“Lucky Dorsey, I heard you were in town.” A gorgeous redhead was standing in front of him. “I was hoping you’d stop by. Looks like it’s my lucky day.”
Just like the veiled threats and unfulfilled promises of revenge he’d heard on a regular basis from women he’d cut ties with, a play on his name was also a regular occurrence. Actually, it was more common than the other. Usually, it was some variation on it being his or the other person’s “lucky day,” or that someone was going to “get lucky.” His personal favorite, and yes, he meant it sarcastically, was when he was asked if he was “feelin’ lucky tonight.”
His eyes scanned Lucky Day girl from head to toe, and a few things stood out. She was a natural redhead (he could tell by the roots of the hair on her head and her blonde arm hairs). She had large, brown eyes and was petite, but she had curves in all the right places. She was wearing the same black, cotton V-neck with the Brewed Awakenings logo on the chest as the brunette who’d served him his coffee, and she had a small, feminine infinity tattoo on her right wrist.
The woman standing in front of him was definitely interested and much more aggressive than the dark-haired beauty behind the counter. He’d always loved red hair, which was a plus. So he had no idea why his Cock-a-saurus Rex wasn’t roaring to life—not even a tiny growl.
“Umm, I’m Vivien, and that is my sister, Audrey.” Vivien motioned towards the counter. Her eyes narrowed, and she couldn’t have looked more suspicious of him if he’d sprouted horns and a tail.
Lucky realized he’d just been standing there, holding his coffee, doing his best mime impression. Time to do some damage control. The last thing he needed was for Little Red Riding Hood to tweet or, worse, vlog about his strange behavior.
Thankfully, whether he was feeling someone or not, he had a few tricks in his arsenal that could obliterate his odd behavior. He forced a smile—that melted most women to a puddle when they saw it—as he looked between the women.
Audrey, who was helping other customers, waved.
Lucky waved back as he spoke to Vivien. “Sisters. Wow. And you guys work together.”
“Not just work—we own this place. Actually, four of us do. Our other sisters, Ava and Grace, are silent partners,” Vivien explained as she stepped closer to him, her eyes sparkling again with attraction.
And just like that, his weird behavior was forgotten.
Just to make sure there was no lingering doubt, Lucky figured he might as well go in for the kill shot. When he’d first walked in, he noticed that the small coffee shop was decorated like old Hollywood. Black-and-white artistic pictures of Marilyn Monroe, Bette Davis, James Dean, Cary Grant, and also Vivien Leigh, Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, and Ava Gardner hung on the walls.
He inclined his head towards the wall where their namesakes were featured. “I’m guessing your mom was a fan.”
Vivien smiled from ear to ear. “Very good. You wouldn’t believe how many people don’t make the connection.” Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she pushed her ample cleavage together until it was practically spilling from her shirt. He was one hundred percent certain that her new posture wasn’t an accident. “I’m impressed. Most guys who look like you are nice eye-candy but don’t have a lot upstairs.” She winked. “How about you buy me a drink tonight at your brother’s bar?”
He liked this girl. She was hot. She had an outgoing personality, and she wasn’t at all concerned about offending him by basically saying that she’d chalked him up to being the male equivalent of a ditzy blonde. And on top of all that, she didn’t play games. Not only had she asked him out, but she also hadn’t tried to pretend she didn’t know who he was or that Levi was his brother.
If he’d met her a week ago, even three days ago, he’d have been all over that. But now, for some reason, the only girl he wanted was the one he’d vowed to stay away from.
“Sorry. I’m training tonight.”
The flame of attraction in her brown eyes changed to a flicker of disappointment, but she masked it by smiling as she suggested casually, “Maybe some other time.”
He nodded and was just about to push through the door when another woman walked in—straight into him. A woman who had light-brown hair and smelled like vanilla, flowers, sunshine, and strawberry Pop-Tarts. Even before she raised her head, he knew. His body knew exactly who it was.
“We have to quit meeting like this,” he said.
