Dead Set

by Melissa Pearl

  “You know how to roof a house?” Lucas was impressed.

  “I know how to hand supplies to the people who roof a house,” she clarified with a wink. “But yeah, I installed some tiles. It’s not hard as long as you don’t have a fear of heights.”

  Lucas didn’t think he did, but he wasn’t about to go around scaling walls to find out.

  “And then what?” Lucas asked. “You said this was the first house you bought.”

  Alaina looked around, and the pride she felt was evident.

  “It was,” she said. “I bought it for ten grand.”

  Lucas almost spilled his wine. “Ten grand?”

  She nodded. “Foreclosed houses can be really cheap, especially if they’ve been sitting for a while and the bank just wants to unload it. So I bought this place with the money I’d saved and then took out loans to get it fixed up. Took me a few months, but I sold it for a profit.”

  He had to know. “How much profit?”

  Her smile was almost wicked. “I cleared thirty by the time everything was said and done.”

  Lucas let out a low whistle. “Thirty grand?”

  “Yep. I took that money and bought my next house. Flipped that one for an even bigger profit. And I’ve been going strong ever since.”

  “I take it you’re doing well?” This was obvious, but he wanted to keep her talking. He could listen to her all day.

  She laughed. “Better than I ever hoped for. If someone had told me that I’d have a six-figure savings account before I was thirty, I would’ve told them they were crazy.”

  “That’s incredible,” Lucas said. And he meant it.

  Alaina had taken a risk and she’d worked her ass off to make things happen. Pride blossomed inside of him as he stared at the strong, beautiful woman sitting next to him. He’d never met someone so determined, so relentless in her pursuit of success.

  “So now I own three properties that I rent out,” she said. “And I own this one as my home.”

  “You have rentals?”

  She nodded. “The market was a little soft a couple of years back and I was having a hard time moving houses. But the rental market was tight here in Aspen Falls, especially with the college students. The money my renters pay covers the cost of the mortgages on the houses and then some.”

  Lucas shook his head and drained his wineglass.

  “What?” she asked with a frown. “You don’t approve?”

  “Hardly,” he said. “I wish I would’ve thought to do it.”

  She snatched his wineglass from his hand and stood up, swaying a little as she did so. “It’s never too late to start.”

  “It is if you don’t know which end is which on a hammer.”

  “Oh, please,” she said as she headed into the kitchen. He watched her as she walked, the subtle sway of her hips, the way her hair bounced on her shoulders. He might’ve mistaken her for a girl at first, but she was definitely all woman.

  Her voice was faint. “I bet you’re a handy kind of guy.”

  She would be wrong. Okay, so he’d exaggerated his handyman shortcomings—he could use a hammer, for Pete’s sake—but more complicated do-it-yourself projects? He’d just as soon hire someone to do it. And the organization skills needed to juggle house purchases and rental contracts and contractors? He shuddered.

  He was definitely not cut out for that line of work.

  She returned, handing him his glass. A little of the burgundy liquid sloshed to the floor, and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle.

  “Oops.”

  “How much have you had to drink?” Lucas asked her.

  “Not enough.”

  “You drink often?”

  “Hardly ever.”

  “Then why tonight?” he asked.

  She thought for a minute. “Why tonight?” she repeated. “Why not?”

  It was a fair question, and Lucas realized he didn’t have an answer. Alaina was a big girl, a grown woman perfectly capable of making her own decisions.

  He tried to steer the conversation back to her business. Because if he didn’t, he couldn’t predict what territory he would veer into.

  “You have a good thing going,” he said as he surveyed the room they were in. “I bet your dad is proud of you now.”

  Alaina snorted. “Hardly.”

  “How could he not be? With everything you’ve done, everything you’ve built for yourself?”

  “That’s the point,” she said with a wry smile. “I did it. Without him. It kills him that I didn’t need him, that I was able to do it all on my own. And he’ll never forgive me for that.”

  Lucas wondered how much of that was true and how much was the alcohol—and her emotions—staking out that position.

  “Well, if a strained relationship is the cost of having a business you love, then maybe it’s worth it,” he offered.

  Her expression sobered and she glanced down at the floor. Lucas wondered what he’d said to change the mood so quickly.

  “What?” he asked, concerned.

  “There was another cost,” she whispered.

  He waited.

  She looked up at him, her eyes glistening, her cheeks even rosier, her lips pressed together. She looked so fragile, so damn beautiful. His heart skipped a beat.

  “It cost me something else,” she said. “Something I can’t replace.”

  He knew what she was going to say before she even spoke the words.

  “My brother.”

  18

  Thursday, March 22nd

  8:25pm

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them.

  What was wrong with her? Why was she literally spilling her guts to this man sitting on her couch? She’d met him a matter of days ago and had just basically word-vomited her entire life story to him.

  She drained the wine in her glass, swallowing it down in two massive gulps. She was already tipsy and knew this would send her over the edge. She could end the conversation with Lucas, show him the door, and then drop into bed to sleep off the alcohol…and the emotions she’d been trying to drown.

