“Ready?” he asked with a smile.
She nodded and moved to give her family a hug. She would need those hugs and love to get her through whatever was to come with Lucky. She didn’t know the first thing about being a sheriff’s wife, except society probably wanted her to be seen and not heard. But, she’d had plenty of experience with that.
Lucky placed his hand on the small of her back and led her out of the house. Once inside his truck, Lucky smiled. Lana didn’t feel like smiling.
“Would you feel more at home with me if I asked you to get me a beer and make me a sandwich?”
A gasp escaped her lips. “What did Daddy tell you?”
“Nothing I didn’t already know.”
“Don’t bring that up again.”
“What?”
“What you just said. Don’t ever say that to me again.”
“Sure … on one condition.”
Lana inhaled deeply and waited for the punch line.
“Give me a kiss. Our wedding kiss was less than what I give my Uncle Earl at Christmas time.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t kiss you. This is just business, remember?” A panicked feeling blanketed over Lana and she gripped the side of the seat to keep him from seeing her trembling hands.
“Kissing is serious business in my book.”
“Of course it is for you. You’re a man.”
“Hey, I resemble that comment. But seriously. I just want a kiss from my wife.”
Lana bit her bottom lip. She knew what he was trying to do. It was their wedding night, and he expected things from her.
“I’m your wife in name only.”
His warm palm settled over her stomach, and he drew closer. “That’s not what the townspeople think.”
“I don’t care what they think.”
“We have to keep up appearances or things will look suspicious, don’t you think?”
She hadn’t thought of that. And didn’t want to. His palm, now rubbing her stomach and his grin full of confidence, caused the edges of her thoughts to blur. Lana rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes.
Big mistake. Before she could gain control over her libido, his hot, searching mouth claimed hers. And, heaven help her, she kissed him back.
The hand that had been eliciting delicious thoughts rose to her jaw, and his thumb traced just below her cheek. He bit at her bottom lip and then sucked gently. She barely recognized the sounds coming from her throat: needy, embarrassing sounds that caused her to pull away.
But Lucky just followed her. He didn’t press her for anything more than she was ready to give. Just slight nips and sweet kisses on her mouth was all he gave her and that alone was enough to make her groan in frustration. But she caught herself in time and just as he pulled away.
“Now, was that so bad?” he asked with darkened eyes. His breathing was labored although she could tell from his pressed lips he worked hard to hide it.
“I’m still alive, for now.”
“Do I need to do it again so you can make sure?” He leaned in again and she pushed at his chest.
“No, I’m sure. I survived.”
“Good. Something tells me you’ll survive the next time, too. Who knows? You might even like it.”
And that was exactly what Lana feared most.
Chapter Eight
The cabin turned out to be nicer than what she’d expected. She’d envisioned a cheaply decorated cabin that smelled like a smoke stack.
Instead, the walls were made of warmly stained logs, pleasant pictures lined the walls, and the kitchen sported stainless steel counter tops and appliances. Her thoughts showed on her face, and Lucky chuckled.
“Did you think that I would bring you somewhere cheap?”
Lana lifted a shoulder. Her eyes drew to the huge vase filled with wildflowers. Lucky’s gaze followed hers.
“It’s not every day I bring my wife here on a honeymoon. I hope you like them.”
“They’re beautiful.” Lana pinned him with a look. Everything about this moment confused her. Flowers. A beautiful cabin. A honeymoon. “You’re acting like this is real.”
“It’s as real as it gets, Lana.”
“On paper.”
He licked his lips and shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Look, I’ve said it a million times; we don’t have to define this. I’m happy just being your friend.”
Lana didn’t believe him. She tore her gaze away from his and smelled a flower. It was an exotic scent of honeysuckle and summertime. Biting her lip, she ambled away from the flowers while Lucky set about unloading their luggage from the back of his truck.
The cabin really was a cozy little place. She went toward the back and saw a bathroom, quite modern and sleek. But a foreboding fell over her when she only saw one other door.
Only one bedroom.
Now everything, the flowers, the kisses, the kind words, made sense. He was trying to seduce her. The jerk. He really wouldn’t stop at anything until he had proven to himself he was good enough for her.
She’d show him.
Storming back to the kitchen, she tapped her foot against the ceramic tile until he walked back in.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” she demanded.
Placing their bags on the floor, he stood straight. She didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that just his presence alone dominated the room.
“Notice what?”
He seemed so innocent, so docile. Lucky was good at his game.
“There’s only one bedroom. Did you bring your handcuffs, too?”
Taking a step forward, his piercing look told her he hadn’t missed a thing. “As a matter of fact, I did.”
She held out her wrists. “Cuff me. Let’s get this over with.”
Before she registered his intentions, she was pinned against the kitchen island. Lucky’s hard body pressed against hers, but the tender look on his face contradicted everything about his abrupt behavior.
“I’m not James. Get that through your head right now,” he ordered. The stern tone in his voice left no room for argument. Then, with a masterful twist of her arm, he exerted just enough pressure to make her walk, much like she suspected he would a prisoner. Lana’s heart pounded when she realized he led her to the bedroom.
