Near Perfect

by Ashlyn Mathews

  “I have two stepsisters, Bella and McKenzie,” Lucy continued. “Bella is twenty-three and McKenzie is twenty-seven.” She shrugged. “My mom is tall, skinny, and beautiful. She loves that my stepsisters are very similar to her, except they’re blond.”

  When her mother and Levi had married, Lucy was fifteen, a perfect age for Lin to harp on her about everything. If it wasn’t the less than fashionable clothes she wore, it was the short cut of her hair. Or the times she spent holing herself in Levi’s office painting. Levi stepped in when Lin got mean.

  Stretching her arms above her head, Lucy lolled her head from side to side. The muscles in her neck and shoulders loosened. She clasped her hands behind her head. A smile spanned her face. Ah, that felt better. Talk of Lin got her tense.

  Bryce cleared his throat. Lucy shot him a questioning look. His eyes dipped to her chest. She had stuck her chest out when she had had her hands behind her head. She grabbed the covers and pulled them up to her chin.

  “Why’d you break up with your girlfriend?”

  When she had mentioned her stepsisters, she’d noticed Bryce’s face lit up with interest. Of course. His ex-girlfriend was tall, blond, and beautiful.

  “I found her swapping spit with some other guy.”

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “Nothing to be sorry about. It happens.”

  “If you were with the right woman, it wouldn’t happen at all.”

  “Is that so?” His gaze was smoking hot.

  Was the fire burning too bright? She shifted beneath the covers. “If you were mine—”

  The words flowed, her thoughts spoken out loud. Heat crept into her cheeks. She resisted the urge to pull the covers over her head.

  “I see you’re over your ex,” he said with a crooked smile.

  “I was over him the day I found him in bed with my stepsister.”

  “Ouch.”

  On the kitchen counter, her cell phone rang. Lucy got up off the couch to get the call, glad yet irritated by the distraction. Only one person called rather than text message her.

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “Hi, honey.”

  Lucy was right. It was her mother. She called when she needed a favor, or had news to wave in Lucy’s face.

  Bryce walked past her and went out the sliding glass door. He returned with a beer in his hand. In an hour, they’d be headed to the restaurant he owned.

  “Did you get Bella’s message?”

  “Yes.” She watched Bryce pop the bottle’s top off on the corner of the kitchen counter. “She’s six weeks pregnant.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Um, no, Mom.”

  “Honey, Jason proposed.” Her mother was giddy with excitement.

  After the proverbial bomb was dropped, her mother said she had to go and hung up. Nothing was said about the snow storm or whether Lucy was safe. Her mother’s life was now filled with the lives of her beautiful stepdaughters. They brought her mother the attention she craved and thought was rightfully hers to have.

  Numb, Lucy stared past the sliding glass door at the snow on the ground. So Jason had proposed.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Bryce’s finger grazed her elbow. Have Bryce understand her, and she would understand him. Maybe then they’d become friends, and as a friend, he’d willingly hand over her diary to her.

  “My ex proposed to my stepsister,” she shared.

  “Ah, Lucy, I’m sorry.” He pulled her to him and rested his chin on the top of her head.

  She turned and settled her forehead on his chest. His heart thumped, thumped, thumped, the sound comforting, relaxing . . . nice. Why did it feel so right to have Bryce hold her? Just yesterday morning, she had hated his guts.

  She glanced up, and her words a whisper, said, “You’re a good guy, Bryce Morgan.”

  He cradled her face in his palms and brought her lips to his.

  “Bryce?”

  “Just shut up and kiss me, Lucy.”

  She did. A groan rumbled from him, and Lucy deepened the kiss. She edged closer until their bodies molded into a near perfect fit.

  Upright worked but for only so long. Bryce must’ve thought the same thing. He hooked her under her butt with his arms and lifted her. Lucy circled her legs around his waist and they made their way to the couch, not once breaking the mess of lips and tongue.

  With him seated, she straddled him. Her skirt hiked up to her thighs. Through her tights, she became aware of his erection under his jeans. She did that? Her? The one the guys avoided?

  He wound his fingers through her hair, and when he tugged her head back to break their kiss, his breathing was ragged.

