“I’m a little color blind, so I’m relying on your help, Ally.”
Ally’s chin lifted. “I hope so.”
A thick wall of tears kept Lana from seeing much more as Lucky ushered her to the truck. Lana waved in the direction of her family as they pulled away. When she felt like they were out of sight, she turned her face to the window and let the tears fall. She didn’t want Lucky seeing her cry again.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You can go see them any time, Lana. I just live five minutes away.”
“I don’t have a car.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe we should go get you something. I can’t afford anything brand new, but I’ve saved up enough to afford something reliable. How do you feel about that?”
Lana swiped at the tears and sniffed. “I don’t know.”
“I work a lot of long hours at the station. I don’t want you to have to pick me up in the middle of the night. I’d also like for you to feel like you can go anywhere or do anything whenever you want.”
Tears blurred her vision again. He was saying all the right things and doing all the right things. She was just ready for the ball to drop and for him to start making demands. No one could be as nice as he seemed to be.
“Thank you,” she managed.
The warmth of his hand encircled hers and he entwined their fingers. For a moment, she allowed herself to enjoy his touch and the way his thumb smoothed her skin. But she casually pulled away when they parked in the driveway of his home, a modest white Cape Cod style house with a picket fence and black shutters. It was everything she wouldn’t have expected from him, but thinking on it, it seemed perfect.
“It’s a beautiful home,” she muttered.
“It’s your home now, too. Come on, I’ll give you a quick tour.”
Together they got out and Lucky took her hand again, leading her to the front door. He opened it and bent, scooping her up in one fluid motion. Lana squealed when she realized what he was doing.
“Isn’t there some tradition that I’m supposed to carry you over the threshold after we get married?”
“I think so, but it’s not necessary.”
“Sure it is. I really don’t want any bad luck.”
Lana could certainly agree. He set her down and steadied her, rubbing his hands together.
“This is the living room.”
“And there’s the flat screen.”
“Yup. Just through those double doors is the kitchen. Dining room here,” he pointed behind them. “Down the hallway here are the bedrooms. Bathroom is the first door on the left.” He led the way and flipped on all the lights of each room. Three bedrooms in all, counting his.
“Which one would you like to call dibs on?” He looked at her through hooded lashes and she could tell from his guarded expression he really wanted her to choose his bedroom. Could she trust him to keep his hands off? Did she want to trust him to do that?
He’d made a valid point when she said they’d have to appear to be married.
“I’ll keep my things in your room. I don’t want to cause suspicion if people stop by.”
“Sure.”
She wasn’t fooled by his careless shrug or easy dismissal of their conversation. It might not be the answer he’d hoped for, but it definitely pleased him that she tried. She could see it in his smile. Rolling her things into his room, he pulled the suitcase on the bed.
“I didn’t have time to make room for your things before I left, so feel free to do whatever needs to be done. Would you like me to help?”
“No.” Something about the thought of Lucky going through her skimpies didn’t appeal to her.
“Have at it. I was thinking about going into the station for a few hours this afternoon to head off any Monday morning disasters. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. I’ve got my work cut out for me here.”
He frowned. “I’m pretty sure you just insulted me.”
Lana laughed. “I’ll see you in a little while. I’ll try to have some dinner ready by the time you get home.”
“Thanks.”
Lana didn’t fully relax until she heard the growl of his truck and the crunch of gravel as he left. Then she started working on rearranging the closet to fit her things inside. It was a tight squeeze – the man had more clothes than she did, but she made everything fit.
Taking a step back, she surveyed her handiwork. Not too bad for only an hour of work. She hadn’t tackled the drawers yet, but the burst of energy she felt kept her moving. By the time everything was neatly put away, the energy bubble had turned into a black hole. She was exhausted.
She moved into the kitchen and tried to figure out exactly what to cook for dinner. There were pork chops in the freezer and she found veggies and potatoes in the pantry. She’d play the part of the good wife and cook her man some food.
But the ache inside of her ran deeper and deeper with each passing hour.
Chapter Eleven
Sirens blared. Lights flashed. Adrenaline rushed.
Lucky chased hot on the tail of a white Honda.
“Pull over now or I’ll shoot your tires,” Lucky announced over his loud speaker.
Lucky had the vague sense of déjà vu come over him but he shook it off and tried to focus. Abruptly, the red brake lights lit up, and before he knew it, a little old man streaked across the street into the ditch at an impossible speed.
Not again.
Lucky was out of his car as fast as he could manage.
“Mr. Roche?” Lucky called, keeping his hands on his holster just in case it wasn’t him.
“Arrest me if you want to, Sheriff, but I couldn’t risk it!” Mr. Roche called, backing away from the car like an ax murderer was inside.
“What’s going on, sir?”
“It was gonna get me!”
For a brief moment, Lucky wondered if Lana had considered having her father checked for dementia, but he tucked the thought away.
“What was going to get you?”
“The bee!”
“Bee?”
Fear kept Mr. Roche’s eyes wide and his aged hands trembled as he pointed to his car.
