by Liz Talley
“Hmm?” he murmured against her skin.
“Kettle.”
He released her. “Go turn it off but come back. I want to taste you some more.”
She’d never moved so fast. When she returned, she plopped right down in his lap and drew his head to her, seeking his lips. For several seconds she reveled in the fuel spilling into her belly, revving her, making her forget every admonition about leaving Lucas Finlay alone. When she broke the kiss, it was only to drop her head back so he could slide his lips down her throat.
She groaned as he met her unstated request.
“Ah, that’s my girl,” he whispered, resuming his work at the sensitive base of her throat as his hands moved to cup her bottom before alternating with caressing her back and thighs.
Her answer was to rub against his erection. The delicious friction made the ache between her legs painful. He felt so big, so hard, so what she needed.
But…
“Lucas, we can’t. I can’t do this here.” She tried to protest, but it was halfhearted. She wasn’t sure if a pack of wild horses storming the kitchen could stop what was happening to her.
Okay, yes, wild horse could likely stop it.
But she didn’t foresee a herd of mustangs breaking into her kitchen. Maybe Aunt Flora, but not horses.
Aunt Flora.
She stiffened beneath the heat of his mouth on her shoulder.
“Shh,” he said, nipping her collarbone. “Just a few more seconds before I have to join Mittens, the meanest cat this side of the Mississippi, in bed.”
She giggled. Couldn’t help it because the image of Lucas sleeping with that mean tabby was ridiculous.
Her laughter made him laugh and he laid his head against her breast, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her against his body…against a rigid erection.
Oh, passion still lingered, but both knew it was neither the time nor the place for anything more than sweet kisses and a slice of something wonderful.
For several seconds neither of them said anything, just sank contently into the other, Addy’s gown rucked up, Lucas’s heart still racing against her belly. Finally she pulled back, pushing her hair from her eyes. “I asked you in for tea. Not this. Sorry.”
“You’re apologizing? For this? ’Cause that was the best damn tea I never drank,” he said, his dark eyes moving over her face.
Addy felt her face grow hot. The sweet moment faded and she became aware she straddled him. She shimmied back and his arms fell away. “I can’t believe I lost my head that way. It was—”
“Wonderful.”
“With a side of embarrassing,” she said, only partly comforted by his words. She’d lost her mind, straddling a man in her aunt’s kitchen…a man she barely knew. They’d never even kissed before, for heaven’s sake, and she’d mounted him like a sex-starved spinster.
“Why? I just told you it was the best tea I never had. Can I come over for tea every night?”
Addy slid her hand over her face and laughed. “Jeez, if I start offering tea like that every night, I’m going to have problems.”
“I’m a good problem solver,” he said, his teeth flashing in the moonlight.
“You’re a flirt.”
He shook his head and stood. “No way. I’m a mean, lone rancher.”
She laughed again and her mortification fled. “You look mean, but you’re really sweet.”
“No way,” he joked, drawing her back into the circle of his arms. “I’m nasty. I smack around kids and trip old ladies crossing the street.”
“I saw you scoop an inch worm off the steps and put him on a bush so he wouldn’t get squished by small feet,” she murmured, looking up into his face. “You’re a hoax of a mean man.”
Lucas dropped a kiss on her nose. “When I have time, I’m going to show you what kind of man I am. But tonight I have three children I need to get back to.”
“But that may never happen,” Addy whispered, shaking her gown so it covered her legs and regarding the man who’d stood and adjusted himself within the pajama pants. “This was a weird moment…I never do anything like this.”
“Shh.” He pressed a finger against her lips. “If we never make it to a bed, then I have the sweetest memory to take with me.”
Addy closed her eyes. “I can’t believe that’s how you’ll remember me. Jumping your bones.”
He squeezed her tight. “You’re honest and sweet and pure, and this moonlit moment is the best thing that’s happened to me since I came home.”
She nodded, believing the conviction in his voice. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Addy looked up. “I owe you tea, Mr. Finlay.”
