As if anything was going to make leaving easier. Then again, for all he knew, Sid would give him a wave and get on with her life. At least after the calls he’d made yesterday, she could get on with the life she’d planned. The way she’d planned it.
Now he needed to make sure she’d remember their time together with something other than hurt and anger. Even if this summer would never be more than a memory, he’d be damned if that memory would be one she’d regret.
That meant plan B would have to work. Will had agreed to cover for him at Dempsey’s, because what he had in mind would take all day to execute. Pretending Will needed training had gotten old quick. The woman was more capable than anyone he knew. She could mix two drinks one-handed and total out a bill in her head before he could unlock the screen on the computer.
That freed Lucas to unleash what he deemed Operation Sweep Sid Off Her Feet.
The rain that set in overnight had slowed to a steady drizzle by daylight. He knew because he’d given up trying to sleep around four and watched the steady downpour taper off to a misty fog by dawn. By six he’d showered. By seven, he was headed for Sid’s.
By seven fifteen he was sitting in her empty drive, cursing his own stupidity. Where would she have spent the night? Not Joe and Beth’s or he’d have seen her truck. Would she have stayed with her brother? Or Will? Not that he knew where either of them lived.
The worst hit. What if she’d gone to Manny?
No. Sid would never do that. Or would she? Then he remembered her old routine and his grip on the steering wheel loosened. Running. She had to be on the beach.
Lucas didn’t breathe again until he slid the BMW up next to Sid’s truck. Thank God the woman was a creature of habit. He spotted her thirty yards away heading in the opposite direction. Good. He could catch up before she saw him.
When he reached her, she stopped, but he kept going. Sid’s competitive side would get her moving again. Or so he’d hoped. Sadly, he was wrong. Ten yards up he stopped too and turned around to find her in the same spot, hands on her hips.
As he trudged through the sand between them, Lucas tried to gauge her mood. For once, her face was unreadable. Now she had to master the art of bluffing? Really?
“Hey,” he said. Not the powerful intro he’d planned, but the urge to touch her was shorting out his brain.
Sid shook her head. “No shit,” she said. Then she looked down. “Less than twenty-four hours. I can’t believe it.”
“I know it’s only been a day and you’re still mad,” he said, taking advantage of her calm response to his presence. “I just wanted to let you know the garage is yours.”
“Did you hear nothing I said yesterday?” she asked. “I wanted—”
“I heard you. I mean I withdrew my offer.” Lucas put his hands in his pockets to keep from pulling her in. “The paperwork wasn’t signed so I told the Realtor I changed my mind. It’s all yours,” he added. “On your terms.”
“Withdrew your offer?” Sid shifted, glancing over to the waves pounding against the beach. “So it’s on the market again? Free and clear?”
“That’s right.”
Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but her eyes stayed on the water. “You’re walking away?”
Lucas held silent, waiting for her to meet his eyes again. When she did, he said, “From the garage, yes.” He stepped closer. “But not the other. Not yet.”
Sid dropped her gaze again, but didn’t back away.
“I hope you’re not ready to walk away either.” He lifted her chin with one finger. “I want to make this up to you. Will you let me?”
She stared into his eyes as if trying to determine whether he meant the words or not. He put every feeling he had out for her to see, and took her reluctant grin as a good sign.
“You’re not going to buy me a truck or something, are you?”
“No more buying. This time, I’m going to make you something.”
Sid raised a brow. “You? Make something?”
He couldn’t fault the skepticism. He hadn’t shown her any of his skills outside of the bedroom. Time to correct that.
With relief flooding his body, Lucas moved closer and slid his hands around her waist. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have respected your wishes.”
She moved her hands up his chest. “Yeah. You should have. Do you understand why I need to do this my way?”
Lucas still wasn’t sure he agreed with her plan, but he did understand. “It’s hard for me to see you want something and not do what I can to give it to you. I hope you know that my intention was never to take the dream away. Quite the opposite. But I respect your decision. And I respect you for it.”
A light shone through her eyes as if he’d just given her the world. “Thank you.” She lifted on tiptoe and took his mouth with hers. Leave it to Sid not to wait for him to make the move. God, he loved this woman.
The thought had him ending the kiss before they wound up horizontal on the wet sand. Which, now that he thought about it, was how this whole thing had started. As he pulled back, Sid came forward.
“What’s the matter?”
He dropped a kiss on her nose. “Be home by sunset,” he said, ignoring the pouting lips begging for more attention. “And don’t be late.”
Leaving Sid standing there took enormous effort, so he broke into a jog to keep from turning back.
“What about the restaurant?” she asked, raising her voice over the wind and surf. “Who’s going to run the bar?”
“Will is covering today,” he yelled over his shoulder. If he turned around, he was toast.
“What are you going to do?”
He did turn then. Sid’s face split in a bright smile and his heart landed on the sand. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, watching her dark hair whip in the wind. She looked like a goddess of the depths. Or would, if her shirt didn’t read “I can’t help it you’re a douche bag.”
She propped a hand on one hip. “This better be good, pretty boy.”
If everything went to plan, good would be an understatement. “Hey,” he yelled. “Leave the door unlocked, okay?”