  Alaina hadn’t been lying when she told Lucas she didn’t drink often. It wasn’t that she didn’t like alcohol, and it wasn’t because she was worried about drinking too much. She just didn’t have the time. The time to go out for drinks or the time to enjoy them at home.

  Most nights she was poring over house listings or planning remodels or going over contracts. A glass of wine or a cocktail would just slow her down. She always had a bottle or two on hand, but lately they had seemed more like decorations than actual beverages she intended to consume.

  But tonight? She’d come home from the high school mentally and emotionally exhausted. And because her guard was down, because she was weak from being so tired, thoughts of Noah had filtered in.

  She had an uncanny ability to turn things off, to compartmentalize every aspect of her life. It was probably the only reason she was still functioning, especially considering Noah had died just a few weeks ago. Any normal person would still be in the throes of grief. Not Alaina. Those first few days had been a blur, mostly because she’d had to take control of all the arrangements. She’d been so focused on choosing a casket and ordering flowers and arranging food for the reception afterward that she’d shelved her grief, putting it in the far recesses of her mind. Immediately after, she’d jumped right back into work, tackling projects she’s had to put on hold for those few days. And now…well, now she was focused on finding out what really happened to Noah. She’d had her mental breakdown in the cemetery. She’d allowed herself to cry, to feel the guilt wash over her. And then she’d decided to do something about it.

  This gave her purpose, sure, but it also gave her something else: a new task to focus on.

  She wasn’t naïve. She knew exactly what she was doing.

  She wasn’t facing reality. She wasn’t allowing herself to focus on the truth that was staring her in the face, and she wasn’t l
etting herself deal with all of the emotions connected to that truth.

  Her brother was gone. And he was never coming back. And yes, she’d had her moments when the tears had crept in, when her throat had clogged and her heart raced, when she felt the emotion welling up inside her. But always, always, she’d beaten it back down.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  Alaina looked up, startled.

  She’d almost forgotten Lucas was there.

  His warm eyes were on hers, caressing her. His expression was tender, one of naked caring that made her stomach somersault.

  “What?” she murmured. The buzzing in her ears made it hard to hear him. It had to be from the wine, she told herself.

  “Noah,” Lucas said. “It’s not your fault.”

  She shook her head. He didn’t know.

  “Look, I know it’s easy to blame yourself. Hindsight is everything, isn’t it? You think about all the things you could’ve done. All the things you should’ve done.” He paused. “But what he did was his decision. His. He made it on his own.”

  She stared at him. “If he did it,” she said. “Remember?”

  He blinked. “Well yeah.”

  “You think he did, don’t you?”

  He brought his glass to his lips. He’d barely touched the refill she’d gotten for him.

  “I didn’t say that,” he finally said.

  She hung her head and closed her eyes. “Is this a wild-goose chase? What I’m doing?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I think there’s a different question you might want to ask yourself.”

  She looked up. “Oh? What’s that?”

  “Instead of wondering what you’re chasing, maybe you should look at what you’re running from.”

  He reached for her hand, and when his fingers wrapped around hers, she closed her eyes. It felt so good to be touched. To be comforted.

  “Did you slip something into my drink?” she murmured.

  “What?” His voice was so sharp her eyes flew open.

  He looked visibly taken aback.

  She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Not literally. I just… I don’t share with people. And look at me, spilling all my secrets.”

  “You haven’t told me anything I can’t read on my own,” he said quietly.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He was silent for a minute. “It means you don’t have to say anything for me to see how you feel. What you’re going through.” His eyes burned with such intensity, she had to look away.

  “Tell me one of yours,” she said impulsively.

  “One of my what?”

  “One of your secrets.” She smiled. “Level the playing field a little.”

  He chuckled. “What makes you think I have secrets?”

  She nudged him with her elbow. Their hands were still locked together, and she was surprised by how comfortable, how right, it felt.

  “Everybody has secrets,” she told him.

  “Hmm.” His brow furrowed. “Okay. I used to be a cop.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “That’s your secret?”

  “It’s not really a secret,” he admitted. “I was actually on the force here in Aspen Falls.”

  “Really?” She stared at him. “I don’t remember seeing you in police uniform.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You know most of the other officers on the force?”

  Alaina felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “No, of course not. I just meant…I didn’t know.” She hesitated. “Why did you leave? Did you quit so you could start your own business?”

  “Hardly.” He snorted. “Injury forced me out. My knee.”

  She flashed back to earlier—the trip to her childhood home seemed like it had happened a week ago, not the day before—and remembered when Lucas had stumbled down the stairs, how he’d gripped his knee afterward. Told her it was from an old injury. She felt bad that she hadn’t pressed for more information.

  “What happened?” Her mind conjured up a police chase, or a shootout with some horrible criminal.

