Lucky Kiss

by Melanie Shawn

  “Lucky is on a call doing an interview, so I’ll show you around,” Alder explained before he gave them the grand tour.

  And good Lord, it was grand. Complete with a heated, therapy whirlpool tub that looked like it could easily seat ten.

  Once the tour had wrapped, the boys dispersed and Deanna gravitated towards the corner that housed a jump rope, medicine balls and a speed bag. After taping her hands, she went to work on the bag.

  “Damn. Remind me never to mess with you.” Alder approached, then casually leaned his shoulder against the wall.

  Deanna smiled and then lifted her arms and continued her training. It wasn’t that she wanted to be rude; she didn’t. She was very on edge though, and if she didn’t keep her hands and her mind occupied, well, she was scared that everyone would see just how on edge she was and who was responsible for her edginess.

  “What the hell did that bag ever do to you, Bishop?” Casey yelled from across the gym.

  “Kick its ass, Seabass,” Chris chimed in.

  Deanna ignored them and continued taking out all of the feelings she’d pushed down and pent up over the past week. Feelings she couldn’t control. Feelings she wished would just go away. Feelings that, if she didn’t get a handle on them, she feared would lead her down a path she didn’t want to take.

  “You have good form,” Alder commented as if it were a surprise as he watched her with a scrutiny second nature to a trainer.

  His reaction wasn’t shocking. Looks can be deceiving. When most people saw Deanna, they most likely put her in a box that read petite girl. They didn’t see a firefighter. They didn’t see a level-four blue belt in Krav Maga. They didn’t see a girl who’d worked her tail off not to just keep up with the boys, but to earn their respect.

  When your mother is a retired supermodel and your father is a Hall of Fame baseball player, you learn early on that being mediocre isn’t an option. Deanna had spent her life striving for excellence. Once she put her mind to something, she didn’t quit until she achieved it.

  Half-assing something, anything, just wasn’t in her DNA. She went all in. Go big or go home.

  Which was one more reason she needed to put the kibosh on the schoolgirl crush she’d been fighting off like a bad cold. Lucky was worse than that influenza bug. At least, with that, she’d be good as new in a matter of days with rest, vitamin C, and fluids.

  Not only was her infection—a.k.a. crush—not contained, it was spreading like the bubonic plague. She needed to find the antidote fast before it did irreparable damage.

  As she continued working the speed bag like it owed her money, goosebumps broke out on her arms and the energy in the room electrified. Lucky Dorsey Sixth Sense was in full effect. She didn’t need to turn around to verify that Lucky had emerged from his interview. But that didn’t stop her from doing it.

  Even as she lowered her hands, a small voice inside her screamed to put them back up and continue punishing the bag. Ignoring her common sense and self-protection, she pivoted on her heels and closed her eyes. Time felt like it stood still as she turned in the direction that was pulling her like she was a horseshoe to a magnet in a cartoon.

  When her eyes opened, they were met with a deep honey stare from across the room. This space had to be at least three thousand square feet, but in the blink of an eye, it felt like it’d shrunk to the size of a closet.

  Lucky was wearing only basketball shorts that hung low on his hips. Not only was his body so muscular and chiseled that it was enough to send even the sanest woman into the holy-hotness looney bin, but the tattoos covering his chest and torso catapulted his sexy level to Danger-Will-Robinson status. His body was even more drool-worthy in person than it had been in the hundreds of pictures and videos she’d seen on the Internet.

  Deanna’s throat grew drier than a desert as he strode towards her on powerful legs. The only sound she could hear was the pounding of her heart.

  When the chief intercepted Lucky on his path to her, Deanna blinked in shock and sucked in a startled breath. In the span of thirty seconds, she’d completely forgotten that there were other people on this planet, let alone that there were other people in this room. Her world had been reduced to just the two of them, and coming back to reality was as jarring as being drenched with freezing water in the Ice Bucket Challenge.