“There was a bee in my car!”
Lucky held his hands up in a calming motion. “A bee doesn’t give you the right to swerve all over the road and speed.”
“Sure it does!”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“I’m highly allergic, Sheriff. If that bee had tagged me, I would have done a lot more than speed or swerve. I would have passed out at the wheel and gone through somebody’s house!”
Through narrowed eyes, Lucky debated whether the old man was telling the truth. “Care if I have a look?”
“Go right ahead,” Mr. Roche agreed. In fact, he looked a little eager for Lucky to go.
Lucky approached the vehicle as he did any other. With caution. He was pretty sure he looked like a moron and was equally sure that the hand still resting on his holster couldn’t draw a gun and aim good enough to take a bee out. He was a good marksman, but not that good.
He opened the back door of the Honda and stooped in to have a look. Before he could dodge, a bumble bee came swarming straight for him. He swatted at it out of instinct but the bumble bee caught him and put its stinger right between his pinky and third finger.
Lucky tried to straighten too soon and hit his head on the doorframe of the car. Stumbling, he could have sworn he saw stars for a moment before being able to focus on getting the stinger out.
“Did he get you?” Mr. Roche called out from across the street.
“Yup. It’s safe now. His stinger is officially in my hand.” Lucky gritted his teeth against the pain and pulled out the tiny little stinger. “At least he’s dead now,” he muttered.
Mr. Roche carefully made his way back across the street. “Thank you, Sheriff. I hate to say it, but better you than me.”
“Good thing I’m not allergic,” Lucky said.
“Good thing.”
Lucky bit back a grin at the man’s dramatics. “Get outta here. But slow it down, okay?”
Mr. Roche nodded and then said, “Give Lana a kiss from me.”
There was a second there that Lucky was certain he saw a glint in the man’s eye just before he pulled away.
Shaking away the thought, Lucky put some pressure on the sting and got behind the wheel of his car. He had been on his way home when he’d spotted the speeding Honda. Now, he was ignoring anyone else and going home to his wife.
Two months had passed since he and Lana had gotten married. They’d fallen into a nice rhythm and he was successfully keeping his distance from her. It wasn’t easy, but he reminded himself each night when she pulled down the covers of the bed in his spare bedroom that it was for the best. Sleeping with her could only cause trouble.
Lana was definitely beginning to show now. The ultrasound a couple of weeks ago had confirmed that the baby was, indeed, a girl, and Lana had too much fun gloating about how she’d known all along. Her sister practically lived with them these days, helping Lana construct the nursery.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt left out. The baby wasn’t his and he didn’t want to take anything away from Lana, but considering the turn of events in his life over the last couple of months, it might be his only shot at experiencing the arrival of a baby.
Lucky knew, after accidentally overhearing an argument between Lana and Ally, that Ally was supplying Lana with her babysitting money to make the bedding and curtains for the nursery. He felt a tad bit guilty and betrayed that she felt she couldn’t come to him for money. He held no qualms about sharing with her. She was his wife after all. Maybe he’d been a little too absent lately.
Lana hadn’t asked him yet about buying a crib set. Maybe he’d take the initiative and buy one. But he didn’t want to risk getting something she might not like. Instead, he decided he’d seek out Ally for advice. Praying she could keep a secret, he dialed her home number and was pleased when she answered on the third ring and wasn’t hovering at his house for the millionth night in a row.
A few moments later, Lucky was armed with knowledge, and he decided he’d get the one thing she would never expect from him.
A bounce lit his step as he exited his patrol car and walked inside his house. Lana had been burning that apple-scented candle again and his stomach growled. If she kept feeding him so well, he would find out for sure if she could live with a fat guy. He didn’t want to discourage her because she was eating for two. Part of the reason he hadn’t lost weight during the high school years was because he had no self-control. Since Lana had stocked his fridge with ice cream and prepared him fatty steaks and meat constantly, he’d noticed the way his uniform was getting snug. Eventually, he’d need to talk to her about it.
“Honey, I’m home,” he called light-heartedly.
“Hi,” Lana answered, poking her head around the doorframe of the nursery and waving. She spent most of her time there. Did it mean she was bonding with the idea of a baby?
Walking to the room, he leaned his shoulder against the door and surveyed her work.
“What do you think?” she asked, a girlish excitement rounding her eyes.
Lucky took his time taking in the sweet lavender walls, the pink, lavender, and cream bed covering draped across a rocker. It was definitely a little girl’s dream come true, and he told her so.
She beamed at his approval. Then her eyes went wide. “Oh, Lucky! I’m sorry, I forgot about dinner! I’ll whip something up really quick; you must be starving.”
Lucky caught her wrist as she whizzed past him and pulled her back into her arms.
“I missed you today,” he said, surprising himself at the honesty of his words.
She hesitated for a moment, but then her lips quirked. “I missed you, too.”
“You’re gonna be a wonderful mother,” he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and resting his hand on her shoulder.
When Lana looked away, he could see she doubted herself.
