by Lori Ryan
“It was fun, baby.” She almost said they’d need to do it again sometime the way she would for any activity they’d found that they enjoyed, but she was keenly aware that Luke was only here temporarily. Sure, he lived in New Haven, but she didn’t have any reason to think they’d still see him when the month was out. She wasn’t about to make promises about that to her kids. She leaned over and kissed Prentiss on the forehead, loving the soft feel of the child’s skin. “Get some sleep.”
Butterflies seemed to be putting on a major production of Swan Lake in her stomach as she walked back out to the living room to find Luke waiting. His head was tilted back and his eyes closed. She took a moment to watch him. He took her breath away, the same as he had the first time she’d seen him, and she found her gaze drawn to his mouth. It wasn’t the first time it had distracted her. She didn’t know what it was about his mouth.
It wasn’t like she had a thing for lips, but his just seemed to call to her, made her itch to brush her lips against his. She glanced up to find his eyes open, watching her and the heat in them belied the smirk on his face at having caught her drooling over him.
Lyra felt her cheeks flush, but she stepped forward and sat on the couch, one seat over from him. She tucked a foot up under her and leaned her head on her hand. She couldn’t think of a damned thing to say.
Luke reached out and slid his hand into her hair then let it slide through his fingers. The simple gesture seemed intimate, easy. “You must be exhausted. Those girls are a handful.”
“You were the one that did all the work tonight. In fact, you guys practically put on a show for me. You’ll need to watch out. Alyssa will start to put you in costumes to play your part, if you’re not careful.”
She meant it as a playful warning, but the level of permanency it suggested made her glance away uneasily.
Luke didn’t seem to notice. He laughed it off and leaned back again. “Tell me about the girls. They seem so different at times.”
“They are. Alyssa has been the leader from the get-go, but I’ve come to realize Prentiss is very capable of putting her foot down with her sister when she wants to. I think she simply doesn’t want to.”
“She likes to take things apart?”
“Mm hmm. Anything she can get her hands on. Well, anything I’ll let her pull apart. I’ve finally gotten it through to her that she has to get permission before getting out her toolbox. She gets it from her father, I think.”
“Was he an engineer or a mechanic?” Luke asked.
“No, actually. He was an investigative journalist. But, I can see the same thing in them both. There’s this need to get behind things, to see what’s pushing it inside, how it works. He was never satisfied with simply reporting on a story or the news as it happened. He wanted to dig deep, make connections between things no one else had been able to see. He wanted to get to the heart of things. It’s the same thing with Prentiss only it takes a different form for her.”
“You light up when you talk about him. You loved him a lot.” Luke’s words weren’t a question, but she answered it as one.
“Very much.”
His hand came back to her hair, and even though they were more than a foot apart on the couch, he played with the strands, keeping them connected in a way that felt good. “I’m sorry you lost him.”
The words were sincere and the lump that formed in her throat was one of an old wound that would never go away. “Thank you.”
“How did he die?” His voice was soft, and she got the sense he’d never push her to talk about it if she didn’t want to. At the same time, the fact he didn’t pussyfoot around it and pretend her husband hadn’t died was refreshing.
“He was killed overseas in Iraq. I was six months pregnant with the girls. He almost cancelled the trip, but I told him I’d be fine. Twins can come as early as that, so he was worried I’d go into labor. As it was, I didn’t deliver the girls until I was in my eighth month.”
She paused a minute before going on. “He was there covering the war. They never identified the people who stopped the truck he was riding in. He and his photographer and their escorts were all killed.”
He didn’t offer platitudes. “Are the girls still close to his family? Do they see them often?”
Lyra nodded. “His parents were against our marriage in the beginning. Not in the same way my parents were, but his parents came around the minute the girls were born. And over time, the wounds healed and we’ve grown close. I wanted them to be able to know him through his family. His sister lives a few hours from here so they see her often. His parents are in Nashville, but we see them once a year or more.”
“And your parents?” His hand trailed to her shoulder, his fingers moving in small circles as they talked. He dropped it down to where her hand sat on the couch and held her fingers loosely.
“That rift hasn’t been as easy to heal.”
“No?”
She offered him a sad smile. “There were things said when Caleb and I got married that can’t be taken back and can’t really be forgotten.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to bring up something . . . ” He let the offer trail off but Lyra shook her head. She’d talked to her friends about this plenty. It hurt knowing her parents’ feelings, but she had dealt with it in her own heart a long time ago.
“When Caleb and I got together, his parents had concerns, but mostly because they knew being in a biracial relationship can be hard. There are people in both our communities who weren’t able to accept us. Their concerns came from a place of love.” She hesitated, thinking about how to explain, and she glanced at the hallway leading to the bedrooms. She never wanted the girls to hear this. “For my parents and grandparents, it was different. My grandfather told me that I was a princess to Caleb. That marrying me would be a gift to him, but I’d have to bear the price of that for the rest of my life. That my kids would be marked with negro features, a wide nose and frizzy hair. My parents didn’t say as much, but I could see they agreed. And they didn’t defend me or Caleb. Didn’t denounce the blatant racism. I’m honestly not sure which was worse. My grandfather who spoke the words or my parents who did nothing to negate them.”