  “You okay?” Alder, who was still lounging on the wall, casually inquired in an amused tone.

  “Great,” Deanna answered with a confidence she didn’t currently possess as she returned to her previous activity.

  Her arms felt like noodles as she raised them, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She wasn’t this girl. She wasn’t the kind of girl who gave in to the feelings she was having. She wasn’t the kind of girl who even got those feelings. She wasn’t one of the blonde groupies who had been hanging on Lucky’s arm when she’d walked into JT’s Roadhouse.

  Nothing had ever controlled her before. Not her overbearing mother. Not the hole her absentee father had left. Not the hurt and damage her first love had caused. If she had withstood all of those things and come out fighting, Lucas “Lucky” Dorsey was not going to be the one that took her down.

  No matter how sexy he was…

  *

  “Thanks again for letting us use your facility.”

  “No problem.” Lucky’s heart was racing like a squirrel on crack as he shook Jake’s hand.

  He was torn between feeling grateful to the fire chief for having intercepted what could’ve been a very embarrassing scene and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t made it over to break up whatever pow-wow Deanna and Alder were having.

  Did he really think anything was going on between his trainer and the girl who had quickly become his obsession? No. Did that small yet significant fact matter? No.

  The second Lucky had emerged from the small office where he’d been on the phone with the editor of Sports World, he’d zeroed in on Deanna like a sniper on his target. His instincts had taken over any rational thought. He wanted Deanna far away from the man he considered one of his best friends.

  Even now, as rational thought slowly crept back into his brain, the sight of Alder over in a corner with her still didn’t sit well with him.

  Lucky was vaguely aware of Jake talking to him as he tried to identify why the hell he would care if Alder and Deanna were talking. As he attempted to pinpoint why his chest felt like a semi was parked on it, why he felt trapped and simultaneously wanted to punch something—or, more accurately, someone.

  Was he…jealous?

  No. That was a completely useless emotion. He had no reason to feel that way. Lucky had always thought that people who gave in to jealously did so because they were insecure. But he wasn’t insecure. Or, at least, he hadn’t been before. Maybe he was, now that he was going through his midlife crisis.

  Shit. He seriously needed to get a grip.

  “They’re yours if you want them.” Jake’s voice cut through the panic that was rising inside Lucky.

  When he sliced a look towards Jake, the fire chief was looking at him expectantly. Media training had prepared him never to answer a question that you A. did not understand or B. hadn’t heard.

  Since Lucky had no idea what Jake was talking about, he said, “Sorry. I zoned out for a minute.”

  Jake grinned and glanced in Deanna’s direction with a knowing gleam in his eye. Then any trace of the knowing look that had crossed his face disappeared in a flash and was replaced by an expression so neutral that he could be Switzerland’s mascot.

  “I was just telling you about the Hometown Heroes Ball. It’s an annual event the fire and police departments put on to raise money. With the influx in residents this year, we’re hoping to triple the money we raised last year. It’s this Saturday, and I have two tickets for you. Station 8 would love for you to be our guest.”

  Lucky looked down and saw that Jake was holding two tickets in his hand. “I would love to come as your guest, but if it’s a fundraiser, then I insis
t on buying the tickets.”

  “Don’t worry about it. If you really want to support the community, there will be a silent auction you can bid on.”

  “I can contribute something for the auction if that would help,” Lucky offered.

  In the short time he’d been in Hope Falls, he’d kind of fallen in love with it. Levi had been there for several years now. When he’d first heard the news that his older brother was going to buy their uncle JT’s bar and relocate, he’d thought Levi was crazy. Lucky had never seen the appeal of small-town life—until he’d experienced it firsthand.

  “That would be great,” Jake enthused.

  “What kinds of things do you already have?” Lucky hadn’t been in town that long, so he had no idea what people might be interested in.