“Wh…What are you doing?”
“Isn’t this what you wanted me to do? You said let’s get this over with. I’m just getting it over with.”
“I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what? Didn’t mean it? I don’t work that way, Lana. You say what you mean and mean what you say with me, do you understand?” His body jerked angrily, his actions quick and fluid. He was certainly good at his job. Even though she kicked at him, pushed and bit, he dodged all of her tactics and had one hand handcuffed to the headboard in less than thirty seconds. His face loomed before her. “Do you understand?” he repeated.
She thought about spitting in his face. Then she realized she was at the disadvantage, and it wouldn’t benefit her to anger him more.
“Yes, sir,” she said as sharply as she could. If her right hand hadn’t been handcuffed, she would have saluted.
Slowly, he pushed away from the bed and narrowed his eyes at her.
“Now what?”
Since Lana didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, she said nothing.
“Am I supposed to rape you? Leave you here and make you beg for freedom? Tell me, Lana, what am I supposed to do since we’re all alike?”
Lana tugged at the handcuffs. “When you let me go, I’m going to-”
“What? What are you gonna do?”
She squealed in frustration and tugged again. She knew she wouldn’t do a thing. Except maybe drive back to her daddy’s house and bury herself in her bed and cry. She was pathetic. The fight left her, and she slumped back against the pillows.
A slow smile lifted his lips and as if he were a cat trying to catch its prey, he craw
led onto the bed and straddled her. She was humiliated. What a wonderful way to start a marriage. History repeating itself all over again.
“Look at me,” he ordered. He had a special command in his voice that wouldn’t allow her to disobey. When she did, her breath hitched and she could only stare. He was so beautiful with his chiseled jaw and slightly cleft chin. His brown eyes bore into hers.
“I’m only going to say this once, so listen closely, Lana,” he whispered, lowering his lips to graze over hers as he spoke. “Instead of everything being physical between us and me getting my kicks taking advantage of someone a lot smaller than me, I just wanted to be nice with the flowers. And instead of having ulterior motives, I gave you my grandmother’s rings because I wanted to. I’ll even admit that it was a hard decision, but I decided it was the right one.”
“Get off me,” she managed, though her voice sounded weak.
“And maybe,” he said, ignoring her, as his lips trailed a soft path to her ear, “when I make love to you – and let there be no doubt that I will make love to you – I want you to be a willing participant. That way I can show you the way a real man loves his woman.” His lips suckled on her ear lobe and stirred her lower half to life.
“Don’t touch me,” she ground out, but her body betrayed her and pushed against his.
“When I touch you, Lana – and that’s when, not if – you’re going to beg me for more. In fact, you might just want to keep me around.” His hands trailed down her arms and she wiggled when his light touch tickled her. His grin widened.
“I don’t beg,” she assured him with a slight lift of her chin.
“But you will.” The confidence in his statement left her reeling. So much so, she didn’t realize he was gone until she heard the front door slam shut.
Beside her lay a silver key.
*****
When Lucky returned to the cabin, a heavenly aroma assailed him. He looked across to the kitchen and saw Lana standing there wielding a spatula. Her eyes were puffy, as if she’d been crying. Again.
Lucky hated to think that he’d caused her to cry, but the measures he was taking with her felt necessary. Her father had warned him earlier that day that slow and steady would win the race with Lana. Lucky felt blessed that her father had enough confidence in him to offer some advice.
Lana took her time turning around to face him. When she did, she took the two flutes of sparkling cider and offered him one. Keeping her gaze averted, she said quietly, “I haven’t been fair to you, Lucky. I’m…I’m sorry.”
He took the glass from her, making sure his fingers grazed hers.
“Is this your attempt to make me happy now?”
Her eyes closed and her lips pressed together in a thin line.
“No, it’s not. This is me trying to look beyond my past experiences and call a truce.”
“A truce.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. A truce meant lowered defenses, and he was too susceptible to her for that.
“Yes.”
Carefully, he sipped his cider as he studied her. The vulnerability in her eyes cracked his façade as she looked up to him. He swallowed.
With a flip of her hair, Lana turned back to the stove.
“So, I cooked spaghetti. I hope you like it. I realized after you left, I had no idea what kind of food you like.”
“Spaghetti is fine.”
He noticed for the first time that music played softly in the background. She hummed under her breath.
For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. His wife stood in the kitchen cooking him dinner with her normally flat stomach just starting to bulge from the baby. Their first night as man and wife would be gone with the sunrise. She’d all but admitted she wanted a nice wedding, not some quick jaunt to the local courthouse. Yet, here he stood, knowing he was the cause of her tears and taking away even more of her dreams.
Before he gave himself a chance to think about it, he set the glass down and walked up behind her. He lifted her hair and scooped it to the side, over her shoulder.
Planting a gentle kiss on her shoulder, he whispered, “Dance with me.”