This time, he didn’t have to force himself to smile. That sucker spread across his face all on its own.
When Deanna did look up, unlike Vivien, she didn’t greet him with a wide smile. She actually jumped back like he was an electrical fence and she’d just been shocked. Today, she wasn’t wearing sweats and hat. No, today, she had on slacks and a navy-blue, button-up shirt with the Hope Falls Fire Department logo on it.
Lucky realized that the same logo had been on her hat the other day; he just hadn’t paid attention.
She was a firefighter. Why that information made her even more desirable, he had no idea, but damned if it didn’t. That was a badass job for anyone. He’d heard women talk about how hot firemen were, but he guessed it worked the same way for firewomen. At least, it did for this one.
*
“Are you here for the pickup, hon?” Audrey called from behind the counter, snapping Deanna out of her momentary lust paralysis.
“Umm, yeah,” Deanna replied as she tried to get her bearings.
“Hey, Viv. I need your help back here.” Audrey waved at her sister.
Vivien glanced between Lucky and Deanna, her eyes narrowed and didn’t appear as friendly as they had seemed the past few days she had come in to get the drink orders for all the guys at the station—another task on her rookie-to-do list.
“Come back soon.” Vivien ran her fingers down Lucky’s forearm as she brushed past him.
“See ya.” Lucky lifted his coffee cup to Vivien just as she was rounding the corner of the glass counter.
Growing up around four male cousins, who were all good-looking, popular jocks, Deanna had witnessed her fair share of girls flirting, trying to get the attention of whomever they had their sights set on. She had watched from the sidelines, because unlike competitive endeavors, she had no problem sitting the bench when it came to male-female relationships. But that didn’t stop her from taking mental notes.
Sometimes it had been funny, like when Christy Morgan had tried to take her bra off under her shirt to impress her oldest cousin, Everett, but she’d gotten her arm caught behind her back, lost her balance, and fallen off her chair, landing with a crash right on her rear.
Sometimes it had been sweet, like when Julia Fine had sent Eli a singing telegram to ask him to the winter formal, the kind of dance where the girls asked the boys.
Sometimes it had been pathetic, like when Allie Martin had shown up at her cousin Evan’s football practice with a custom-made T-shirt that had pictures of him all over it. They weren’t even sure where she’d found some of them, especially the baby ones.
But the move she’d just seen Vivien make was seriously master-status flirting. She’d made eye contact and body contact just long enough to show Lucky she was interested without making herself seem desperate. Her gesture clearly communicated she wanted to see him again but had smoothly left the ball in his court.
Deanna couldn’t even be mad that the redhead had given her the cold shoulder in the process. But, as much as she admired her form, her gut had twisted up when she’d touched him.
Which was ridiculous. She didn’t know this guy. At all. They’d barely even spoken.
At least her mind knew that, but her body had other ideas.
This was the second time in as many days that she’d found herself plastered against Lucky’s hard-as-a-rock body. The first encounter short-circuited every receptor she had. All five senses had been overwhelmed by the man standing in front of her, holding a coffee in his hand, and looking at her like he was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.
“How’s Lucky?” Lucky asked.
Hearing the man ask about the dog with same name was funny. What wasn’t funny was the way his deep voice and his whiskey-colored gaze held her captive and made her feel like she was spinning out of control, and he was the only thing anchoring her to the ground. The only thing keeping her safe.
Nope, there was nothing funny about that. Not. At. All.
She needed to leave. Whatever was happening between them, whether it was one-sided or not, it was the last thing Deanna needed. She was on probation, and all of her energy needed to be wholly focused on that. This guy was like an energy Super Vac. The thing was, though, she couldn’t seem to force her optical nerves to pull away from his stare.
“He’s good.” Deanna moved out of the way as another customer entered the coffee shop. Once she was no longer looking into his eyes, it was like the vacuum’s suction had been broken and she’d been released. Keeping her eyes on his lips and avoiding the Bermuda Triangle—a.k.a. Lucky’s Stare—to ensure she didn’t get lost again, she waved. “Have a good day.”
