Near Perfect

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Near Perfect Page 9

by Ashlyn Mathews


  Palm Springs. Lucy. The way Eric had looked at Lucy and the fear in her voice that night he’d brought her to the Grill. Was Eric the one who had hurt Lucy?

  “You might be able to get him on the checks. The thirty-thousand, he could plead ignorance, a mistake he’d overlooked.” David stood to leave, pulling Bryce out of his toxic thoughts of hurting Eric. Slowly. “It’s gonna come out soon, Bryce. Checks will bounce unless you can come up with some funds. Fast.”

  His workers’ paychecks. He stood and shook David’s hand. “Again, thanks.” He needed to get to Lucy.

  David nodded. “Good luck breaking the news to them and your father, kid.”

  * * *

  The doorbell rang. Lucy glanced at the time on her cell phone. It wasn’t noon yet. She set her paintbrush on the easel, rushed down the stairs, and thinking it was Bryce, opened the door. Eric. Her smile faltered.

  “What are you doing here?” At the determined look on his face, she started to close the door.

  He rammed past, shoved her aside, and slammed the door shut. “You let him screw you but think you’re too good to let me fuck you?”

  “How did you—?”

  He stalked toward her. “I’ve been in the parking lot every time he’d drop you off and picked you up.”

  Her heart hammered. She broke out in a cold sweat.

  He grabbed her by the hair. “I can tell by the way he looks at you.” He yanked. “I can tell by the way he touches you.” He brought her face to his. “Does Bryce know I had you first?” He smirked. “That he’s having my leftover?”

  He clamped his mouth over hers and forced his tongue into her mouth. She bit down on his bottom lip and tasted blood. Letting go of her hair, Eric gripped her wrists and shoved her hands behind her back. She went to knee him in the groin. He threw her face-down onto the couch and slammed his knee into the middle of her back.

  “I’m leaving town, Lucy. You’re my parting gift.” He laughed.

  She tried to buck him off. He laughed harder. Eric outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds.

  Out of breath from her face being smashed into the couch, Lucy moved her head and glanced sideways. There wasn’t an object to use on him other than . . . the small knife in her pants pocket. The one she’d used to get acrylic paint off the wood floor of her studio. Hope had her negotiating with Eric.

  “If you get off me, I’ll give you what you deserve.”

  He palmed her ass cheeks through her pants. “Promise?”

  She tried not to shake with disgust. “Yes.”

  He got off of her. She yanked her shirt up over her head and dropped it on the floor. Her freedom had to come at the right moment. Otherwise, she wouldn’t get another chance. She licked her lips.

  His gaze followed the movement before his eyes shot to her chest. “Take it all off, baby.”

  Lucy unclasped her bra and let it fall at her feet. His eyes gleamed. Bile rose in her throat.

  “You next,” she said. A rancid taste filled her mouth. God, she was going to be sick. “Take your pants off.”

  “You do it.”

  His fly was open. All she had to do was finish the job. She grabbed his jeans by the belt loops and tugged down until his pants were around his ankles. She glanced up. Bad idea. He was fully aroused.

  “Good girl.” He smoothed his hand over her hair.

  A low growl started low in Lucy’s chest and stuck in her throat. No guy had a right to talk to her like this, to make her feel filthier than filth, to have her demean herself in a crouched position at his feet. Pissed, she yanked out her knife and stabbed his thigh.

  Eric screamed in pain. His hand shot out and caught her across the back of the head. Reeling from his hit, but determined to get away, Lucy grabbed him by his balls. She squeezed. He yelped.

  Forget flight. Adrenaline had her in fight mode. With her free hand, she sucker punched him in the gut. He let rip a string of f-bombs. Lucy didn’t hear the front door crash open.

  She fisted her fingers in Eric’s hair. With all her strength, she slammed his head onto the wood floor, knocking him out.

  Hands clutched her shoulders and jerked her up. Through the roaring of blood in her ears, she couldn’t hear his words.

  “Lucy, love, it’s okay. I’m here.”

