Lucas: The Hunter Brothers Series

by L. J. Dee

  “She’ll learn,” he laughed, walking into the main party area as I grabbed my tray and followed him, resisting the urge to tell him she wouldn’t. I had absolutely no doubt that one day my sister would get her prize. It was as sure as death and taxes.

  The party was in full swing by the time the band came on and the place was heaving. It was a stately home, unusual for the kind of gig, but the acoustics worked really well in the old ballroom I was covering. I made a beeline for the outdoor deck to a group of men who were standing and smoking cigars, imagining that no one else would be covering them. I knew instantly I’d made a mistake as my nipples hardened and goose bumps flared across my shivering skin. It had started to snow and there was nothing remotely warm about these so-called ‘hot’ pants.

  I clung to the tray, trying to quiet the chattering of my teeth and grabbed it tightly with both hands as I shuddered. I’d never mastered the one handed trick, but I smiled, holding out the champagne to the half dozen guests who were chatting casually.

  “Hey” smiled a gorgeous man in a white dress shirt, open at the collar with blond hair and blue eyes, full lips revealing a huge white smile as I looked up at him. He was hot!

  “Thanks” he said politely, lifting a glass from the tray and I flushed slightly at the way his gaze lingered on me. Why was I surprised? I was practically naked.

  I waited for a couple more people to replace their empties and take a refill, smiling as I turned to move, the whole tray shaking precariously along with the long stemmed champagne flutes as my body stopped abruptly at the strangest angle. My heel was stuck in the gap between the wooden decking, and in a flash the smiling stranger had steadied the tray, taking it from my hands and laughing gently as I bent down and tried to release my shoe.

  “Thank you, that could have been a disaster,” I said quickly, blowing out in a sigh of relief against the cold night air, my breath mingling with the plumes of smoke as I retrieved the tray.

  “You’re welcome,” he winked as I noticed a fifty lying between the glasses with no idea how it got there.

  The rest of the group were sniggering at my almost mishap as I grabbed the tray tight. I muttered my thanks again for the gentlemanly intervention, staring at the glasses in an effort to keep them steady, wondering about the rather generous tip as I turned way too quickly and straight into the solid chest of someone who’d appeared suddenly behind me.

  I all but rammed the tray against his solar plexus, watching in horror as the glasses shook and fell, my hands scrambling furiously to try and stop the inevitable in a split second reaction that wasn’t fast enough.

  ‘Oh fuck, oh no, not again’ I cried internally as the champagne soaked through the crisp white shirt, revealing some rock hard abs and the glass clattered and crashed to the floor beneath me, followed by the clanging of the silver tray. Oh. My. God.

  I stared at the calamity unravelling in slow motion beneath my feet as I prayed for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. The sniggers behind me were now full blown laughter, my cheeks were blazing and I couldn’t look up, too afraid of the reaction of the stranger I’d practically assaulted with my clumsiness. I knelt, staring at the floor and began to pick up the broken glass. I’d have to apologise, but I was just too mortified and even more terrified that these damn hot pants would split if I bent any further.

  Then again, maybe he should apologise. He hadn’t been there a second ago. Perhaps I should ball him out for sneaking up on me. Who was I kidding? It was pointless blaming him. I was a shit waitress and when it came to dropping trays, I had form.

  Grabbing at the glass and trying to get the biggest shards onto the metal tray with absolutely no regard for my fingers, I knew I couldn’t evade it any longer. I ran my eyes slowly upwards, from handmade Italian loafers, over the endless legs encased in black trousers, a ruined white shirt and straight up to a pair of the most vibrant cobalt eyes framed with thick black lashes that were staring back at me as I gasped out loud.

  Oh Christ, this man was gorgeous and his gaze just held me there for way too long, as my brain tried to refocus itself in a valiant effort and help me to remember where I was.

