“Lucas, hi,” she says, and her voice sounds funny. Like she’s nervous about something. She glances at me anxiously and I frown at her, wondering what’s up. And then I remember our argument from last night and I wonder if that has anything to do with it.
“Um … yeah. Well, he was but … it’s okay,” she says, still eyeing me speculatively. My frown gets deeper. “No, sure. We’re still on,” she tries to assure him but, I can tell she’s not so sure herself. “Oh, just … same as me, bottled water or Corona,” she shrugs. They say a quick goodbye and she hangs up.
“What was that about?” I ask her, still frowning slightly.
“It was Lucas,” she says, stating the obvious. “He wanted to make sure we were still on for the game today because you were so upset when we left last night. He thought maybe you might want to cancel.” She’s looking at me with anxious, worried eyes and waiting on a response from me.
“We don’t have to cancel unless you want to, Sam,” I answer quietly.
“Josh … I get that you don’t think Lucas is being sincere but…,”
“Look, Sam … what I said about Lucas last night,” I begin, looking her in the eye. “I was angry, baby. And scared. But the truth is … Lucas has been pretty decent to me. And I know you’re right, that he does want to get to know me because he cares about you.”
“So, you’re okay with going today?”
“Yes, baby.” She smiles at me and places both hands on either side of my face, and kisses me soundly.
“You’ll see. By next week, you’re going to be best friends,” she beams at me and she is just so cute!
“Really? Best friends, huh?”
“Uh huh,” she giggles.
“Next week?” I ask, and she nods eagerly at me, grinning from ear to ear, and I smirk at her. “We gonna buy matching Seahawks t-shirts and go to all the games together?”
“Yes! And paint each other’s toenails and do each other’s hair!” She’s giggling hysterically at her own joke and I can’t help but smile at her.
“You are a nut,” I exclaim, taking her into my arms again and proceeding to tickle her mercilessly while she squirms and laughs and struggles to take a breath. I stop abruptly and kiss her, and I get lost in her eyes for a moment as she caresses my face. And I wonder again, for the hundredth time, what this goddess is doing here with me.
“Don’t say it,” she whispers, still caressing my face, and I frown slightly at her. “Promise me, Josh. Promise me you’ll stop asking why I’m with you.” I stare at her in disbelief for a second. How did she know what I was thinking? “Promise,” she whispers again.
“I … I’ll try,” I say softly. It’s the best I can do, and she smiles softly at me and kisses me. And soon we’re lost in each other, making love again, slowly and rhythmically, passionately connecting and reconnecting…
*****
I pull Samantha’s Maserati into the reserved parking area of the CenturyLink Field stadium and find an open spot. It’s a sweet ride, handles like a dream. I could definitely get used to it! Getting out of the car we walk toward the stadium, and Sam takes my hand and leads me away from the huge bottleneck at the main entrance, and over to the private entrance that’s reserved for suite owners instead. Of course there would be a private entrance, Pierce!
We stand waiting for the elevator to take us up to the suite level and I glance around at the other faces waiting with us, and I can’t help but wonder what they each do for a living. And then I roll my eyes at myself and sigh because I know I’m being a jerk again, just like I was last night. Sam’s right, the money is my problem. And it’s one that I have got to learn to get over if I want to keep her in my life.
I let go of her hand and wrap my arm around her as she stands, looking intently at her cellphone. She slips her free hand into the back pocket of my jeans and leans slightly into me, but she keeps texting away, and I smile at her.
“What’s so engrossing?”
“Megan,” she answers, smiling up at me.
“She’s texting you on her honeymoon?”
“Yes, she’s so sweet. She said she was worried about me; she wanted to make sure I was okay after the stunt Mom pulled last night. And she said to tell you ‘hi.’”
I smirk at her and kiss her temple as she finishes up her text and puts her phone away in her purse. She looks like the little fashion plate that she is in a pair of form-fitting jeans with a wide cuff that show off her sexy calves, and one of my Seahawks t-shirts that she’s tied in a knot at the side of her hip. A navy blue cardigan sweater and a pair of sky-high, Seahawk neon green heels complete her look.