  Bryce. The fight in her faded. He enfolded her in his arms and she cried. He rubbed her back. She buried her face in his shirt. Shirt. Before she could ask, Bryce moved away from her and grabbed her shirt off the floor.

  He kicked at an unconscious Eric before he helped her into her shirt. His fingers shook. “Lucy—”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  He skimmed his fingers over her swollen mouth. “I listen well.”

  Smiling, and with tears in her eyes, she stood on her toes and kissed him. “Merci.”

  Bryce called the cops. While they waited, she asked him to tell her about his early morning meeting, anything to distract her from the slimeball still lying unconscious on her floor. At first, he hesitated. Then he seemed to understand. Holding her tight to him, as though he wanted to keep her safe for a lifetime, he told her what Eric had done.

  When his voice shook with frustration and anger, Lucy opened her mouth to tell him he’d be okay. That he’d overcome worse situations in his life. But a commotion outside had her rushing to her door.

  There was yelling and screaming plus sirens. She opened the door to find an officer with his fist halted mid-air.

  “You Lucy Badeaux?”

  “Yes.” Bryce stood behind her with his arms draped over her shoulders. The officer’s gaze went from her to Bryce before settling on Lucy again.

  “We’re here to take a statement, but first—” he glanced over his shoulder “—you and Bryce might want to break up the fight between his dad and your stepdad.”

  What?!

  She and Bryce hurried to their shared driveway.

  “Your loser son has no right to be near Lucy.”

  “My loser son?” A big, burly man jabbed his finger into Levi’s sternum. “My son is a Supercross champ.” Bryce’s dad stopped his jabbing and puffed out his chest. “And he owns a successful business.”

  Bryce reached for her hand. Giving him a sidelong glance, she slipped her hand into his. Her heart ached for him. He’d have to tell his dad the news.

  Bryce cleared his throat. Both men turned. Levi glanced from her hand clasped in Bryce’s to the officers leading Eric out in handcuffs.

  A nerve above Levi’s eye started twitching. Clenching his jaw, he balled his fists at his sides. “If what I think happened . . .” He stalked toward Bryce.

  Lucy yanked her hand out of Bryce’s and put herself between Levi and Bryce. As soon as the words had left Levi’s mouth, Lucy had glimpsed the pissed off glare on Bryce’s face. Levi had jumped to the wrong conclusion.

  “Eric attacked me, Levi.” She stuck out her palms. She wouldn’t let anyone harm Bryce. “Bryce didn’t hurt Eric. I did. He—” She glanced at the sky and blinked away her tears. “He tried to rape me, like he did two years ago.”

  At her truth, the men cursed. Levi pulled her into his arms. “Lucy, I’m so sorry.” He put her at arms’ length. “Whatever it takes, I’ll make sure he’s jailed for a long time.”

  “What about your partnership with his father?” It was the worst time to worry about Levi’s business.

  He shrugged. “It might be awkward, but I won’t let a father pay for his son’s crime.”

  She nodded. Levi was a good man. No wonder her mother had been easily swayed by him. Her mother. “How come you’re here a day early? And where’s mom, Bella, and McKenzie?”

  “They’re not coming.” Levi kicked at the ground. “Bella lost the baby, sweetheart. Her and Jason . . . they’re not taking it too well.”

  Her chest constricted. Poor Bella. From behind her, Bryce wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned her body back against the strength of his. “Give Bella a hug for me.”

  “Of course.
First, I got business to take care of.” He pointed his finger at the man behind Lucy. “Stay away from Lucy. Stop using her.”

  Confused, Lucy wrenched out of Bryce’s hold and faced him.

  Bryce’s father moved to stand by his son. “What are you accusing my son of, mister?”

  Bryce shoved his hands inside his jeans pockets. “Lucy, meet my father, John.”

  “Mr. Morgan,” she said, “meet my stepdad, Levi Peterson.”

  Reluctantly, the two men stepped forward and shook hands.

  “Why don’t we get out of the cold and have this conversation inside?” she suggested. The neighbors were gathering outside their places at all the commotion on the dead end.

  Bryce tilted his head in the direction of his place. She tipped her head toward hers.