  He was dark and beautiful and ....smiling. He was actually smiling at my flustered face as I muttered my bumbling apology and he bent to help me, picking up the glass and putting it on the tray. We were face to face as I gazed at him again, stunned and mesmerised and my heart flipped in my chest, my stomach clenching as he seared me with a look so powerful I felt it between my legs, unable to help the small gasp that escaped my mouth.

  I had never met anyone so magnetic, drowning in those eyes and watching as his gaze fell to my chest, running his tongue absentmindedly across his lips. My already hard nipples sprang further to attention in response, wanting him to stroke them, kiss them and roll them between his fingers as a blissful sensation ran through my core.

  Ordinarily it would have felt perverse or unnatural, setting me on edge and making me uncomfortable, but it didn’t. I was caught in the headlights of those eyes, absorbing every feature – his strong straight nose and firm jaw. I wanted to feel the dark stubble framing those incredible moist lips underneath my fingers, wondering whether it was hard or soft like it looked. I had never responded like this to anyone, every cell in my body filled with a surge of warmth in the freezing chill.

  It was almost animalistic, a primitive need to be taken, kissed and touched, but I wasn’t an animal. I was a waitress in possibly the most humiliating situation of my life to date as I blinked rapidly, trying to push back my thoughts.

  “I’m so sorry,” I stuttered, trying to ignore the hysteria that was still surrounding me. I was desperate to get out of there, yet unable to move, still staring at the indescribable face in front of me as a jagged piece of glass sliced through my flesh. I gasped, looking down at the blood oozing from my finger.

  “Here,” he said kindly, taking my hand in his as a jolt of electricity shot through me, stemming the bleeding with his long fingers as I just stared at him mutely, swallowing hard. His grip was firm and masterful. He wasn’t afraid of his power and right now he was using that power to good effect.

  The feel of him as he held my hand was like lightening through my veins, sucking me deeper under his spell with those magnificent eyes and he wasn’t letting go. His hand dwarfed mine and I could only imagine what they would do to my body.

  Those cobalt irises were twinkling with amusement? Desire? Sexual need? I wasn’t certain, probably reading too much into it based on my own responses, but it was as though he could see into my mind and I wondered if he was having the same debauched fantasy as I was. I’d never felt such an intense and immediate connection.

  God, he was beautiful. It took a few seconds before my brain kicked in again and I scrabbled together the rest of the glass with my uninjured hand and hauled my mortified arse out of there as quickly as I could.

  I took my time in the kitchen as the professionals buzzed around me, feeling like even more of an idiot and trying to dispose of the glass safely without slicing my fingers to ribbons. How was it that they could move in and out without incident, filling and refilling, lubricating the guests without causing a calamity? This time I was determined that damn silver tray would not defeat me, loading up again and standing tall, trying to channel my inner Chas. My sister to her credit had never dropped anything.

  I’d managed an hour of accident free waitressing, with half my mind on the job, the other half running through my reaction on that decking, reliving it over and over. Every now and again I’d turn and notice the beautiful helpful stranger watching me from across the room, and the smouldering stunning eyes were nearly enough to make me drop my tray again. Hell, I almost wanted to, if it meant he’d come to my rescue. He was sex on legs, sinfully masculine and looking right at me. That gaze alone sent a tingled shiver across my skin and set my nerves on edge. He was beyond hot, and there was something else lurking beneath those glorious, handsome features. It was an air of danger that I
desperately wanted to explore.

  He motioned with his empty glass and I just knew that making it from A to B would be an absolute minefield, but I wasn’t deterred. I was determined to go over there, to see what he’d say and thank him for helping me, drawn towards him like a moth to a flickering flame as my insides erupted in a flurry of excitement that was all consuming.

  I stood tall, walking as steadily and as sexily as I could manage while I held that incredible cobalt gaze, moving slowly towards him through the crowd who were swaying precariously to the rocking tunes of the artists on stage. They sounded great and the atmosphere was buzzing. I weaved my path through grinding hips and flailing arms, thinking we might dance to this song at our wedding, wobbling for a second and deciding to concentrate on the job in hand. My imaginary nuptials to the beautiful stranger would have to wait.