  They looked at one another. It seemed like a long time. She figured seconds had passed. He ran his fingers across her lips from one corner to the other.

  “Kiss me again, Miss Badeaux.”

  Lucy leaned forward. Would this kiss be as electric as the last? Or would it fall flat? With Jason and Eric, it wasn’t like this—longing and a deep ache in her chest while the throb between her legs needed relief.

  Before she could kiss him again, Bryce picked her up under the arms and set her on the couch next to him.

  “You still love him, Lucy?”

  Bryce couldn’t possibly be jealous. Blinking in disbelief, she opened her mouth but nothing came out. Though they’d been neighbors for months, and Lucy had caught bits and pieces of his conversations, she didn’t truly get Bryce Morgan. And he couldn’t possibly understand her in a day’s time.

  He got up. “Grab your crap. We should get going.”

  She stood with her hands on her hips. “You can’t boss me around.”

  He sighed in exasperation. “Please. Okay?”

  That was better. She nodded. A change in scenery would be good for the both of them. They got in his truck and drove into town. The whole ride over he simmered, and she stayed quiet. No point in riling up the dangerous beast sitting beside her. He’d either chew her up and spit her out or lick her to death. At the thought of him licking her, she crossed her legs.

  Soon they parked in front of the restaurant. Bryce got out, and she followed. Inside the Grill, everyone commanded Bryce’s attention. She lingered behind as he made the rounds. Morgan’s Bar and Grill was one of the fancier restaurants in town. It was the first time she had set foot in the place.

  People gave her curious stares when they realized she’d come with Bryce. She avoided their glances and looked around. The building was floor to ceiling glass. In front of her was the bar with groupings of tables and chairs interspersed in a tight space.

  To her left—well, that was where the action was. It was a large room with a gas fireplace along one wall. Lights, shaped like tulips in faded hues of reds, blues, and yellows, hung from the ceiling.

  The place was packed. Lucy watched a redhead and a blonde approach Bryce in the bar. She hung back while he chatted with them. Occupied with the sight of him with two beautiful women, she almost didn’t hear the man behind her.

  “You didn’t answer my call, Lucy. I got worried.”

  The muscles in her body locked up. Though she told her legs to move, she stayed fixed to the floor. Her heart thudded so fast and loud she thought he’d hear it.

  She pivoted. “Eric.”

  After multiple text messages from him since she’d let his call go to voice mail yesterday morning, Lucy had blocked his number. He tipped his head to the side and gave her the arrogant smile she detested.

  “I take it McKenzie didn’t tell you I call the shots here?” He swept his palms out. “That I’m responsible for making the Grill the success it hadn’t been.”

  Lucy bristled at the possessive edge in his voice. The Grill wasn’t Eric’s. “McKenzie and I don’t talk.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her skirt and clenched and unclenched her fingers. “Everything she has to say to me is told to my mother. Then Mom tells me. You calling the shots anywhere besides at your last failed business isn’t
newsworthy to either of them.”

  He reared back with an incredulous expression on his face. “I’m floored, Lucy. That’s the most you’ve said to me in all the years I’ve known you.” His gaze traveled the length of her body. “Say the words, and we can start where we left off two years ago.”

  A wave of nausea washed over her. Don’t make a scene.

  “You and I were drunk when it happened. It was a mistake. I—I don’t think I . . . consented.”

  His eyes narrowed into slits, and he tightened his jaw. If they weren’t in such a public place, she had a feeling he’d drag her into a hidden corner somewhere and try to convince her that what had happened wasn’t rape.

  “Everything okay over here?”

  Bryce was at her side. From the corner of her eye, she watched him look from her to Eric.

  “Yeah,” said Eric. “Everything’s dandy. Lucy and I grew up in the same neighborhood. We’re just catching up. Right, Lucy?”

  Lucy nodded. If she had her way, there’d be no more “catching up” between her and Eric.

  “Lucy, is that you?”

  She recognized the voice. Vowing to later revisit what to do about Eric’s unwanted attention, Lucy ignored him and turned to acknowledge her friend, Ellie. On either side of Ellie was her son, Caleb and her husband, Jack.

