Life in the Lucky Zone (The Zone #2)

by Patricia B Tighe

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Copyright © 2015 by Patricia B. Tighe

  LIFE IN THE LUCKY ZONE by Patricia B. Tighe

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Swoon Romance. Swoon Romance and its related logo are registered trademarks of Georgia McBride Media Group, LLC.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Published by Swoon Romance

  Cover designed by Hunter Blue

  Cover copyright © 2015 by Swoon Romance

  For Kate Martin, my resident “shipping” expert

  And for Steven, just because

  One

  Berger

  She was at it again. Lindsey Taylor had settled into storyteller mode, waving her arms as she talked. I thunked my empty hot chocolate mug onto the café table a little harder than necessary. But nobody noticed. Everyone else stared at her with their mouths partly open. Like, what’s she gonna say next?

  I didn’t even know what she was talking about. Something about a bus trip? I’d stopped paying attention ten minutes ago. I was probably the only guy within a three-table circumference who wasn’t listening—or at least looking.

  The café door swung open, depositing a middle-aged couple in heavy coats in front of the receptionist’s post. They unwrapped heavy woolen scarves from around their necks. Geez. It wasn’t that cold outside. It couldn’t be less than thirty degrees out there. Just the usual for North Texas in December.

  Laughter broke out around me. Good. The story was over. Lindsey took a swig from her water glass, her face flushed and satisfied. “Well, children,” she said, “this has been delightful, but I have to get to the airport. Adam’s plane lands in an hour.”

  “Wait,” Claire said, pushing her glasses back up her nose. “I thought he told you not to come, that he had a ride.”

  Lindsey slid her arms into her puffy white jacket. “He did. I’m going to surprise him.”

  “Uh-oh,” Rose said. “Surprises can be bad, Lindsey.”

  “It’s no big deal,” Lindsey said, adjusting the blue scarf around her neck and then flicking her auburn hair back over her shoulders. “If he has to ride home with his family, that’s cool. I just want to be there. It’s the little things, you know?”

  “If you’re sure,” Claire said, her voice full of doubt.

  Lindsey got up, drawing the attention of two guys at the next table. Why shouldn’t they stare? She stood there as if she were posing. I held back a snort.

  “I don’t know what that look means,” Lindsey said to Claire, “but I’m going. I don’t want to be late. Bye, guys.” She smirked at me. “Oh, and you too, Dragon Master. Or whatever the hell they call you in that game you play.”

  As a jab it was pretty weak, but I decided to play along. I nodded as regally as I could. “See ya, Drama Queen.”

  She gave me a fake grin. “Bye-ee.” She waved and headed for the door.

  A collective sigh went around the table, as though everyone could relax now. Maybe I could finally get a word in. “So,” I said, “what’s everybody doing this afternoon?”

  Rose dropped her napkin beside her mostly empty plate of lasagna. “Sam and I are going Christmas shopping.”

  “Lucky,” I said in a whiny tone.

  Sam laughed and then leaned forward. “You want to take my place?” he asked.

  I smiled as Rose punched him lightly in the shoulder. “You’re going,” she said. “You have to help me pick out a present for your mom.”

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes like she was a scary monster or something. “Yes, of course. That’s what I’ve been dying to do all day.”

  The waiter showed up and handed us our bills. He looked confused for a second when he realized Lindsey was gone. I couldn’t help myself. “You mean she didn’t pay first?”

  Claire lifted a hand. “I’ll take it.” The waiter gave her the bill and left. “She’ll pay me back,” Claire said. “She always does.”

  That said a lot right there. “You mean she’s done this more than once?”

  Gray tugged the slips of paper out of her fingers. “Let me get ’em.”

  She smiled and took them back. “Not this time.” Then she looked at me. “I know you think she’s taking advantage of us, Berger, but Lindsey is our friend. She’s paid for me more times than I can count.”

  I doubted that, but figured it was time to change the subject. “So, how about you two?” I asked, angling my head toward Gray and Claire. “You got plans?”

  “I have to babysit Jack,” Claire said, pulling a card out of her wallet.

  “I can help,” Gray said.

  She looked up and saw something in his face that made her blush. Great. More lovey-dovey time. Sam and Rose got up to pay. I focused on digging wadded-up bills out of my jeans pocket so Claire and Gray could have some privacy. Something I was having to do a lot lately.

  Gray cleared his throat and then drank more water.

  I figured it was okay to talk again. “Don’t you have to watch your little brothers?”

  “They’re spending a couple of days with our mom,” Gray said.

  “Oh, right. I forgot.”

  “You can come over too, Trey,” Claire said. “Baby Jack loves you.”

  Gray frowned at her. “Call him Berger. I get confused when you use Trey.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “I like you confused.”

  Gray leaned in and whispered in her ear.

  Here we go again. “Uh, no thanks on the babysitting thing. I’ll be fine. I need to be alone in my dungeon fortress to best fight off the enemies of the universe.”

  Claire chuckled.

  “Don’t fight them all off,” Gray said. “I’m coming over tomorrow, remember?”