  There was a slight smirk on the edge of his mouth as though he were silently challenging me, our gazes locked and unswerving. It was another silent call to every cell in my body as my stomach bounced with anticipation and need. I wondered if his voice would reflect his look; deep, dark and penetrating; melting my insides with a whisper as he kissed me, taking me underneath him and enveloping me in those strong arms.

  I didn’t know his name and I already had him fucking me, pinning me down with the weight of that solid body and it was unheard of. Chas would trawl through her magazines, letting me know in no uncertain terms what she’d like to do with the models that graced their pages. I looked and they were nice enough, but they didn’t move me, not like he did.

  He was every bit as fine as they were, but he had a fire in his eyes that was unmistakeable as I focused in on them, longing to reach my destination. I wanted to ditch the tray and just run into those arms, have him throw me over his shoulder like some macho caveman, drag me into a dark corner and do unspeakable things to me.

  I was halfway there, gliding through the bouncing throng in an uncharacteristically impressive balancing act. So far, so good. Heck, being upright at this point was novel. He was watching me as intently as I was watching him and then it happened. From nowhere, six pairs of hands swooped on my tray, leaving me without the bubbles he needed and I was momentarily stunned.

  ‘Noooooooo’, I screamed inwardly as I stood there and shrugged. A small smile was playing on his gorgeous lips as I all but ran back to the kitchen for a fresh load and reappeared, scanning the room to find him. He was laughing with the men from earlier and my colleague Poppy was walking away, having refreshed their drinks, swaying her ample hips and smiling broadly. Bloody typical!

  There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t face just meandering over to say my thanks in front of the group who’d witnessed my earlier faux pas, and it wasn’t as though he was looking out for me now. He’d wanted a drink and now he’d got one, so that was that.

  I only saw him once more, standing with the handsome blonde man and the talented lead singer of Heat, deep in conversation and having clearly forgotten all about me. I grabbed my coat and bag to leave and made my way home with the vision of those stunning eyes burned into my brain. I sighed deeply, knowing in all likelihood that I would never see them again.

  As I opened the front door I could hear the TV was on. Oh dear, this wasn’t good. It was too early, even for Chas. I poked my head around the door tentatively, just to check what I was in for...tears, ranting, or God forbid, ice-cream. It was none of them and she looked surprisingly happy.

  “You’re back early, how did you get on?” I asked, slightly puzzled as she poured me a glass of wine. She was smiling and shaking her head.

  “I left him in the restaurant. He got the numbers of three women before we’d even ordered. He was blatant about it too. The guy’s an idiot, Jess. If you’re on a date you show manners, that’s the point of a date. Always put your best side forward and if that’s his best side, I’m certainly not interested in the rest of him. He could have gone and got blown the minute he’d dropped me off if he wanted and I wouldn’t have cared, but not while we’re actually on the date. That’s rude and crass. Of course I knew he was that way, but I thought he might have better standards tonight. The man isn’t good enough for me,” she stated matter-of-factly and I had to agree.

  “I know you think my list of necessary attributes is ridiculous, Jess, but manners are actually at the top of the pile,” she said as I drank my wine.

  “Higher than hotness?” I quizzed. I didn’t believe for one minute that manners were that high up for Chas. “Higher than everything. Hotness is second, loaded is next, personality probably fourth, although I could go for boring if there were other qualities,” she giggled.

  At this point in time, I doubted I would ever truly understand my sister and her strange relationship lists, even if I understood what was at the root of it. It had happened to my mother, it had happened to me and there was no way it was going to happen to her. ‘Poverty’ and ‘pregnant’ were two words that would never be associated with Chastity Evangelista if she had her way.

  “How was it, did you manage to stay upright?” she laughed as my cheeks blazed, giving the game away. “Oh no, Jess, you didn’t,” she grinned and I nodded, rolling my eyes.

  “I did, but the weirdest thing happened,” I smiled, remembering the beautiful stranger who had come to my rescue and I could tell from the way she was looking at me intently that she was all ears.