  “Well, up until a few years ago, it was basically a bachelor auction. All the guys, both firefighters and blue bloods, would get auctioned off. But, over the last couple of years, it’s grown into so much more. Let’s see. There are ski lessons from Mountain Ridge. Sam and Luke are both gold-medal Olympians, and they’re giving away three private lessons. Then I think Karina is giving away singing lessons, and Ryan is throwing in guitar lessons.”

  It still blew Lucky’s mind that the Karina Black lived here. He’d chatted with her this morning at Sue Ann’s while he was getting coffee. Apparently, she’d become a fan of MMA and had seen his last fight with The Hammer. While they were talking, he’d almost forgotten that she was basically this generation’s Madonna. She was so down to earth and normal that it was surreal.

  “Of course, the civil servants of Hope Falls will still be donating time. But this year, we’ve decided on a silent auction.”

  Wait a minute.

  “All of you?” The words flew out of Lucky’s mouth before he’d had a chance to stop them.

  So much for media training.

  The knowing glint briefly returned to Jake’s eyes, but just like the first time, it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Yep. I don’t know what the boys in blue are committing to, but everyone from my house has signed up to donate time.”

  “Well, put me down for a private training session.” He’d tried to sound as casual as possible, but his mind was racing a mile a minute.

  “Sounds good.” Jake handed him the tickets before returning to the rest of the guys and his workout.

  As frustrated as he’d initially been at having been thwarted as he’d made his way over to Deanna, he couldn’t be happier about it now. Lucky looked down at the tickets in his hand and realized he’d been going about this thing with Deanna all wrong. He’d let his own reaction to her scare him off.

  That was part of why he felt so off-balance around her. Never in his life had he backed down from something he’d wanted. He’d fought for it. He definitely wanted Deanna, but he’d been trying to ignore it, push it down, even deny it. Why? Because he had never felt this way about someone before and he hadn’t known how to deal with it or what to do about it.

  Now, he knew. With a purpose and determination he hadn’t felt in months, he made his way across the gym.

  As Alder walked past him, his friend tilted his head to the side and whispered under his breath, “Good luck.”

  Lucky had always found it ironic that he’d been nicknamed “Lucky.” Mainly because he didn’t believe in luck. If you wanted something, then you had to work for it. Plain and simple. “Luck” was just opportunity meeting preparation. It wasn’t some mystical thing some people could tap into and others couldn’t. It wasn’t some cosmic favor bestowed on a chosen few. It was hard work and taking chances when they presented themselves.

  “Nice form,” Lucky observed as he approached Deanna.

  “Thanks,” she replied curtly, not taking her eyes off the bag or letting their exchange slow her rhythmic punching pace.

  Since she was, for all intents and purposes, ignoring him, Lucky used her distraction and the fact that his back was facing the rest of the gym to his own benefit. He allowed his eyes to take their fill as they roamed up and down her body.

  Today, she was wearing baggy, dark-blue sweats and a loose-fitting white T-shirt. Her chestnut-colored hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and her face was makeup free. Nothing about her should’ve screamed sexy, but somehow, it did. He took in the lines of her slender yet well-defined arms. The small sheen of sweat along the back of her neck, where baby-fine hairs had escaped from the confines of the rubber band holding up the rest of her hair. He studied the lines of her shoulder blades, which were visible through the white cotton.

  He had the strongest urge to reach out and touch her, to give her a deep massage.

  A massage?

  Never in his life had he been tempted to give someone else a massage.

  Sure, he’d reciprocated after he’d received massages from different women. But those had always been a means to an end; the end being both participants getting naked, sweaty, and satisfied from deep-tissue action of the X-rated variety.

  It took a moment for Lucky to realize that Deanna’s taped-up knuckles were no longer rapping against the speed bag. Her hands hung at her sides, as she faced away from him.

  A loud sigh escaped her as her head dropped back. She asked curtly, “Did you need something?”

  Hell yes, he did. And it required them both wearing a lot less clothing.

  Instead of asking for what he really wanted to ask, he went with, “I have an extra ticket to the Hometown Heroes Ball.”