Sid nodded agreement, then waved as she went back to her run. Mission one accomplished. On to mission two.
I know you know so just freaking tell me already.” Sid had repeated similar statements since arriving at work that morning, but Will refused to confess, claiming she didn’t know anything.
Bullshit.
“This is the last time I’m going to say this. I have no idea what Lucas is planning.” Will slammed the tap shut, cutting off the beer that had been flowing into the tall, chilled glass. “Ask me one more time and I’m shoving a bar rag down your throat.”
Sid didn’t scare easy, but Will did look like a woman on the edge. And she had the advantage of height, if not weight. Hard to tell what the lanky ones were capable of.
“Fine. I’ll stop asking.” Sid hefted the loaded tray onto her shoulder. “But not because I believe you.”
She heard a huff behind her, but kept walking. Crowds had been thin considering the official end of the summer season was still a month away. Tourists always straggled onto the island well into fall, but the real money that sustained everyone through winter was made in June, July, and August.
Thinner crowds meant fewer tips and that slowed her down a bit. Sid hoped Fisher losing out on a potential sale would make him more desperate. Then she could swoop in and take the place off his hands for a price well under asking. She sent up a silent prayer to whatever higher power might be listening. A little divine intervention never hurt.
“Explain this to me again,” Will said, when Sid returned to the bar. “Lucas tried to buy the garage for you? I can’t even get a guy to buy me flowers, and you’ve got a BMW-driving lawyer buying you whole buildings. You must have seriously made that man see God.”
“I am not discussing my private life with you. At least not here. But yeah, he tried to buy the place.” Sid stuffed her latest tip in th
e pocket of her apron. “Everybody’s giving ones today. I need to shove some of this in a drawer in the back before I lose it.”
“Go for it,” Will said. “We’re good up here.”
Sid dropped her tray behind the counter, then swung through the kitchen. As she reached the office door, the phone rang.
“Dempsey’s. How can I help you?” she answered.
“Lucas Dempsey, please.” The voice was male, clipped, and not one Sid recognized.
“He’s not here right now. Can I take a message?”
“This is Davis Holcomb of Bracken, Franks, and Holcomb, Mr. Dempsey’s employer. Is there another number at which I can reach him?”
Sid considered her options. If she said no and this was an important call, she could screw up Lucas’s gig back in Richmond. But then, in all honestly, she had no idea where he was. Calling his cell was clearly not a possibility.
Then she remembered he’d asked her not to lock her door. It was a long shot, but the man was welcome to try. “There are a couple of numbers I can give you. The first is for his parents’ house.”
“I tried,” the man interrupted. “He’s not there.”
She was trying to help the guy out. The least he could do was use a friendlier tone.
“Then you can try the other.” Sid shared her home number, then let the cranky caller read it back.
“That’s right,” she said. In case he wasn’t there either, she asked, “Would you like me to take a message in case he doesn’t answer?”
“Yes. Tell Mr. Dempsey either I see him in my office on Monday, or he can forget coming back at all.”
With that bombshell, the line went dead. Sid dropped into the desk chair and stared at the phone in her hand as if it might start talking again. Hopefully to say, “Just kidding.”
Only this wasn’t a joke. And Sid definitely didn’t feel like laughing. She felt like crying and screaming and calling the phone company to disconnect her service before hateful Holcomb got through to Lucas. Maybe he wouldn’t be there. Which meant Sid would have to give Lucas the message.
How in the hell was she going to do that?
After a morning setting the scene, then pilfering his mother’s cupboards to find everything he needed, Lucas stood in Sid’s kitchen chopping shallots and mushrooms for chicken marsala. By some miracle, the sun had burst through the clouds shortly after he’d left Sid on the beach. It was as if the universe approved of his plan, and decided to lend a hand to make it perfect.
As he gathered the bits of mushroom against his knife to transfer to the bowl, Sid’s phone rang. Normally, he’d ignore it. But a quick glance at the caller ID, more out of habit than nosiness, revealed a familiar number.
“Shit.”
After wiping his hands on a tea towel, he turned his back to the counter as he answered. “Hello?”
“You’re not an easy man to track down, Lucas Dempsey.”
Holcomb.
“Sorry, sir. There’s no cell service here on the island.”
“How the hell do people live down there?” his boss asked, voice laced with disgust. “Do they have electricity and indoor plumbing or is that too civilized?”
Lucas remained cordial. Barely. “We have all the other amenities, yes sir.”
“I’m sure you know why I’m calling,” his boss continued, getting right to the point. “Calvin Bainbridge tells me he’s explained the situation we have here.”
“Yes, I know about the case. Sir, my father is still recovering from his heart attack. Surely you understand that I’m needed here.”
“Since you’re not working in this family restaurant today, which is supposedly the reason you’re there, I can only assume they no longer need you.”
Lucas didn’t even question how his boss had gotten Sid’s number. He must have called the restaurant first. But who had he spoken with?
“We’ve hired some new help so I’m able to take a day off, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still needed.” But he wasn’t. Will could handle his shifts from here on out. There was no real reason for him to stay.