  “It wasn’t really my fault, my shoe got stuck in the deck outside and I almost lost it. As quick as a flash, this cute guy grabbed the tray before it dropped so I could pull my heel out. I was obviously a bit flustered by this point. I took the tray back and steadied it and turned straight into the chest of someone who was walking up behind me and the whole thing went flying. Oh God, it was mortifying,” I said and she was laughing hard.

  “Shut up, you haven’t heard the best bit yet. I couldn’t look up for ages because I thought he’d be furious. I was knelt down in those ridiculous hot pants, picking up glass, and I wasn’t sure I could cope with a load of abuse at that point. Eventually I summoned the courage and when I saw him, Chas, I swear my heart stopped beating. He was just incredible.” I blew out a huge breath, wide eyed as she stared at me.

  “Was he mad?”

  “No, that’s the funny thing. He smiled at me, I mean actually smiled, and then he bent to help me, staring at me with these amazing blue eyes. I forgot about the glass, I forgot about the people laughing at me and I forgot that I was worried my hot pants might split. I have honestly never felt that way when I looked at a man. It was like the world stopped spinning for a second,” I said dreamily as she rolled her eyes.

  “It sounds like you’re trying to tell me it was love at first sight, and you know I don’t buy into all that thunderbolts and instant reaction shit, Jess. He was hot and he was kind in what sounds like the perfect storm of humiliation. He was a momentary hero and you’re mistaking that for something else entirely. It’s a side effect from too much Disney with Dex and not having sex for five years in the most fertile period of your life,” she said and she was probably right.

  “So what happened then, did you get his name and number?” she asked and I shook my head.

  “Why the hell not?”

  I knew she wouldn’t like my answer, but I was always honest with my sister, even when I knew what was coming. She was my hotline to reality.

  “Because I kind of think that’s his job. I couldn’t chase after someone, I just couldn’t do it,” I said as she took a deep breath. I prepared myself for the lecture that was coming whether I liked it or not.

  “You’re Jessica Evangelista, not Jane fucking Eyre. It’s the twenty first century, not nineteen hundred. If you like a guy, you at least need to get a name, and that’s not considered ‘chasing’. That way you can cyber stalk him anonymously and check he’s not a raving psycho before you decide to proceed. This is basic stuff, Sis, I’ve told you a million times,” she scoffed.

  “I know, but it’s just not me. I’m not as forwar
d as you,” I sighed, half laughing. I didn’t know anyone as forward as Chas.

  “It’s not about being forward, it’s about being practical. If I’d have been hit by that blue eyed thunderbolt, do you know what I’d have done?”

  She was telling me anyway.

  “While I’m picking up the glass I say, ‘I’m so sorry’. Then I pause and gesture subtly, waiting for his name, which incidentally he would have offered because that’s a perfectly normal social interaction. So he says ‘Brian Dooley’...”

  “He didn’t look like a Brian,” I interrupted as she huffed impatiently.

  “Not the point, Jess, go with it. OK, so I say, ‘thank you, Brian’ as he bends to help me, flashing a fabulous smile. No need to do anything else. That’s the beauty of Google, Twitter, FaceBook, and Wikipedia, need I go on? I’d be sitting here now, finding out everything I could about Brian Dooley and executing a way to accidentally bump into him again,” she stated.

  “That’s still chasing in my book, Chas,” I said as she shook her head in exasperation.

  “No, Jess, it’s called maximising your opportunities. At least my way you have a name. What’s the point in being hit by the thunderbolt if you’re never going to see him again?” she asked and I could see she was starting to lose it.

  “I believe in fate that way. I think if something’s meant to be then it’s meant to be,” I smiled as she hit me with her fiercest stare.

  “That’s because you spend every night reading the Bronte’s. That’s not life, Jess, at least not life today. We don’t live in a little village where you’ll wind up marrying the Lord of the Manor. This is a sprawling metropolis with millions of people, all looking for the same thing you are.”

  “Love?” I smiled.