“Are you smirking at me, Detective?” she asks with narrowing eyes.
“Nope,” I chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” she demands to know.
“You,” I say, kissing her temple once more before we step into the waiting elevator. “Only you would wear four-inch heels to a football game.”
“Are you complaining about my four-inch heels?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh, no,” I respond honestly, looking her in the eye. “I like your four-inch heels very much, Miss Colby.” She blushes slightly and bites her bottom lip, and I kiss her chastely, aware of the other patrons around us. We step off the elevator and walk the short distance to the entrance of suite number 43, and Sam opens the door and strides right in.
“Well, I don’t believe it! You are not only on time, Pita, but you’re actually early.” Lucas’ voice is dripping with sarcasm and I’m sure that Sam probably rolls her eyes at him in response but, I can’t be certain. I am much too busy right now trying to subtly take in the details of this luxury private box to pay attention to their sibling banter.
The main viewing area, in front of the massive window with a perfect view of the 50 yard line, sports twelve oversized, comfortable looking black leather chairs – the kind any man would love to have right in front of his giant TV screen. Behind them, there is a bar with six stools all facing the window – 18 seats in all. The bar would be perfect for enjoying a beer and some wings while you watch the game. Beyond the bar, where we’re standing right now, is a small lounge area with four comfy, plush looking chairs set around a low table – nice spot for the ladies to sit and chat if they’re not into the game. Against the back wall, there is a long counter with a small sink at one end and two large chafing dishes are set up at the other end, and the aroma coming from them reminds me that, once again, Sam and I chose sex over breakfast.
“But I’m guessing you being on time is Josh’s doing, am I right?” Lucas asks, still giving his sister a hard time as he offers his hand to me.
“Hey, Lucas, how you doing?” I smile, shaking his hand.
“Good, buddy, how about you?”
“Can’t complain,” I reply as I pull up the sleeves of my long-sleeved Seahawks t-shirt, feeling a bit anxious all of a sudden. In the back of my mind, I’m still wondering if Lucas knows about my past – about how my old man died. Not that it would matter much now that Sam finally knows. But still, it bothers me. If he does know … I just wonder what the hell he really thinks of me?
“Well, listen … just make yourself at home. There’s a private bathroom by the door. The fridge is there, underneath the buffet,” he says, motioning to the counter area. “It’s stocked with juice and water and beer. Sam said Corona was your drink of choice so, help yourself. There’s lime wedges on the buffet if you want. And I hope you like wings, ’cause that’s what’s on the menu.”
“Wings sound great,” I answer with a shrug.
“Great. Let’s eat!”
We serve ourselves, buffet style then, and I see that Lucas wasn’t kidding about the wings. Under the first chafing dish, there are three different kinds – hot, barbeque, and plain. In the other chafer, there are side dishes – a warm vegetable medley, and small ears of corn on the cob. And the plates aren’t the disposable, paper kind either, they are real china with real silver flatware and cloth napkins. This
place definitely takes luxury over the top.
We all sit at the bar and talk while we eat and I have to take back my earlier words to Samantha about her being the only person who would wear four-inch heels to a football game when I see that Karen’s feet are dressed in a similar fashion. Chicks are funny.
We chat about everything under the sun and nothing in particular as we eat. Lucas peppers me with questions about being a cop. Mostly things about the police academy and what kind of training we go through, and I get the feeling that he really is just trying to get to know me, like Sam said. He also asks about Off Duty Blue. Seems he heard from Megan and Scott that the band is really good, and he and Karen want to come listen sometime. As we talk, I discover that he’s actually a pretty cool guy – easy going, good sense of humor, doesn’t seem to take life too seriously. Not at all what I would expect from a young corporate billionaire. But then again, I notice that his cellphone buzzes several times throughout lunch, like right now, and he either replies to texts or steps away to answer, always with a rather curt response to whoever is on the other line.