Her choice of words was not accidental. She intentionally hadn’t said that she would see him around. Or see him soon. Or even just see him. All because the three little words he’d called out in response when she was being dragged down the trail had been playing over and over again in her head. And not just when she was awake. Oh, no. Those three words had been starring in her dreams too.
Yes. You. Will.
On their own, they weren’t particularly sexy words. But throw in a voice that should be on a late-night, love-song radio show, sprinkle in the hottest man alive, and top it off with the threat of a promise that is equal parts dangerous and enticing, and voila, you have the recipe for a sexy cake that is mouthwatering good and sinfully delicious. And one taste will go directly to your hips.
Or between them.
“So, you’re a fireman?” Lucky’s question stopped her mid-getaway.
Deanna’s shoulders tensed and her eyes shot up to his. This time, the effect wasn’t at all potent. In fact, she’d just inadvertently found the antidote to his infectious gaze.
She did her best to answer graciously. “Firefighter, yes.”
As many times as she reminded herself that people didn’t really mean anything by it when they referred to the men and women who risked their lives to protect them as “firemen,” it still irritated the crap out of her. She wasn’t a man. She was a woman; a woman who fought fires. Therefore, she was a firefighter. It wasn’t a difficult concept to grasp.
“Right. Sorry.” Lucky shook his head slightly, and for the first time, a crack in his cocky armor appeared. He seemed rattled, which she would bet he wasn’t used to feeling.
“It’s fine.”
He wasn’t the first person to make that mistake, and he wasn’t going to be the last. Deanna knew it was her problem, not his. Closing her eyes, she pushed down her knee-jerk response of irritation.
When she opened them again, she saw the muscles in Lucky’s neck pop out, and his jaw tightened. She could sense his uncertainty and frustration at his misstep. Which surprised her—guys like Lucky didn’t usually get shaken that easily.
She knew the opposite sex all too well. Not just because she’d grown up around her cousins or because, when she was with her dad, who was a former professional baseball player, and most of her time with him was spent in locker rooms full of guys who didn’t let the fact that a kid was in the room stop them from talking about their conquests. But also because she’d chosen a male-driven field where she lived with her coworkers during her tours.
All of these experiences not only formed her opinions, but also opened her eyes to what most women didn’t get the chance to see: the real inner workings of men. She was let behind the proverbial curtain, and dear Lord, it wasn’t pretty. But it’d given her a fairly attuned BS detector. She could easily decipher whether a guy was trying to act like a badass or actually was a badass. She knew if a guy was lying or telling the truth, and if a guy was really confident or simply posturing out of insecurity.
Within seconds, Deanna had been able to put Lucky firmly in both the badass and confident categories. He wasn’t trying to act like either; he just was. She was having a tougher time determining whether every word out of his mouth was a lie or the truth. Mainly because the sensory overload was interfering with a clean reading on her truth-o-meter. She could barely think around Lucky, much less run her mental lie detector.
“All right. Well, I’ll see you later.” With that, Lucky pushed through the door and was gone.
Though a wave of disappointment washed over her at the fact that he hadn’t asked for her phone number—or any way to contact her again—she knew that it was for the best. She didn’t know his story, but the last thing she needed was to be a chapter in it.
While she waited in line, her mind started wondering what his story was. Did he live in Hope Falls? Did he have a girlfriend? Did he have a job?
It was so odd that she knew so little about him, but somehow, when he looked at her, it was like she knew him. In fact, it was like no one else even existed.
Stop it! she mentally reprimanded herself.
She was starting to sound like one of the countless groupies who would hang around the parking lot after games—or one of the psycho girls who became obsessed with her cousins. Or even her own mother, who had pined after her father for years. They all lived in some kind of fantasy world she had no plans of visiting, thank you very much.
“Hey. How’s it going over there?” Audrey motioned to the fire station, which was conveniently just across the street, as Deanna moved up to the front of the line.
“Pretty good,” Deanna replied as she pulled cash out of her pocket.