A flash of teeth in the light of the moon. “I’ll look forward to receiving that payment, Miss Toussant.”
She figured he wasn’t talking about the same kind of tea she was.
Lucas walked out, pajama pants tented, moccasins sloughing against the tile and cold night air blasting in as he closed the door, leaving Addy to wonder if the moment had actually occurred…leaving her to wonder about his statement about making it to a bed.
She had no answer.
So she dumped out his cold tea and went to bed.
Chapter Eleven
LUCAS EYED THE bathroom door before refocusing on the magazine sitting in his lap. Modern Parenting sucked as bathroom reading material, but he’d forgotten to grab one of his photography magazines before locking himself in. He wasn’t actually using the bathroom so much as escaping from Charlotte and her bevy of tea-swilling dolls.
Jeez, you play dolls with a kid once and you’re tied up for hours. Charlotte’s preschool had parent-teacher meetings every afternoon for the rest of the week, which meant no afternoon care Tuesday through Friday, which meant no free afternoons for Lucas. He’d spent the past few hours making burnt grilled cheese, playing “house” and begging Charlotte to take a nap.
As a last resort, he’d locked himself inside the master bathroom for a moment of peace.
The door rattled and he glanced at it again. Sure enough four little fingers wiggled into the space between the bottom of the door and the carpet.
“Uncle Wucas, you have to come out,” she said in a muffled singsong voice.
“Uncle Lucas is going potty,” he said, shaking his head at using those words. Who had he turned into? Potty? Dear Lord, he was a changed man.
In more than just his language.
What he’d experienced the night before in the neighbor’s kitchen had cemented what he already knew—he had a bad case of the hots for Addy Toussant. And it wasn’t merely about how incredible she felt in his arms. It teetered on something bigger…something that scared the hell out of a solitary man such as he…a man who had planned to live out his life in blessed bachelorhood.
Not that he didn’t like company of the female variety at times. He did. But the way he gravitated toward Addy had him worried. Like maybe he should dig in his heels a little and slow down. After all, he was going home in a few days’ time. Maybe being around kids and a cluttered house had him reaching for something pleasurable, maybe it had him convinced he felt something he didn’t.
“Uncle Wucas?”
“Charlotte, go feed Baby Carrie a bottle and put on a new pot of tea. I’ll be out in a minute.” He glanced at his watch. And then glanced at it again. Was it already three o’clock?
Oh, crap.
“A lady’s here.”
Lucas scrambled off the closed lid of the toilet, dropping the magazine—dog-eared on the page with advice dealing with troubled teenagers. “Who? Go find your shoes. We’re late to pick up your brothers.”
He slid the chain from the door and opened it slowly because Charlotte’s fingers were still beneath it. He glanced down to find her lying on her stomach wearing a tutu. When she tilted her face to his, bright red lipstick was smeared all over it. Then he saw the lipstick smeared into the beige carpet.
“Holy sh—” he breathed, catching himself at th
e last minute. “Uh, where did you get that lipstick? Why did you—”
“It’s Mommy’s. I weared it for the tea party but it got on the rug. I clean it,” the child said, hopping up, waving a hand towel smeared with more red makeup.
“Christ, Charlotte. Give me that,” he said, grabbing the guest towel and swiping at her face. She ducked and bobbed. “Okay, later. Give me your hand. We’re late.”
The little girl’s lip wobbled but she did as bidden. Lucas had no idea how to clean up red lipstick. Sure, he’d had some on his collar once before, but the cleaners handled that. Maybe he’d better call a professional service and make an appointment. But first he had to pick up Michael and Chris.
Dear Lord, please let me be able to fasten the car seat in minimal time. And let there be no traffic. And all stop lights on green.
“What about the lady?” Charlotte asked.
“What lady? Is she one of the ones who came to our tea party?”
“Nooo.”
“No? She’s a real lady?”
“Yesss.”
“Where is she?”
“Down there.” Charlotte pointed toward the foyer below them. He reached the stairway and peered down into the first floor, but saw no one. Maybe the girl was confused between imaginary and real…and maybe he shouldn’t have spent the past fifteen minutes locked in the bathroom.