But one.
“Do you think I’m calling you personally to debate whether you need to be washing dishes or running this defense team?” Davis Holcomb rarely raised his voice. Just as he rarely made his own calls. “You’ve been an asset to this firm, Lucas, with a promising career ahead of you. But our patience will stretch only so far. We need you on this case and we need you now.”
“Sir, are you saying if I don’t return immediately—”
“We’re giving you until Monday. Wrap up whatever you need to do down there between now and then.”
Three days just wasn’t enough time.
“If I could have one more week.”
“Monday, Lucas. Or you can return a week later and collect your things.”
He’d never actually believed they’d fire him. Not after everything he’d done for the firm. The days, weeks, years he’d given to make sure they almost never lost a case. His record was better than any other lawyer on the payroll.
And it would all have been for nothing if he didn’t go back.
“Yes, sir. I understand.” Lucas looked down to see Drillbit rubbing against his leg. “I’ll be there Monday morning.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Sid pulled into her drive, tired and in dire need of a shower. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. Having the whole bed to herself again should have been liberating. Instead it felt wrong. The weight missing on the other side. The lack of heat pressed against her back. She’d have to buy one of those body pillows once Lucas left for good.
Which would apparently be sooner than expected. She still didn’t know if the Holcomb guy had found him. Her heart told her not to ask. Not to pass along the message. But her head, or maybe her conscience, argued how wrong it would be not to say something.
The question was, would she sabotage his career to keep him? That was an easy answer. Absolutely not. Besides, he’d hate her if she did and then she’d lose him anyway.
Sid hoped she had time to clean up. Surely he didn’t expect her to face his big surprise smelling like french fries and beer. The front door was open and the scent of something delicious hit her before she’d even stepped through the screen. Definitely not fries or beer. As the door slammed shut behind her, Lucas appeared from the kitchen.
“You can’t come in here.”
“Excuse me? This is my house. I can go wherever I want.”
Lucas rolled his eyes, which made him look like a teenage drama queen, and herded her toward the bedroom. “I mean you can’t come in the kitchen. Take a shower. I’ve laid out some clothes on the bed.”
Sid applied the brakes. “You what?” she asked, spinning around. “Since when do I need you to pick out my clothes?”
She could almost see him mentally counting to ten. “Fine. The clothes are merely a suggestion. Wear anything you want.” Then he mumbled something that ended with “stubborn ass.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be making up to me? Rolling eyes and name calling isn’t going to do it.”
Before she could say another word, he met her mouth in a kiss that sent heat down to her toes, and made her feel as if gravity had lost its effect on her body. When he pulled away, she was out of breath and not sure where she was.
“Now,” he said, forehead pressed to hers. “When you’re done with your shower, we’ll get this evening started.”
Sid nodded, the will to argue gone. “I’ll be quick.”
Lucas chuckled. “Take your time. I have a few things to finish up.”
His order to stay out of the kitchen combined with the awesome smell in the air finally registered. “Are you cooking?”
“Don’t look so surprised. A bachelor has to eat, and I don’t do fast food.”
“Not even pizza?” Sid asked, perplexed as to how anyone could not like pizza.
Lucas gave her a gentle nudge. “Pizza doesn’t count as fast food. Maybe tomorrow
I’ll make my focaccia bread pizza with roasted tomatoes and black peppercorns.”
That sounded … fancy. “Wait,” she stopped just before her bedroom door. “Why have you not cooked before now? You’ve been here every night for two weeks and only now decide to show off your cooking skills. What gives?”
“Would you go take a shower,” he huffed, heading back to the kitchen. “If my sauce is burned …”
Sid couldn’t hear the rest of the rant, but wondered when her live-in lover had turned into a Docker-wearing Julia Child. When she returned to the living room fifteen minutes later, wearing the black wraparound number Lucas had left on the bed, he was nowhere to be found. The only clue to his whereabouts was a Post-It note stuck on the range hood.
Dinner awaits on the pier.
The pier? What the hell were they …? But then she stepped out on the back deck and her breath stopped. She should have known Lucas would never do anything simple. As she walked across the yard in bare feet, feeling awkward with the dress whipping around her legs, she held her hair out of her eyes and took in the scene.
A table stood at the foot of the pier, a patio umbrella posted at each end leaning in, presumably to protect the diners from the elements. Or maybe to dissuade the birds. There were two tablecloths—the white one brushed the boards of the pier, while a shorter, blue square hung only halfway down.
Wine glasses reflected the setting sun, and as she arrived at the table she spotted silver domes covering each plate. He definitely hadn’t found those in her kitchen. How much trouble had he gone to? No one had ever done anything this nice just for her.
“I wanted the setting to be as beautiful as the woman it was for,” Lucas said, stepping out from under the far umbrella and sliding his hands into his pockets. “But I should have known better.” He’d changed into black pants and a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled nearly to the elbows. It was as if he’d stepped out of her dreams.
“I’m afraid I can’t compare to all this,” she said, feeling small and inadequate. Lucas was the epitome of sophistication. Her opposite in every way.
Up to the Challenge (An Anchor Island Novel) Page 24