  He looked at her and she knew he could read the thoughts she was having. “Nothing glamorous or exciting,” he said dryly. “Baseball injury. A charity game. Blew out my knee and, despite surgery and therapy, my time as a cop was over.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

  He nodded.

  “They just kicked you out?”

  “No, they offered me a different position. Pushing papers.” He chuckled and made a face. “You’re probably aware that paperwork is not my forte.”

  She burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it.

  “Yes,” she said, thinking of the cesspool that was his office. She still had work to do there, but she’d at least made some headway. “Anyway,” she said, “that’s still a lame secret. Tell me another.”

  “I wasn’t aware my secret was going to be judged.”

  “Well, it is.” She squeezed his hand. “I told you all kinds of things. About how I got started with my business, my relationship with my dad. I got…your last career. As a public servant.” She didn’t mention the things he’d guessed, the emotions she’d tried to hide but were apparently on full display.

  His lips twitched. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Fine.” He sobered, and her pulse quickened. “It’s been an adjustment, not being on the force,” he told her. A muscle in his jaw twitched and he was quiet for a minute, almost as if he were struggling to find the words. “That was my career. It was going to be my one and only job until…well, until it wasn’t.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her heart suddenly ached for him. He’d been flippant in discussing the injury and how it had ended his career, but she sensed that the words he was speaking now were a better indication of just how that event had affected him. It was crystal clear that being a police officer had meant a lot.

  “I know all about feeling guilty,” he said.

  “Guilty? What do you feel guilty about?” The injury hadn’t been his fault.

  “For fucking up,” he said simply. “And maybe it’s not so much guilt as it is self-blame. I feel like a failure because of what happened.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Alaina said firmly.

  He cocked his head. “Gee, where have I heard those words before?”

  She nodded and smiled. “Fair enough.”

  “I’ve spent the last year constantly trying to prove myself.” He took a long sip of his wine. “To show people I’m not a failure. To prove to myself that I’m not a failure.”

  “You’re not.” Alaina’s tone was fierce; she could hear it with her own ears. She set her glass down and reached for Lucas. Her hand cupped his chin and she gently guided it so he was looking straight at her. “You are not a failure.”

  She stared at him, lost in what she saw reflected in his eyes. There was sadness and fear and pain. She didn’t know if she was looking into his soul or if she was seeing into her own.

  But there was something else lurking in the depths of his gaze. An aching longing that ignited something within her.

  She closed her eyes and, without thinking, leaned toward him, in search of…something. Her lips met his, a whisper-soft touch, and it was like a bolt of electricity shot through her. She whimpered, letting herself taste and feel him. Lucas shifted and suddenly so did the kiss. Mouths melded together, hands shifted, and she pulled him toward her, desperate, eager for his touch.

  She wanted him. No, she needed him.

  She raked her hands through his hair as his lips moved against hers, his tongue gently probing her mouth.

  Everything about his touch, his taste, felt right.

  A voice inside her tried to tell her otherwise. Tried to tell her that it was the wine, the emotions she was feeling, all of these other things that were causing this reaction, this response in her.

  She ignored it, pressing herself firmly against him, shifting her hands to his
chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath the fabric of his shirt. His chest flexed and he sucked in a sharp breath as she inched her own fingers under his shirt.

  No, this wasn’t the wine. This wasn’t the guilt or sadness needing to be washed away.

  This was unabashed desire. Need.

  And she was running with it.

  19

  Friday, March 23rd

  9:35am

  God, Lucas hoped things wouldn’t be awkward.

  He sat at a table at Lulu’s, setting down his coffee and hoisting his bag into his lap. He unloaded his laptop and a notebook, making sure not to jostle the mug already on the table.

  He’d decided to work at Lulu’s today. Not just for the coffee and muffin he knew he was going to get, but because his office wasn’t an option. Alaina was heading over there to work on cleaning things up, and he didn’t want to get in her way.

  His neck felt warm, and he took off his jacket, draping it across the back of his chair. The sun was shining in through the windows, that late winter sun feeling warmer and warmer with each passing day. That was why he was warm, he told himself. Not because he was thinking of the night he’d spent at Alaina’s.

  He shook his head. He did not spend the night at her house. He’d spent time at her house. He’d left after they kissed, almost immediately. It hadn’t been weird or awkward or anything, but he knew that if he stayed much longer, he wouldn’t be leaving until morning. And he didn’t think either of them was ready for that.

  He sipped his coffee, trying to think of something other than the way her lips moved across his, the sweet taste of her mouth, the softness of her skin as his hands drifted to her waist, her stomach, her ribs. The heady feeling of touching the lacy fabric of her bra and then tentatively dipping his fingers inside.

  He blinked a couple of times, trying to clear the image from his mind, and trying to rationalize what had happened between them.

  They’d both had a little to drink, Alaina more so than him, and they’d both been pretty vulnerable after sharing about themselves. It was only natural, what happened. They’d comforted each other. Plain and simple.