Red lipstick on the carpet equaled lesson learned.
When Lucas reached the landing, no lady stood in the foyer. And his keys weren’t on the table. He patted his pockets and looked back at the staircase. Had he left them upstairs? He was a man of habit. Keys by the front door. Always.
“Where’s the lady?”
“I don’t have time for games, Charlotte. I have to find my keys so we can go get Chris and Michael. Did you put them somewhere?”
“Hey, you the uncle?” a voice over his shoulder asked.
He spun to find a woman standing between the dining room and kitchen. She wore a tight sweater that came to her knees, some legging or tight things and high-heeled boots. Her hair resembled something in the skunk family and her skin was the color of crunchy toast. Earrings brushed her shoulders and the skinny dude behind her looked like the caricature in the old Atlas Gym commercials…the before shot.
“Yeah, I’m the uncle. Who the hell are you?”
“That’s cussin’,” Charlotte observed as wryly as a near-four-year-old could.
Lucas ignored Charlotte and concentrated on the couple standing next to the table stacked with school books and a basket of crayons. He’d meant to clean it off, but such messiness didn’t seem important at the moment.
“I’m DeeAnn. Courtney’s cousin. This is Joe, my boyfriend.”
“Fiancé,” the guy said.
“Yeah, fiancé,” she said, giving the man a look that made Lucas uncomfortable. “I almost forgot, baby.”
Joe pinched DeeAnn on the ass, earning a little shriek, and then he grinned good-naturedly at Lucas. “Women.”
Normally Lucas might have agreed with Joe. “You don’t know how to use the doorbell?”
“We knocked,” DeeAnn said, with a shrug. “Little…what’s her name again?”
“Charlotte,” Lucas said.
“Oh, yeah, Charlotte. She let us in.”
“You’re two days early.”
DeeAnn broke away from Joe, turning to him with a smile. “Courtney sounded desperate, so I took the rest of the week off and got over here on the double.”
Lucas didn’t like the looks of DeeAnn, much less Joe, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. They didn’t look depraved. Maybe challenged in the fashion department, but not dangerous. “So Courtney’s paying you by the day?”
“Look, I’m not doing this for the money, but I gotta have something to offset the fact I’m taking vacation from the tanning salon where I work.”
He couldn’t necessarily fault her that. He could work from here. A tanning salon? Not so much.
“Where are we sleeping?” She jerked her head toward the bags sitting in the doorway. Lucas had missed them earlier but that was because they sat behind a laundry basket full of towels.
Joe picked up the two duffel bags and cocked an eyebrow.
“We?” Lucas crossed his arms. “Don’t you mean you?”
“Dude, I’m not leavin’ her here with the kids by herself. Where she goes, I go,” Joe said, winking at DeeAnn.
“Then you can follow her right back out that door.” No way in hell would he leave his niece and nephews with a stranger. He knew Courtney didn’t know about Joe, and in his mind, Joe had to go.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” DeeAnn said, sticking her hands on her hips and smiling at Lucas as if he were a blooming idiot. “Joe’s practically family.”
But not yet.
Something didn’t feel right, but maybe Lucas threw up barriers because of something wriggling inside him he didn’t want to admit—the fact he wasn’t ready to go back to Texas. The fact he cared more about his brother’s kids than he thought…even if he still had to clean red lipstick from the upstairs carpet.
Charlotte ducked behind his leg, giving him a small thrill of victory he acknowledged by reaching around and patting her shoulder. “That might be, but you aren’t shacking up in the house with these kids.”
“Who are you, head of the morality police?” Joe asked, dropping the bags at DeeAnn’s feet. “It’s the twenty-first century, dude.”
“I’m not sitting in judgment of you, but it’s not a good idea. Gut instinct. No offense.”
“Well, I am offended. We’re in a serious relationship.” Joe puffed out his chest and mimicked DeeAnn’s pose.