  “I already have a ticket.” She didn’t even spare him a look before she went back to work punching the crap out of the bag.

  He hadn’t missed the fact that she was clearly trying to indicate that this conversation was over—not that it had really ever started. But he wasn’t quite convinced. What he was convinced of was that he was rustier than a sunken ship when it came to his pickup-line arsenal. He used to have game. Serious game.

  Maybe the old adage was true: if you don’t use it, you lose it.

  Lucas “Lucky” Dorsey hadn’t had to work at picking up a girl for years, and it predated his rise to fame on the UFC circuit. Since he’d enlisted in the Army, he couldn’t remember having to do more than smile to find women lining up to be with him. That wasn’t an exaggeration. On more than one occasion, women had stood in line, waiting their turn to get his attention.

  A fluttering of nerves—which was a novel sensation for Lucky to be experiencing around the opposite sex—migrated from his chest to his stomach as he took two steps so that he was facing Deanna. He used special precaution to remain out of the danger zone. The last thing he wanted was to be on the receiving end of one of her punishing punches.

  “I’d like to take you out sometime,” he said, raising his voice so he could be heard over the thumping of both his chest and her fists hitting the bag.

  “What?” Her arms fell to her sides.

  He was good at picking up on cues people weren’t even aware they were giving. It was part of what had made him a good fighter. He could read people—their eyes, their body language. If his opponent was exhausted, it wasn’t always in their stance. Sometimes it was an interruption in their blinking pattern or a slowing or speeding of their breaths.

  He was also an expert on trusting his instincts, which had served him well as a Ranger in the Army. He could read a situation and instinctively know whether to push forward or retreat.

  But right now, in this mission, in this bout, he felt like he was going in blind. Like, somehow, Deanna had stripped him of all of his powers; like she was the kryptonite to his mojo.

  Her expression was unreadable. Since he didn’t have his instinct or his radar going for him, he decided to fall back on being tired of tiptoeing around whatever was happening between the two of them. So he pushed forward.

  “I was asking if I could take you out sometime.” Lucky hadn’t held his breath while waiting for an answer from the fairer sex…ever. But that’s exactly what he was doing now.

  “Oh.” Deanna blinked,
but her expression was still unreadable.

  It was driving Lucky crazy. Several seconds—that felt like an eternity!—passed before she squared her shoulders and answered simply.

  “No.”

  “No?” he repeated.

  “No,” she confirmed, her eyes sparking with challenge.

  Maybe Lucky should’ve let it go. Maybe dropping the subject was the right thing to do. Maybe he could’ve done that if he hadn’t noticed that every time Deanna saw him, her skin flushed, her eyes dilated, and her breath caught. Maybe, if he hadn’t known, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was just as affected by him as he was by her, then he could’ve walked away. But knowing that her body responded to him prohibited him from doing that.

  A grin pulled at his lips. “Can I ask why?”

  “I’m not interested,” she shot back.

  But she was lying. Before he had a chance to call her on her deceit, a loud buzzing rang out in the cavernous space and every firefighter simultaneously checked their devices.

  “Let’s go,” Jake called out as all the men—and one woman—were already making their way out of the gym. The fire chief lifted his hand as he disappeared out the door. “Thanks again.”

  Lucky turned, watching out the window as the crew ran the short distance from the gym to the firehouse. Within two minutes, the bay doors rolled open and a siren sounded as they pulled out of the station.

  He only caught a quick glimpse of Deanna, who was seated backwards in the rig. A sharp pain twisted in his gut. She looked so small, so vulnerable. Lucky might not have known her that well—or at all—but he knew that his protective reaction would piss her off. Something told him that she definitely wouldn’t look at it as an “aww” moment.

  She was easily one of, if not the most independent woman he’d ever met. Which, in his book, was sexy as hell.

  “You gonna stare after her like a puppy dog all day, or are we going to go to work?” Alder threw a towel towards Lucky.

  He lifted his hand and caught it.