Now Luke’s gaze shot to the hallway, too, and she felt a pang at the protective gleam she could see in his eyes. “Those girls? Those girls are gorgeous.”
Lyra smiled. “Yes, they are. I worry, though. I guess every parent does, but sometimes . . . ” she shook her head and the smile dropped. “I was so naive before I met Caleb. I mean, I knew black Americans faced racism, but I really had no idea how institutionalized and prevalent it was. As a mother, it becomes all too apparent. It’s things you never realize are an issue until you’re faced with it. Did you know, black people are half as likely to be given pain medication as a white person in an emergency room?”
The look on Luke’s face said he was as shocked as she had been when she saw the study. “Why?”
Lyra went palms up. “No one really knows for sure. Some evidence points to a perception that black people are more able to tolerate pain, although there’s absolutely no evidence of that. Others point to a perception of black people as addicts. When someone is perceived as an addict, it’s harder to accept a claim they’re in pain and need opioid medicine to address it. Another study pointed to a general belief that black people have thicker skin than white people.” She shrugged trying to cover just how angry it made her. “Thicker skin, less pain.”
“Wow.”
“I know. Crazy, isn’t it? I mean, I know they’re going to face challenges, but when you begin to examine it, it’s really shocking. For example, in one study in New York City, black girls made up twenty-eight percent of the whole student body, but they made up ninety percent of those expelled from school. Whether the actors behind those numbers realize they’re acting on racial bias or not, you can’t deny the numbers. And, it’s subtle things too. In many stores we shop at, there’s a ‘beauty’ a
isle and then there’s the ‘ethnic’ aisle.” She realized she’d gotten on a bit of a soap box. “I’m lecturing you, aren’t I?”
Luke’s expression was fierce when he shook his head. “You’re their mama bear.”
“I am. But I can’t follow them out into the world. I can’t go with them on job interviews or be there when they interact with the outside world. Frankly, my whiteness protects them if we make a trip to the emergency room. I can stand up and make sure they get the pain medicine they need. I can be an advocate for them at school. But someday, I have to let them go.”
Luke chuckled. “Let me tell you, that’s not easy. I worry for Naomi every minute of every day. It’s hard having her so far from home.”
“How’s she doing?” She knew he talked to Naomi every few days, at least.
“Good. She likes her classes, for the most part, and she seems to have made a few good friends. She seems happy when I talk to her.”
Lyra laughed. “And you still want to run up there and check on her, don’t you?”
He grinned. “If she’d gone to school close by, I’d probably accidentally run into her on campus a few times a week. It would have been bad.”
“You’re a good man to admit that would have been a problem.” She was laughing now, too.
“Hey,” he looked chagrined. “I can admit I have a problem. I might not be able to fix it, but I can always admit to the problem.”
She shook her head at him, but as the laughter faded, she realized he was watching her mouth now. Almost as intently as she’d studied his earlier, and a distinct heat sparked between them, weighty in the air.
“Right now, for example,” he leaned closer to her and the air charged again, arousal and the fluttering resettling in her tummy before moving distinctly south, “I’m having a problem resisting your mouth. I’m not going to be able to fix the problem, but I’m well aware of it.”
She had no response, but none was needed as he took her mouth with his. His mouth was soft, but it was firm, too, and there was no hesitation as he moved his lips over hers, easing her lips apart. She didn’t try to fight it. She leaned in, her whole body wanting to be part of what was happening. He made her feel things she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt with another man.
His tongue touched hers and the heat sparked to fire, banking further as his hand threaded through her hair and he pulled her close. She loved when he did that. It made her feel wanted. Desired and desirable because of it. When she wasn’t in his arms, she had occasionally wondered what he’d think of her body. She’d delivered twins, after all, and she’d never completely gotten rid of the tummy bulge that had resulted from that.
But the minute his hands and mouth where on her, that hesitancy was forgotten. There was no analyzing, no worry, no feeling she might not be enough. With every touch, he told her again and again that she was enough.
She didn’t know if he deepened the kiss or if she did, but she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. What mattered was what the kiss was doing to her. It melted her defenses. She’d been cautious about a guy who seemed too good to be true. About getting involved with someone at a time in her life when she simply wasn’t ready to be involved with someone.
Those worries all flew out the window as the touch of his hands on her and his mouth teasing and tantalizing lit up every erogenous zone she seemed to have. He slowed the kiss, drawing it to a close, but so slowly, that the very tempo of it was teasing. As though he knew it would only make her want more. When he finally did end the kiss, he rested his forehead on hers, but kept his arms around her, maintaining the closeness.
“Wow.” He breathed rather than spoke the word, the gruff undertone to his voice evidence of the effect the kiss had had on him.
“Uh huh.” She heard the breathless quality in her own voice but wasn’t surprised at it. The surprise came from the intensity of the kiss. She’d expected kissing him to be incredible, but this was so much more. “Wow.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Billy stared at the screen. “No.” He tapped the keys, all the while trying to deny what he was seeing. “No, no, no, no, no.”