Lucas sighed. He had no right to undermine Courtney. DeeAnn was her cousin, and his sister-in-law obviously trusted her enough to supervise the kids. Besides this was what he wanted…to go back home, forget about New Orleans and sew himself back into the man he had always wanted to be.
“Joe’s out.” Lucas pointed toward the front door just as it opened. Michael and Chris trooped in, arguing about who had to feed the dog and cat. They dumped their backpacks and fell silent when they saw the adults assembled.
“He’s not going anywhere,” DeeAnn said, tossing her head and standing akimbo à la superhero. But without the cape. “We’ve already made plans to stay with the kids. So you get out.”
“Who’s she?” Chris asked as Michael kicked the front door closed.
“Who brought you home?” Lucas asked, flashing a glance at his watch. He should have left thirty minutes ago for pickup. He’d totally screwed the pooch on pickup today. Shit.
“David Peace’s mom. I tried calling your cell.” Michael stared him down, aggravation on his young face…and maybe disappointment. “What’s DeeAnna doing here?”
“DeeAnn,” the woman corrected, tucking her hands into her pockets and looking over the crew of kids populating the foyer. “Your mom wanted me to stay with y’all until she gets back from Virginia.”
“Is that where she is?” Chris asked, cocking his head. “What’s she doing there? We don’t know nobody in Virginia.”
Michael didn’t flinch, but his eyes widened slightly. “You’re joking.”
“Nope,” DeeAnn said with a fake smile. “She tried to call me last week but I was out of pocket. I’m here now, so your uncle can go back to his cave.”
“Does your parole officer know you’re here?” Michael asked, sliding behind Lucas and turning Charlotte toward him. He frowned when he saw the lipstick smeared all over her face but didn’t say anything.
“I don’t have a parole officer. You know that.” DeeAnn had dropped the sunny smile and looked aggravated.
“Wait a minute,” Lucas said, pointing a finger at the woman. “You have a parole officer?”
“I don’t have a parole officer. I got busted for pot years ago. No big deal, and Mikey knows that. He’s trying to make me look bad is all.”
Michael glanced at Lucas, his dark eyes unfathomable.
“I don’t want to stay with her,” Chris said.
“You don’t have to,” Lucas said.
For a moment they all stood looking at each other—a veritable standoff. He could hear the clock ticking in the hallway, measuring out the seconds of tenseness.
Lucas should have been relieved to have Courtney’s cousin show up early. He wasn’t cut out for taking care of three children and a menagerie of animals. Hadn’t forgetting about Chris and Michael that afternoon, along with the lipstick debacle, proved as much? But the whole thing felt wrong.
“Let’s just call Courtney,” DeeAnn said, pulling a cell phone from her back pocket.
“You do that,” Lucas responded, picking up Charlotte and heading to the kitchen so he could clean her face. Chris followed.
“Why didn’t you pick us up today?” Chris asked, heading to the fridge, pulling open the door and mulling over his choices.
Lucas sat Charlotte on the counter next to the sink. The child rubbed her eyes and yawned. He should have made her lie down for a nap. “I was on my way, but I couldn’t find my keys. And then those two showed up.”
Chris pulled out a pudding cup, ripped off the lid and licked it before tossing it onto the counter. “Oh. We thought we’d have to go to Mrs. Gruden’s room. We hate that place. And why are they here anyway? You’re doing okay…even if you forgot about us today.”
“Put that in the trash,” Lucas said, ripping off several paper towels, wetting them and then scrubbing at Charlotte’s fat cheeks. “I didn’t exactly forget you. So is Michael pis—uh, mad?”
“Ow!” Charlotte wiggled under the duress of the paper towel.
“He’s always mad,” Chris said, doing as Lucas suggested, but not before dropping the foil top on the tile, smearing it with chocolate. “I don’t think he likes too many people. He used to have lots of friends, but now he don’t play with no one.”
“Doesn’t play with anyone,” Lucas corrected, refusing to give up on the mess covering Charlotte’s face. He tried to be gentle but the blasted lipstick didn’t want to come off. “Why is that?”