  “You want me to sacrifice my life so you can kill a few measly aliens?” I shook my head.

  “You obviously don’t love me anymore,” Gray said.

  “Ha! Did I ever?”

  Gray pretended to yank a knife from his stomach. “Ouch. You can have your blade back. We gotta go.” He stood and helped Claire pull back her chair.

  “Wait,” I said. “No one’s leaving a tip.”

  “Chill,” Gray said. “I’m putting mine on a card.” He and Claire moved off to get in line at the cashier’s counter.

  “Right,” I said to nobody. Nothing like looking like an idiot. I didn’t know why it bugged me when people didn’t leave cash on a restaurant table. But it did. I dropped a couple of extra bucks next to the salt and pepper shakers and then followed the others to the line. Sam and Rose waited by the door for us to finish up.

  “I hope Lindsey’s not making a big mistake,” Claire muttered.

  “Going to the airport?” Gray asked.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  Oh, come on. This was Lindsey they were talking about. “She can handle any disaster,” I said. “Don’t you listen to her stories?” That came out a little harsher than I’d meant it to. But whatever.

  Gray looked over his shoulder at me. “Something bothering you?”

  “Nah,” I said. “Just sometimes it’s nice when the queen has other things to do,” I added in a low voice.


  “I heard that,” Claire said.

  Busted. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to diss her.”

  Gray laughed. “Yes you did. And I know why she bugs you so much.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “You’re too much alike,” Gray said and then smirked.

  Claire swung around before I could say anything, her eyebrows raised practically to her hairline. “That’s so true!”

  “We are not!”

  “Oh, yeah you are,” Gray said. “You both like to be the center of attention.”

  I was just about to deny it again when Claire spoke.

  “How funny,” she said. “I never saw it before.” She grinned at me and moved up to the cashier.

  Great. Just great. How could they accuse me of that? There was no way I was like Lindsey Taylor. I didn’t make my friends pay for my meals without asking. I didn’t try to rule every situation I found myself in. Especially in theater. Lindsey acted like she was second only to our teacher, Mrs. Macintyre. She directed people. She let her snark loose on people. She’d even, I had to admit, encouraged that freshman girl whose face burned red every time she opened her mouth.

  Lindsey had to have a say in everything. And since this was my first year in drama, I still couldn’t believe what Mrs. Mac let her get away with. Just once I would love to hold my hand across Lindsey’s face to keep her from talking, if people wouldn’t faint from shock.

  No. I was not like Lindsey.

  Claire and Gray moved over to wait with Sam and Rose. I paid and then followed everybody outside. The cold air sent a snap of energy thrumming through my veins, driving out the irritation of the last hour. Maybe I’d take a walk when I got home instead of playing video games. I needed to figure out how to keep Lindsey from getting under my skin so easily. Especially if I was going to keep hanging out with this group of people. And be a part of theater.

  Everybody was zipping or buttoning their coats, shrugging their shoulders against the cold. We said our goodbyes, and I headed to the car, my hands in my pockets, but my hoodie wide open so the cold air could seep into my flannel shirt.

  I could probably just keep ignoring Lindsey—or trying to ignore her. Right, man. That’s worked great so far. I really didn’t understand why Claire and Rose were friends with her. She was so demanding of their time and attention. Everybody’s attention, really.

  Maybe that was the key. If she wanted attention, I’d give it to her. Interact. Interrupt her stories. Basically go on the attack. Or not.

  I smiled even though the freezing air made my face stiff. Going up against Lindsey. What would that look like? Probably a nightmare. I shook my head. Nah, I should probably just stick to ignoring her. I could practice eavesdropping on other conversations while she talked. Or I could stick in a pair of earbuds and listen to music. Too rude? Yeah, probably. But nothing bothered her, right?

  Two

  Lindsey

  I practically raced along the walkway from the parking lot to the airport. Traffic had been as horrible as usual, and I was a few minutes behind schedule. My whole body vibrated like a live wire. I was finally going to see Adam. After the tension between us before school let out for the holidays, I knew we needed to talk. And this was probably not the best time, but I needed him to know I was serious about clearing the air. He’d insisted nothing was wrong. Maybe that was true and his week away had helped relax him, but I doubted it.

  When I got to the street, a car had just passed and no one was coming, so I didn’t even slow down. Once on the other side, my heart felt like it was trying to crawl out of my throat, so I paused and breathed deeply. I needed to be calm. To show Adam I could stay calm while we talked. I didn’t want him to accuse me of being overly emotional.

  Okay. My pulse seemed to be slower. I could do this.

  I headed forward, but ten feet from the entrance, the automatic door opened to a young woman pushing a stroller while also tugging a Chihuahua on a leash and pulling a small carry-on bag. How did people manage all that?

  Apparently not very well, because a toy or something came flying out of the stroller and a baby started howling. I shivered. I was so not good with kids. The woman stopped, said something to the kid, and then let go of her suitcase. Unfortunately, she also let go of the dog. It took off down the sidewalk.