“I mean it. You’ll be the best.”
“The rocker over there in the corner is the one my mother used to rock me and Ally to sleep. Daddy brought it over today and said I could have it.”
“How sweet.” Then, speaking of her father, he asked, “Out of curiosity, is your dad allergic to bees?”
“Deathly. He almost died once. Why?”
Lucky shook his head in amazement and chuckled. “No reason.”
“Okay, let me get something cooking.” She tried to tug away from him but he held her close.
“I’ll just have a salad tonight, Lana.”
Catching his train of thought, she covered her open mouth with her hand and dropped her forehead against his check.
“I’m so sorry, Lucky. It never even dawned on me to watch what I cooked.”
“It’s okay. I’ve been working out during my lunch break at the station.”
“But still. Why didn’t you remind me?”
He shrugged and smiled. “I happen to like your cooking.”
“No, you didn’t want to hurt my feelings by reminding me.”
Lucky’s smile widened. “True.”
“Next time, remind me, okay?” she asked him with pleading eyes. He wanted to protect his heart and tell himself she wanted him to remind her because she couldn’t live with him fat. But one look at her tender gaze and he knew she wanted a reminder because she cared about him.
When had that happened? Hadn’t he been working to keep this very thing from occurring? But the part that bothered him most was he knew that look was echoed in his own gaze despite his efforts to the contrary. More and more, he wanted to make her look at him the way she was right now. It made him feel good to know he could do that.
“One salad, coming right up,” she quickly said and tried once more to move away. Instead, he lowered his lips and claimed hers in a sweet, leisurely kiss. She didn’t try to pull away or hesitate when he came near. He loved the fact she stood on her tiptoes so their bodies pressed together more intimately.
When had she so eagerly accepted his kisses? Lucky tried to think back over the last couple of months to when the change had happened, but nothing stood out in his mind. He hadn’t tried to avoid her all the time, just the times when he had felt especially needy, and he felt he might try to press her for something more than she wanted to give. Living with a beautiful woman wasn’t easy.
“Lucky?”
“Mmm?”
“Do you think…?”
Pulling back, he studied her face. Trepidation filled every pore.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s been more than two months…”
Dear heavens, was she saying what he thought she was saying?
“Go on,” he urged.
“I just thought that we … that you and I could …”
“What, Lana?”
“I thought maybe I could sleep in your bedroom tonight.”
Lucky had to swallow down the pure physical reaction her words brought. Then he had to pipe down the excitement he felt that she’d finally come to trust him. After that, he realized this was exactly the kind of thing he’d tried to avoid for two months.
“I … um …” Lucky stuttered.
“Forget I said anything,” she shot out quickly and evaded his grasp to keep her there. He followed her into the kitchen.
“Lana,” he began, but she ignored him. “Lana, it’s not that I don’t want you there.”
“I said forget it. It was stupid idea anyway.”
“Well, I happen to think that it’s the best one you’ve had in a long time. But I’m just afraid that you might get the wrong impression if we do.”
“What?” She whirled around, wielding a knife in his general direction. “You t
hink I’m going to forget this is just a marriage of convenience? That I threw away what little future I had when I married you? You think I could forget that?”
“No, I-”
But she wouldn’t be stopped. It was like she’d been uncorked and the words were spewing forth.
“I’ve slaved for over two months at this house trying to keep you happy and keep a low profile. Don’t think I’m not aware that everyone is still talking about us. I haven’t even gone out to eat since I moved here because I don’t want to risk your reputation any more than you already have. I should have known that you’d never want to sleep with me because you wanted me. If you ever do succeed in getting me into bed, it’ll be on your terms, won’t it, Sheriff? It’ll be to brand me as yours so that if James ever does come looking, he’ll know that you’ve touched me the same way he did.”
“No, that’s not it, Lana!”
“Isn’t it?” She turned away from him and chopped the lettuce so fast it made his head spin. “You’re just waiting until the right time so that I’m healed enough that I won’t think about James. Then, after you’re done using me, you’ll move on to someone else.”
“I’m not using you.”
“Aren’t you? Isn’t that why you wanted to marry me in the first place? Your sick need to prove to yourself and to my ex-husband you can land the prom queen after all?”
Lucky’s jaw dropped. Anger flashed in his line of vision like lightning bolts. He knew if he said anything, he’d regret it later. He bit down on his cheeks until he tasted blood. He wouldn’t justify her thoughts with an answer, no matter how dead on they were.
Tossing the knife into the sink, she glared at him. “Fix your own salad, Fat Jack.”
He dared her to say one more word. He glowered and trembled with anger from hearing that name again after all these years. She was on thin ice, yet she stood there, hips against the sink and her arms crossed underneath her ample breasts, daring him in return with a casual raise of her eyebrows.
She was so beautiful when her eyes flashed that way. That thought alone sent his blood pressure into a dangerous state. He did not want to think about how pretty she was when he was this angry. It hardly seemed fair.
Lucky for Her Page 11