  Caleb ran to her, and she got down on one knee. His hold around her neck was tight. Lucy buried her face in his dark hair and inhaled. Hmm, the scent of a three-year-old toddler. Fresh, innocent, and pure like clothes right out of the dryer.

  He let go. They rubbed noses. Eskimo kisses. She loved those. His eyelashes fluttered over her cheeks. Ah, butterfly kisses. Even better.

  Lucy laughed. “How’s my guy?”

  He cupped her face in his small hands and squeezed. “Love you.”

  Her insides melted. She picked him up, stood, and hugged him to her. Occasionally, she watched Caleb for Ellie and Jack. Whether it was for their date night or so they could go hiking at Larrabee, Lucy looked forward to her time with the little boy who had a firm grip on her heart.

  “Lucy, pretty.” He caressed her cheeks with pudgy fingers.

  She flushed. His words seemed to echo in the restaurant. Behind her, Bryce cleared his throat. Introductions.

  Holding onto Caleb, she introduced Bryce to Ellie, Jack, and Caleb. Thinking he might want his parents, she went to put Caleb down. He clung to her.

  “Lucy sit with Caleb.”

  He hadn’t seen her in a week. She missed him, and deep inside, she understood Caleb felt the same. Was this unconditional love?

  “Yes, little man, Lucy will sit with you,” she said. “But only if it’s okay with your momma and daddy.”

  Jack and Ellie smiled and nodded. Above Caleb’s head, she met Bryce’s eyes, blue and intense with a glint of. . . of what? Not desire. Caution, maybe? But why? He certainly had nothing to be cautious about in regard to her.

  However, the redhead from earlier, who had a firm hold on Bryce’s hand and was leading him to the bar . . . well, she looked like a predator on the hunt for her next hot meal. Lucy wished Bryce luck. She had her own problem. Eric.

  Chapter Six

  From the bar, Bryce had an unobstructed view of Lucy and her friends. The little boy refused to leave her side. He sat on her lap and colored.

  Something her friend said had Lucy laughing. Those eyes of hers gleamed while the grooves in her cheeks distracted Bryce from the sexy redhead across from him.

  He and Carmen sat knee to knee. She inched her fingers up his thigh. When she got too close to his crotch, he grabbed her hand and shook his head. She frowned, her full lips pouty. He had a feeling she practiced the look in front of the mirror often.

  “Come home with me tonight, Bryce.” She bent forward. Her lips grazed his ear. “It’s been a couple of months since you dumped Brittany. A man like you can’t stay away from sex for more than a week or two. Watcha say?”

  It was tempting. She was right. He loved sex. Yeah, after his breakup other women had tried to get him into their bed. But between the restaurant, the damn drinking, and the training that got him nowhere but more pain, Bryce’s libido was as flaccid as his cock.

  Until . . . until Lucy had straddled him. His cock had come to life, and he’d wanted to lay her down on the couch and have his way with her. Except, when he had asked her to kiss him again—

  He intertwined his fingers with Carmen’s. Dammit, when he’d asked Lucy, she had a look on her face as though she remembered . . . remembered what? Her time with her ex?

  While Lucy had been straddling him, was she thinking about the times she and her ex did the dirty?

  “You okay, Bryce?”

  Carmen’s words jerked him out of his haze of uncertainty. “Yeah, fine.”

  In his peripheral vision, he caught Eric eyeing Lucy as he mixed drinks from behind the bar. What the hell was up between Lucy and Eric?

  Carmen brought his hand to her lips. She kissed then licked the skin. The contact sent hot energy of need up and down his spine. Yet it wasn’t Carmen he wanted.

  Bryce followed Eric’s stare. Lucy. When he had interrupted them earlier, he’d sworn he saw heat radiate off Eric’s body as his gaze ran the length of Lucy’s scrawniness. Why did Bryce get the feeling his neighbor and his manager were once an item?

  The thought sent a surge of hate through him. It was intense. It took him by surprise. Unable to stand the noise of the Grill, he got off the barstool and hauled Carmen with him. They passed through the kitchen and out the back door. Forget Lucy. She wasn’t his type.