Vivien tallied up the total and then lifted her eyes from the cash register. “Forty-two fifty.” As she took Deanna’s cash, she asked, “So, how do you know Lucky?”
Deanna had given the redhead points for her subtlety with Lucky, but this was much more direct. “I don’t.” She lifted both cardboard containers that held four drinks each, then balanced one on her arm so she could carry the third.
“You looked pretty friendly.” Vivien’s comment was a pointed accusation, not a friendly observation.
“Vivien!?” Audrey shook her head at her sister before apologizing to Deanna. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Deanna smiled, hoping to diffuse the situation. She was going to be making frequent trips to Brewed Awakenings, so she didn’t want it to be awkward. “I met him a couple of days ago when I was walking Lucky, the chief’s dog. The dog took off into the woods, and I was calling out for Lucky, the dog. I ran into Lucky, the man, and I didn’t know why he kept saying, ‘What,’ when I called Lucky.”
Audrey chuckled. “That had to be pretty funny.”
Vivien didn’t find the humor in it. “You didn’t know his name was Lucky?” she asked in disbelief.
“No. Why would I?”
“Because he’s Lucky Dorsey,” Vivien explained, her tone indicating that that would clear everything up.
“Oh. Okay.” Deanna was still clueless, but she was also balancing twelve large, piping-hot coffees that eleven cranky firefighters were waiting for. As she turned to leave, she tried to sound as friendly, upbeat, and as nonthreatening as possible as she said, “Well, I’ll see you ladies the next time a caffeine fix is needed.”
“We’ll be here,” Audrey chirped.
As Deanna pushed the door open, Vivien asked in a low voice, “Do you really think she doesn’t know who he is?”
“No. I don’t think she does,” Audrey assured her sister.
Well, she didn’t. But now, she definitely wanted to find out.
Chapter 4
‡
Lucky sounded false and rehearsed even to his own ears as he enthused, “Great! Why don’t you guys come up and see what I’ve got going on up here. It’s a very back-to-basics operation. I’m utilizing all the natural elements
available to me. Yesterday, I did a ten-mile run up the mountainside, then swam upstream for four miles. I’ve never been so exhausted in my life.”
This was the fifth time he’d performed this song and dance today. The first two had been for interviews. One was a magazine he was going to be featured in, and the other was for a well-respected vlogger in the MMA community. Then these last three had been for potential sponsors. Each time had seemed a little less genuine.
“Wow. That sounds amazing. Why don’t we pencil something in for next month? Give you some time to get acclimated and then we’ll come up and take a look.” Randall Benson, an entrepreneur who owned the sports drink company Energysplash as well as several land development companies, smiled as he signed off. “Talk soon.”
The screen went black, and Lucky shut his laptop and sighed, dropping his chin to his chest. At the beginning—or, hell, even in the middle—of his career, Lucky had loved even thrived on, romancing and landing sponsors. He had a gift for that hustle. But, just like he’d lost his passion for training, he’d also lost his drive for procuring sponsorship.
This was not the kind of career he could sleepwalk through. Half-assing might get him fired from another job, but in this high-stakes one, it could cost him the ability to walk or see—it could even cost him his life. People in his field could end up paralyzed, lose their sight, or even worse—die. He needed to be all in or get the hell out.
He stood and walked over to the window of the space he’d rented for his gym. It sat up on the side of the mountain that overlooked the coffee shop where he’d run into Deanna yesterday—and also the firehouse where she worked. Yesterday, he’d watched for a lot longer than he should have, considering he had equipment to set up, as they’d run drills.
She’d been incredible. It wasn’t hard to pick her out among the men she worked with—she was a third of their size, after all. Not that she let that slow her down. If anything, that seemed to push her harder. Or she had an insane work ethic. Either way, she had impressed the hell out of him. Nothing stopped her. Not the heat, not the weight of the equipment, not even the pranks she’d walked right into as he’d helplessly watched.
Lucky Kiss Page 3