There was one thing he could bank on between them and that was their attraction. He would use it to his benefit to help her see that he wasn’t the monster she wanted to believe he was. In the meantime, it would help her get used to his touch and accept it.
“Friends, Lucky. Remember?”
“Friends can dance. I even danced with my cousin Bertha at my prom.”
She gave the giggle he’d hoped for. “An uncle Earl and cousin Bertha. Should I be worried about what you’ll want to name this baby?”
His heart lurched at the thought. “I don’t have a cousin Bertha.” Urging her to turn, he slid his palms under her rib cage and around to the small of her back. His body involuntarily sought refuge in hers. They pressed together so closely he could feel the gentle rise and fall of her belly against his.
“I…I don’t know how to dance,” she whispered.
“Fake it.” Trying desperately to control his emotions and tamper down his need for her, he didn’t want to scare her away before she knew how good things could be.
“Is that what you tell all of your women?”
For a second, he didn’t follow her then he nodded his approval. “A joke. Nicely done, Lana. But just so you know, my women don’t have to fake anything.”
Her eyelashes lowered as her gaze transfixed to his mouth. He loved the way she bit her bottom lip when she was tempted to do something out of character.
“Do it,” he urged.
“Do what?”
“I know you want to kiss me.”
“I do not,” she scoffed.
He just gave her a grin and shuffled his feet. “You know,” he began, trying his best to calm down her racing heart. “A little kiss here and there is okay. You can try me on for size if you think it would help.”
Lana gave him a soft giggle. “Lucky, all we’ve talked about our entire marriage has been sex. Don’t you think if we’re going to succeed in our truce we should find something else to talk about?”
“That’s probably a good idea.” But his brain had headed south, and he would have to leave it up to her to make the small talk.
“So what kind of food do you like?”
“Spaghetti.”
“I’m serious.”
“I am, too. I love Italian. And Mexican. And Chinese. And-”
“I get it,” she cut him off with another giggle. “What’s your favorite?”
“Hmm. Probably salad. I have to live like a rabbit if I want to maintain my good looks.”
“Do you get to indulge at all?”
“Sure. I have an occasional piece of pie or cake. Mrs. Whitfield keeps me supplied with chocolate chip cookies.”
“She’s a sweet old lady.”
“I saved her fifteen year old cat from a near-death experience with a power line once.”
“I thought firemen had to do that.”
Shrugging, he said, “What can I say? I’m a jack of all trades.”
Silence fell. Guilt ate at him again. Any time he was silent for a stretch, he wasn’t able to stop thinking about how he’d hijacked her only chance at a nice wedding.
“Do you think when we get back you’d like to have a reception with some friends and family?”
Her eyes sparkled. “If you want.”
“But what do you want?”
“I don’t think we have much to celebrate.”
“Maybe not, but it would be a good idea to have everyone together and announce the baby. That way if James keeps in touch with any of his old buddies, things wouldn’t seem too suspicious.”
Lana seemed to consider that. While she did so, her fingers toyed absently with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Maybe. I’ll have to think about it.”
“Sure.” As the song playing on the radio came to a close, Lucky spun her around and came in for a dramatic dip. With a squeal, he f
ollowed her down as her hands clutched at his shirt.
“Let me up!” she piped.
He gave her a quick kiss on the tip of the nose and settled her upright on her feet again.
“Let’s eat. I’m hungry,” he announced, turning away from her so she wouldn’t see the evidence of her nearness.
“Yes. Me, too.”
Lana busied herself preparing their plates, and he took it upon himself to set the table. She was humming again, a sure sign that their friendship was on the mend. His mother always hummed when she was happy. Lucky couldn’t go as far as to say Lana was happy, but perhaps the bridge was being built one small step at a time.
He glanced up and saw her studying him. A brilliant smile lit her features and she turned back to their dinner. The tight knot in his gut twisted.
Lucky wasn’t just hungry. He was starved.
Chapter Nine
True to his word, Lucky slept on the couch and Lana slept in the bed. It wasn’t the most traditional of honeymoon nights, but somehow it was perfect. She didn’t want to get emotional and say she appreciated his thoughtfulness with the flowers and the dancing, but she did. Somehow, she could sense that he regretted not giving her a bigger wedding. Maybe he was over-compensating for it with his tenderness and his slow seduction, but she knew they were both going to go up in flames soon.
One sure thing to douse the flames, however, was the thought of James. Hadn’t it been just like this with him? They hadn’t been able to keep their hands to themselves in high school, let alone right after they were married.
It was all just a passing fancy. Soon, Lucky would bore of the cat and mouse game and move on to greener pastures. She knew from the party and the lunch date with him that women loved a man in uniform and that uniform combined with Lucky’s good looks packed a powerful punch.
Quickly showering, she padded out to the kitchen and met Lucky. He gave her a wink after he sent her an approving once over.
“Morning, wife,” he said huskily. “How did you sleep?”
“Pretty good, actually. You?”
Lucky snorted.
“What do you think? A lumpy mattress is no comparison when I could have woken up next to a warm, soft …”
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