  Maybe that was why his body reacted to her. She was different. Lucy didn’t fit his mold of the kind of woman he preferred in his bed. Yeah, that was it.

  Here, shoved against the side of the building, was the sort of woman he liked. Carmen brought her leg up and cradled its slenderness against his. With one hand next to the side of her face and the other stroking the underside of her thigh, he dipped his head and kissed her neck. She moaned and rubbed herself on him.

  “God, Bryce. I’ve wanted you for so long.” She shoved her fingers into his hair and yanked. Her mouth clamped over his, and he gave in to the skill of her tongue. But when he whispered her name, she jerked away. Confused, he blinked and stepped back from the anger and hurt on her face.

  “Who the hell is Lucy?”

  Shit! Shit! Shit!

  He raked his fingers through his hair. Carmen barged past him. He followed her. Stay out too long, and people would spread gossip about him and Carmen like a flame flared into an inferno in a field of dry grass.

  As he made his way to the bar, the guys in the kitchen gave him big-ass grins. Once inside, his steps faltered. Lucy wasn’t in her seat. Maybe she was in the bathroom. He sat and gestured for Eric to get him a drink off the tap.

  Eric slid the glass to him. “You and Lucy an item, boss?”

  Bryce glared at him.

  Eric put his hands in the air. “Look, she left once you and Carmen headed outside.”

  Bryce shot out of his seat. “What do you mean she left?”

  “Gone. Walked out. L. E. F. T.”

  His drink forgotten, Bryce made his way out of the Grill. He kept his pace unhurried as he nodded to folks who said, “See you later,” or smiled his direction.

  On the outside he might be the poster boy for calm, but on the inside, his blood boiled. It was after six and cold as hell.

  A few blocks from their neighborhood, he spotted her. Her brown boots gave her away; otherwise, she blended in with the night in her dark clothes. He pulled up alongside her. Talk about déjà vu. He rolled down the window.

  “Get in, Lucy.” His patience wore thin. She had her hands tucked inside her jacket pockets. Above the noise of the truck’s engine, he swore her teeth chattered. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed her body shook.

  She ignored him and kept on walking. Blood roared in his ears. His heart thumped fast as he stopped and shifted the gear into
park.

  He flung open the door. He meant business. Her eyes widened, and she bolted. Bryce ran after her and snagged her by the waist. She slammed her sharp elbow into his stomach.

  He grunted but didn’t let go. She pumped her legs, but he was twice her size. Size mattered. He opened the driver’s side door, dumped her inside, and got in.

  She shivered. He pulled her into his lap. She twisted and tried to smack him upside the head. He grabbed a hold of her wrist.

  He wrapped his arms tight around her body and brought her close to him. When she stopped shivering, he loosened his hold.

  “Don’t ever do that again, Lucy.”

  “You came at me. I have every right to defend myself.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant. Next time, let me know you’re leaving.”

  “What, and interrupt your make out session?”

  Bryce gritted his teeth. He didn’t owe this woman any explanation when it came to personal matters. What he’d asked was simple.

  “I brought you there. That makes you my responsibility.”

  He buckled her in, and for the rest of the drive, he kept his mouth shut. She’d scooted next to the door and glanced out the window with her fists clenched on her lap as though being near him killed her.

  Bryce clenched his jaw and didn’t ask her the question that gnawed at him. Did you and Eric fuck?

  Damn, if the two of them had done the dirty, would he be able to get up every morning and deal with his efficient manager knowing that Lucy had said, “yes” to Eric?

  Shit, did it matter who she’d been with? Lucy was a means to a sponsorship. Nothing more. Not only would his father laugh at his choice, but so would the guys on the racing circuit. They knew Bryce liked his women with plenty of attitude to handle his foul-mouthed, fast-riding ass.

  Sighing, he parked in the driveway. Again, he kidded himself. The majority of guys his age had settled down. The circuit was for the younger crowd. At thirty-two, he’d be considered retired. The idea of a sponsorship started to fade.

  He glanced at the woman next to him. Was she the reason competing again seemed less appealing? Why he felt even more strongly about making the restaurant a success for the long run?