“Pookie, you promised no work this weekend for the wedding,” Karen admonishes him as he finishes his call and he sighs.
“And I kept my promise, cupcake. But the wedding is over now,” he answers softly and she pouts. He takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone and turns it off. Then he looks at her pointedly and she smiles sweetly at him. He leans in and kisses her swiftly and then shakes his head as if he’s wondering what the hell just happened and I chuckle to myself, knowing exactly how he feels.
We finish eating just as the kickoff is about to take place and Lucas stands, abandoning his empty plate. “Come on, let’s go down front, Josh,” he says, slapping me on the back and I stand to follow, looking back at my dirty dishes, and Sam laughs lightly at me.
“I’ll get it, go on!”
I smirk at her and head down to the huge window with the amazing view and take a seat, leaving an open chair between me and Lucas. As I do, I notice there’s a large flatscreen TV mounted in the corner just in front of the window, and it’s tuned to the very game we’re about to watch. So that we can see the instant replays, no doubt.
As the game gets underway, Sam and Karen come join us in the plush leather seats and the moment she sits next to me, my arm is around her and we hold hands as we snuggle close. It’s weird watching a game this way. I mean, it’s great; I can definitely see the appeal. It feels like we’re right on the field; you couldn’t get better seats if you tried. But it’s also sort of strange, being in the crowd but not being part of the crowd. I don’t know. It’s not bad, just different than what I’m used to.
I discover that Lucas isn’t one of those passive game watchers either, which is what I feared when he first invited me. But I’m relieved to learn that he likes to yell and scream at the players and the refs and the coaches, just like any other guy, and I actually begin to relax and really enjoy myself. I’m also pleasantly surprised to find that Samantha is a bona fide football fan herself and not one of those girls who just tolerates it for her man. She actually knows quite a bit about the game, and the team and their history, and I am officially impressed. Damn, what a woman!
At halftime, the girls excuse themselves and go off to the stadium’s Pro Shop, leaving me and Lucas alone for a while, and I’m slightly annoyed at myself for feeling anxious again. I try to remember Lee’s words from a few days ago when he said ‘so what’ to the possibility of Lucas knowing the truth. I know that Lee’s right, it doesn’t matter. Or at least, it shouldn’t. But it does. I want to be with Samantha. And I don’t want her family to have any objections about that. So, whether I like it or not, my past matters.
“So, what do you think?” Lucas asks with a smile, watching me closely. “Only way to watch a game, right?”
“Ah … I don’t know,” I shrug. “It’s one way to watch a game, I guess.”
“You don’t like it?” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and his voice sounds incredulous.
“Oh, no! I didn’t say that,” I chuckle. “I definitely like it. I can see how this would be … very easy to get used to. But, I don’t know. It’s also nice being out there,” I say, gesturing to the crowd beyond the window. “Being a part of the crowd, you know.”
He smiles at me and nods his head. “Okay, don’t think I’m being a smartass here, but…,” He reaches over and hits a hidden button somewhere and the huge window springs to life and opens, actually retracting slowly into the wall, and we are suddenly a part of the action in the stadium. Still sitting in the private suite, but now also among the crowd. We can feel both the open air and the excitement in the stadium, and I am speechless. My mouth is hanging open, waiting for a bird to fly into it, I’m so stunned. Lucas laughs at my reaction.
“You are definitely a smartass,” I tell him with a chuckle, and his laughter grows. And I can’t help but laugh with him for a minute. Wow!
“Listen, Josh,” he says, falling serious as our laughter finally subsides, “before Sam and Karen get back, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh,” I say questioningly, eyebrows raised as I feel anxious again. What is this about?