  Levi caught their slight movements. “Don’t tell me you two are neighbors?”

  “Um, yeah, Levi.”

  “Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Now I understand.”

  “Understand what?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  Ignoring her, Levi directed his next words at Bryce. “Give Lucy up, and I’m willing to give you a sponsorship. And if Eric had a hand in your business, I’ll personally give you money for your now-failing restaurant.”

  “What the hell do you mean failing?” Mr. Morgan demanded.

  “Eff you,” Bryce said, giving Levi the middle finger.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tired of standing out in the cold, Lucy took matters into her own hands. She stomped to Bryce’s door and demanded he open it. He did, and grumbling, the men followed her into Bryce’s place.

  She pointed at the chairs around his kitchen table. “Take a seat.”

  They sat, including her. She clasped her hands in front of her on the table. Mr. Morgan sat ram rod straight.

  She took a deep breath then exhaled. “Eric—”

  Bryce reached over and covered her hands with his. “No, Lucy. This part is mine to tell.” Letting go of her hand, Bryce turned in his seat and faced his father. “Dad, I messed up big time. The training, the drinking . . .” He clenched and unclenched his hand on the table.

  She stilled his nervousness by settling her hand on his. He looked her way and gave her a slight smile before he returned his attention to his dad.

  Never in a million years could she imagine a strong guy like Bryce Morgan needing her for support.

  “Eric didn’t account for the expense of the remodel. The restaurant’s failing because I neglected to keep an eye on the books.” Bryce hung his head. “I fucked up.”

  “Yeah, and you royally messed up more by fooling around with my stepdaughter. Admit it, you used her,” Levi said.

  Bryce avoided her eyes.

  Levi tipped his head at Bryce. “Your neighbor here has been repeatedly emailing my office asking for a meeting to discuss a sponsorship. I don’t need my company’s name on a damn dirt bike.”

  Bryce shot out of his seat. “Not a damn dirt bike, but my career, my life.”

  Bryce’s dad put a hand on Bryce’s shoulder. “Sit down, son. We talk this through like adults.”

  Levi glanced from Mr. Morgan to Bryce. There was no fear in Levi’s eyes. He stood as tall as the father and son. “You couldn’t get to me, so you got close to my stepdaughter, hoping you’d get an easy in.”

  He got an easy in all right. Into her pants. Bryce slumped in his chair.

  “Is what Levi saying true, Bryce?” She gripped the table’s edge.

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t hesitate, and she couldn’t breathe. Lucy stood and gulped in air.

  Bryce shoved back his chair and pulled her into his arms. “But only about the emails, Lucy.”

  “My journal?”

  “I was going to use it to bribe my way into a meeting with your stepdad.”

  She tried to wrench out of his arms. He held onto her. Desperation lined his next words.

  “I realized it was low of me. I couldn’t go through with it.”

  Not true. She remembered their conversation.

  You run the show. Whatever you want, I’ll give you.

  My journal.

  Fine, but I want something in return. Let me be the one who shows you what passion is.

  “The proposition?” she whispered into his shirt, needing to understand his intentions toward her.

  “Was all about you and me. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  “Friends?” One more chance to give her Bryce a way out.

  “No, not friends, but my heart.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. Near perfect. What he’d said brought them closer to “I love you.” She now understood what she needed to do. Holding tight to Bryce’s hand, she faced Levi and Mr. Morgan.

  “My grandmother . . .” Lucy took a deep breath. She’d learned so much about love and life after her grandmother’s death. “My grandmother left me a large inheritance.”

  She directed her gaze to Mr. Morgan. “Your son is a good man who only wants you to accept him for what he is, a champion in and off the tracks. His workers adore him.” She set her hand above her heart. “His friends love him. I—” Her voice faltered. “I’ve seen the scars on his body. He’s done enough for you, for him. It’s time he moves on with the next part of his life—the restaurant.” She anchored her body to Bryce’s and reaching up, she palmed his face. “Whatever money you need, I’ll gladly give you.”