  “No!” the woman yelled. “Bartholomew!”

  Bartholomew? The name was bigger than the dog. She glanced at me, then at her baby, then in the direction the dog ran, then around the stroller wheels for whatever the child had lobbed. Dang it. I was only five feet from the door, which had closed again. For a moment, I’d been able to hear people talking from inside. I needed to get in there—to catch Adam before he took off. I could just ignore everything and keep walking, but … dang it. I bit back a sigh.

  “I’ll get him,” I said to the woman and swung around. The stupid little dog had almost reached the next entrance. I jogged toward him, my huge bag banging against my side. Note to self: buy smaller purses.

  “Bartholomew!” I called. The dog didn’t even twitch an ear my way. Up ahead, a family came out of the airport. “Stop the dog!” I yelled. That was probably the first time I’d uttered those words in my entire life.

  A little boy looked toward me, then ran forward, and stepped on the dog’s leash. Hallelujah! I ran up, breathing hard—I seriously needed to exercise more—and stopped before the boy. Should I pat him on the head? Uh, probably not. “Thank you so much,” I gushed. “You’re a hero.”

  He gave me a shy smile and held the leash out to me. I took it, smiled at the adults, and headed the other way. “C’mon, Barty, let’s go.” Tooling along on his tiny legs, the dog looked truly disgusted with me for foiling his escape. Heh. I feel the same way about you, buddy.

  “Oh, Bartholomew,” the woman said as we approached. “You’re such a bad boy.”

  She looked like she was about to launch into a long round of thanks, so I passed off the leash and pointed toward the door as if I was in a hurry. Which I was. “No problem,” I said and dashed inside.

  People filled the baggage claim area, grabbing their items from the carousel, their conversations muffled by all the noise. I stepped out of the way of a man heading for the exit and scanned people’s faces. Where was Adam? Were his parents already here to take him home? That might make things awkward.

  I edged through the crowd and finally saw him. Relief ran through me, but immediately drained away at the sight of the people with him. Dressed in a T-shirt and hoodie, Adam was placing a huge duffle bag on the floor beside an elderly couple and a teenage girl. A gorgeous teenage girl with dark hair. I didn’t know who she was, but I hated everything about her. From her long, curling hair to the tight shirt that showed off all her curves. Even the tiny belly curve.

  Should I go over there? I kind of had to if I wanted to talk to him. But something held me back. Some sense that prickled up my neck. I shouldn’t meet those people. At least, not right now. Then the problem took care of itself. Adam straightened and looked across the room. Our gazes met. Locked. But I couldn’t read what might be in his. It was too far away.

  He tilted his head down toward the others, said something, and then started working his way through the crowd. I knew the people he was with must be watching, but I only had eyes for Adam. He did not look happy.

  Crap. I hadn’t planned on a fight. Surely that wasn’t what he had in mind. My pulse sped up, and I squeezed my fingers around the strap of my shoulder bag. And then he was standing in front of me, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, a vertical line between his eyebrows.

  “Hey,” he said, with no kiss or hug. “What’re you doing here? I told you I had a ride.”

  I made myself smile. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. It had gotten long; a couple of strands curled toward the snake tat on his neck. “How’re you doing?” he asked, sounding like he really didn’t care.

  I could barely choke out the word. �
�Fine.” Touch me. Tell me everything’s okay.

  Someone jostled him, and he stepped closer. “Look, you know things have been weird between us. I should’ve talked to you about this before I left, but I didn’t know how. Stuff has … changed.”

  I stared at the people he’d left behind. The old man was watching the bags go around on the carousel. The old lady was saying something to the girl, who was looking straight at me. Like she was waiting for something to happen. I wanted to ask who she was. I didn’t dare. I’d have to keep it general. “Who are those people, Adam?”

  “Uh, my grandparents. And Brisa.”

  Everything inside me started rattling around like it was about to break loose. “Brisa. Your ex.”

  “Yeah.”

  “They here for Christmas?”

  He looked toward the exit. “That and … longer.”

  I knew the answer before I even asked. “All of them?”

  “No. Just Brisa.”

  “She’s moving here?”

  “More or less.” Adam chewed on the cuticle on his index finger.

  He only did that when he was really nervous. Good. Glad I wasn’t the only one. I had to shrug off my nerves. It was like my dad always said: There’s only one way to get through trouble. Just walk straight ahead. So I did. “Adam, what’s going on?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and then lowered his voice. “She needed to be someplace different for a while. My parents invited her to stay with us.”

  His ex was going to live in his house. With him. Invisible hands squeezed my throat. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t talk. This wasn’t happening. I coughed, trying to clear an airway. Finally, when I thought my voice could take it, I spoke. “You know that’s not gonna work for you and me.” My words came out raspy.

  Adam looked me right in the eye. “I know.”

  “So we’re done?”

  He dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  Really. Really? He was sorry? A wave of hot anger swept through me. My hands shook as I loosened my scarf. All I could think was how much I wanted to hurt him. I let out a snarky laugh. “What? Is she pregnant?”