t here for it but when that guy—who undoubtedly had a few screws loose—showed up at Stigall’s with a loaded gun everyone in town knew about it. The fact that what Elizabeth had been up to with Paggs was revealed at the same time. Damn…” He tightened both hands into fists, remembering the shame and emasculation he’d felt. “I took one look at Paggs, and saw the guilt on Elizabeth’s face and…knew. And little Patrick was there for the whole thing. Elizabeth could never control him in public places—never really tried all that hard. Grace and Rosemary have told me that if it hadn’t been for Summer, Patrick might’ve been caught in the gun sights of that lunatic.”
“It’s even more understandable why you feel so close to all of them.”
“Yeah, thanks to her quick thinking to protect Patrick, and her men’s efforts afterward, my son—and I do consider him my son—is still with me.”
“What happened? How did it all work out?”
“Paggs had already come up as a person of interest in Ace and Kemp’s investigation into the attacks on Discretion and Summer. They were there at Stigall’s, drew all the same conclusions I did, and confronted Elizabeth’s lover with the sheriff present. Paggs started confessing and before long he and Elizabeth were pointing the finger at each other, in public. He eventually pled guilty on charges of breaking and entering, arson, and attempted assault, calling them crimes of passion. He claimed she promised to leave me and marry him if he’d help her. She denied all of it but was convicted on lesser charges.”
“And the gunman?”
Patrick chuckled. “Rosemary knocked him out cold with a piece of a display rack.”
Lucy sat up but kept her arms around his shoulders as she frowned at him. “Will you lose Patrick Junior when Elizabeth gets out? Has she been in touch?”
“No…and no. Ace and Kemp made sure of t
hat. Paggs waived his rights after Ace and Kemp paid him a visit in prison and his parents are already raising two of his children from other relationships.” Lucy’s lip curled, perfectly mirroring his thoughts on the matter. “Elizabeth’s parents pick Patrick Junior up for a weekend occasionally, and send gifts for his birthday and holidays. They made it clear that they don’t have any plans to petition for custody. Ace and Kemp visited with Elizabeth, too.”
“Paid her a visit? Like ‘made her an offer she couldn’t refuse’ kind of visit?” Lucy asked with big eyes, and he could practically hear the gears spinning in her head.
“No. Nothing like that. Ace and Kemp have a talent for searching out secrets people don’t want anyone to know about. Or at least that’s what I heard. After their visit, they brought me a signed waiver relinquishing her rights to Patrick. They told me to let them know if she ever showed up.”
Lucy shuddered. “They’re big guys. I’m not sure I’d ever want them paying me that kind of visit.”
“I’m sure you’d never do anything to warrant it, Luce. And where innocent children are concerned, Ace and Kemp are very protective. I’m lucky that they reached out to me when everything went to hell. I was in shock.” He couldn’t imagine how the situation would’ve worked out if he hadn’t had their help.
“My dad was never really involved in my life when I was growing up. He was too busy working and expected Mom to take care of whatever we needed. I just want to be a good dad for Patrick and give him a healthy childhood. I want him to grow up to be a strong man, and not a pushover like I was with Elizabeth.”
Sitting sideways in his lap, she cupped his cheeks and tilted his head up so she was looking into his eyes. The scent of her warm flesh was intoxicating. “I’m sorry you had to find all of that out while half of Divine looked on. And I’m glad that precious boy is all yours. In my eyes, he’s a miniature version of you, trying to be a big boy for his daddy. I’m not sure where you get the notion that you’re a pushover because I don’t see that in you at all.”
Lucy's Revenge [Divine Creek Ranch 15] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 3