  He turned into her touch. “No, Lucy, love.” He squeezed her hip. “I appreciate it, darling,” he said in that fake southern accent of his she found thoroughly sexy. “I got myself in this mess. I’ll find a way out of it.”

  She smiled. “Fair enough.”

  * * *

  If Lucy’s stepdad and Bryce’s father weren’t in his place right now with their chests puffed out, Bryce would take Lucy to his room, and do everything he could to make the rest of her day better.

  As though the men realized where Bryce’s thoughts were wandering to, they cleared their throats and said they should be leaving.

  “Shit, I think I need me a drink,” Levi said. “You and your sisters are going to be the death of me.” He stood.

  Bryce’s dad came over and slapped Levi on the shoulder. “I know of a fine place. How about stopping by the Grill with me?”

  His father winked at Lucy. Damn. His father liked Lucy. He resisted the impulse to do a fist pump. Levi and his dad started to leave.

  “Dad, the restaurant, my employees . . . I have a plan. I’ll sell my newer dirt bikes.” Bryce knew riders who were willing to part with large sums of cash for his custom bikes. Yep, after years on the racing circuit, Bryce still got what it took to equip his rides to the hilt with the best and latest gadgets. He’d kept his modifications within standards and . . . they were legal.

  Taking Bryce by surprise, his father came over and man-hugged him. “I’m proud of you for taking responsibility for your mistakes.” He clasped Bryce’s face in his calloused palms. “You’ve done enough damage to your body over the years.” His father let go of him and ran his hand over his balding head of hair. “It’s time to give the racing a rest.” He glanced from Bryce to Lucy. “No pressure, missy, but someday my son here is going to want kids of his own. That’s what I want for him, a family.”

  A family. Sons, daughters. He squeezed Lucy’s hand. She squeezed back.

  “I’ll catch up to you later, Dad.”

  Levi and his dad left. Their laughter hung in the air before the door closed behind them.

  “Wow,” Lucy said. “I think they like one another.”

  He led her to the couch. She straddled him. He had to know something before they went any further.

  “What happened when you went home to Palm Springs? You came back changed.”

  Her eyes watered. She traced a finger over his brows, one after the other. Suddenly, he wanted to take back his words. Lucy had gone through enough today without having to relive her grandmother’s death.

&
nbsp; “I’m sorry, Lucy, I shouldn’t have asked.”

  * * *

  Lucy shook her head. “I need to talk about it.” She stroked the side of his handsome face. “You’re the right one to tell this to.” He nodded.

  Seconds passed. How to put her thoughts into words? It was easy to do on paper or on canvas. Sighing, she leaned in and rubbed her nose on his.

  “After my grandmother passed, I went to see my mom. No one was home.” She fluttered her lashes onto his cheek. “It was the story of my life. When I needed someone the most, no one was around.”

  Inching back from him, she began to unbutton Bryce’s shirt. “I realized I was at fault. Except for my time with my grandparents, I kept to myself. I let my mother’s words and other people’s opinions hold me back.” She shrugged. “In a way, I lived up to their expectation that I wasn’t good enough or pretty enough or outgoing enough.”

  Lucy pressed her lips to his. She felt so safe with him. He opened for her and kissed her with a tenderness that left her breathless. Tearing her mouth away, she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans.

  “I decided I wanted a different story, my story.”

  Bryce halted her undressing of him with a hand over hers. “Darling, after what you’ve been through—”

  “I want this. I want you.” She got off him, stood and stripped off her clothes. His smoldering gaze traveled the length of her and back to her face again. Lucy flushed. She hoped never to stop blushing from his open perusal of her.

  “I’m not perfect.” Naked, she tipped her chin at him. “I don’t want to be.”

  Without breaking eye-contact, Bryce stood and also stripped off his clothes. Grasping her hand, he tugged her to him. “I didn’t say I wanted perfect,” he whispered in her ear. “Near perfect was always good enough. I love you, Lucy Badeaux.”

  Her heart soared. “And I love you, Bryce Morgan.” She lifted her lips to his. With her body against his, his mouth over hers . . . Lucy closed her eyes. Yes, this was near perfect, as close to heaven as she could possibly get.

 

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