“Yeah,” he sighs. “About my mother’s behavior this weekend.” I can feel myself grimace involuntarily at his words and I’m sure he can tell that it’s a conversation I’d rather not have. He raises his hands in a supplicating gesture. “I know, I know … she behaved badly. And I’m not going to try to apologize for her.” He takes a deep breath and continues. “But I do want to own my part in it because I feel responsible. When I first learned about you and Sam, I reacted badly. I was in a bad frame of mind because Sam had just been attacked again by that asshole and I was on high alert. I may have even been a dick to you initially, and I’m sorry about that. Martin took the brunt of it, I’m afraid. But once I stopped yelling at him for obviously keeping me in the dark, I listened to what he had to say. You should know it was a glowing report; he respects you a great deal. But I needed more. Samantha’s safety was important to my father so, I needed to be sure about you. So I ordered him to find out everything he could. And I assured my mother that I would not allow you, or anyone else, to take advantage of Sam. I did not mean to imply to her that I didn’t like you, or that I didn’t trust you. And I’m sorry if that’s the way it came across last night after her theatrics. And I just wanted to apologize to you for that.”
I sit stunned for a second and just look at him, not really sure how to respond. “You really don’t need to apologize, Lucas. I told you before … I can understand your need to investigate me. You don’t need to explain.”
“Well, I’m grateful you understand,” he replies, looking me in the eye. He seems thoughtful for a moment and then says, “You know, I said I wouldn’t try to apologize for our mother but … I would like to try and explain her to you, if you’ll let me.”
I shoot him a raised eyebrow and take a deep breath. And I wonder if he knows about her threats. I say nothing and shrug at him, so he continues.
“Mom has always been overly concerned with appearances. ‘What will people think?’ And Samantha has always been her pet project.”
I frown slightly at that last comment and give him a puzzled look. “Pet project?”
He nods at me. “I had it relatively easy in comparison,” he says. “I was practically raised to take over Colby Coring. But I didn’t mind the grooming because working with my dad, and helping to run the family company was all I ever wanted to do. Sam, on the other hand … her entire life, she has fought our mother’s attempts to make her be someone she just isn’t.” He hesitates for a beat and then says, “I know that my mother loves Sam and wants what’s best for her. The problem is that, she doesn’t trust Sam to decide what’s best for Sam. And she and my dad used to have some epic arguments about it.”
“Really?” I say, hearing the surprise in my own voice.
“Oh, yeah,” he replies. “Sam was his heart, Josh.”
He looks at me and smiles. “My dad and I had a fabulous relationship but … she was his little girl, you know, and he adored her. And he and Mom would go toe to toe over her attempts to turn Sam into a vapid social butterfly. He wanted Sam to be her own person and to be more than just a socialite. Mostly because he knew Sam wanted more than that out of life. He avidly supported every artistic and academic interest she ever had. When Mom wanted to ship Sam off to a proper finishing school after she graduated high school, Dad went ballistic. So Mom figured she’d compromise … allow Sam go to college. As long as she chose ‘the right’ college. Mom wanted Vassar, of course. But Samantha really just wanted to go to UDub with Megan. Mom and Dad fought for days over that one but, Dad was insistent that Sam should be allowed to choose what school she went to.”
I’m silent as I listen to his tale, and I wonder idly why he’s telling me all of this. But I don’t get the chance to ask just then because he keeps talking.
“They even fought over the terms of Sam’s trust fund. Mom wanted it hinged on Samantha’s marital status. She wanted her married off – to the right kind of man, of course – and at least twenty-five years old before Samantha could touch that money. But Dad knew that Sam was going to need financial independence from Mom sooner than that, or she was going to be miserable. And he couldn’t stand the thought of his little girl going through life miserable for any length of time. And … since he knew that he wasn’t going to be here to fight for Sam anymore … he decided to leave her with a fighting chance. Without Mom’s knowledge, he changed the terms of her trust fund so that it kicked in on her twenty-first birthday … no marital clause. And then he swore me to secrecy. Mom was furious but, there was nothing she could do. She hates the fact that Samantha is no longer under her thumb.”
Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set Page 67