Repeating the word wasn’t doing dick.
He’d decided to lock down all the information, lock the whole freaking Brain Trust down, until he could talk some sense into Damon.
But that plan had failed the minute he tried to login. He couldn’t. He’d been locked out. He was about to grab the phone and dial when an instant message popped up on his screen. Image file after image file came through and he stared at the screen. He couldn’t be seeing this. This could not be happening.
“Fuck!” He shoved his chair back from the desk and held his head in his hands. “Fuck!”
On the screen, the message from Damon showed the true depths to which his one-time friend had been willing to sink. Not only had his partner managed to lock him out of the Brain Trust, securing the information and any information Billy might be able to find on the auction Damon was setting up behind his back, he’d planned all of this from the start.
The images on the screen showed that the whole thing had been set up to track back to Lyra. His partner had known just how to control Billy. Accounts, the ISP address, several of the fake accounts they’d been using, had been set up to look like Lyra had been the one to set them up and use them.
How was this possible? How the hell had Billy missed this? His leg bounced up and down as he weighed his next move. This couldn’t be happening.
Bullshit he typed in the instant messaging box. Damon had to be bluffing. No way Billy missed this.
Try me was all the response he got.
The truth was, he couldn’t try him. He couldn’t call his bluff. And this asshole knew it. He couldn’t mess around where Lyra was concerned. He needed to find a way to protect her. No matter what it cost him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Joel looked as sick as Billy felt. “How did he do this?” He banged on some more keys on the computer in his office. The building was silent and dark, but for the lights they’d turned on in Joel’s office.
“Can you undo it? Is there some way to delete everything? Erase . . . logs, or whatever?” Billy had dragged Joel out of bed and told him what he and Damon had done. The way they figured it, Damon had to have logged into Lyra’s computer remotely from Joel’s company computer.
Joel shook his head and waved his hands at the computer. “I don’t . . . I can’t . . . I don’t know how to do that. I mean, I can see someone logged in and accessed her home computer on days she wasn’t in the office. I can delete the logs, but the whole system is backed up to a remote backup.”
“Can’t you log into the backup?” Billy looked over Joel’s shoulder.
“I can, but there’s always some copy somewhere. The cops will be able to find the trail, and if I erase it all, they’ll see I erased it. I can’t fucking do that, Billy.”
Billy grabbed at the keyboard, sliding it his way. “We can’t let Lyra go down for this either.” He knew Joel was pissed, and more than a little hurt. Billy and Damon had done this without him, and it was big. Really big.
But they’d known Joel wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. Joel was constantly trying to impress Lyra. He’d tell her in a heartbeat what they were doing, and she would have come down on Billy for it. Even before Damon’s fucked up plan to sell the information they’d collected to the highest bidder, Billy had known Lyra wouldn’t approve of what they were doing. It wasn’t like they were the ones violating non-disclosure agreements and shit, but it was sketchy. There had to be some sort of collusion charges or some shit that could be brought against them. Or maybe civil suits. They hadn’t hacked into any systems or anything.
Of course, after the shit Damon had pulled with the trains, they could no longer argue they hadn’t crossed the line into breaking the law. Billy ran a hand through his hair. Hell, for all he knew, they’d broken the law before that. He’d told himself they hadn’t, but he just didn’t know anymore.
&nb
sp; Joel tore the keyboard back and they wrestled for a minute, but Joel shouted at him, butting through the panicked haze in Billy’s head.
“Cut it the fuck out, Billy!”
Billy released his hold on the keyboard and sank back, leaning his whole body on the wall behind him. He felt exhausted all of a sudden, like he’d run a marathon. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes, listening to ragged breaths.
“I’m sorry, man, but we can’t fix this shit from here. Not without someone who knows what the hell they’re doing. And, that’s not me. You know I’d do anything to help Lyra, but I don’t know how to fix this, dude.”
They sat in silence, Billy wishing like hell he could go back and undo the last year. Joel was the one to break the silence.
“What about going to someone in the group? You said they’re all geniuses. Aren’t some of them capable of fixing this?”
Billy swallowed and raised hopeless eyes to Joel. “Yeah. They could, but what the hell would I tell them. Hey, we lied to you, pretended to be with you in the group, were out to fuck you over and make a buck on you. You probably would have lost your job once the company found out what you did? But fuck it, help me save my sister anyway. For old times’ sake?”
Joel looked away with a small, “yeah.”
“I fucked up so bad.” Billy almost whispered the words. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so dammed helpless in his life.
“Do you think Damon will really go through with it?” Joel’s voice said he knew the answer but was hoping Billy could convince him he was wrong.
Billy met Joel’s eyes. “Yeah, I do. I think he’s changed lately. I don’t think he much cares who he hurts anymore.”
“I’m not sure he ever did,” Joel said and Billy knew he was thinking back to times when Damon had bullied other people at campus parties or cheated to make a grade he knew he couldn’t make. It wasn’t something they’d ever talked about directly, but Billy could admit now, they’d made a lot of excuses for Damon over the years.
