by Tiffani Lynn
“Sure will, girly.”
“Thanks, Earl!” He grins at me before he turns back to the car he was working on.
I have the Uber driver drop me off at the Mill Top Tavern, where I have a chicken Caesar salad to stop the growling of my stomach. When I’m finished, I wander a block away to the pirate museum. It looks a little touristy, but even the waiter at the restaurant told me it was a cool experience, so I buy my ticket in the gift shop and head inside.
My eyes aren’t even adjusted to the dimness of the room when I spot the handsome stranger from the beach off to the side, reading something on a plaque. I should probably be creeped out, considering I’ve now seen this guy four times without trying, in less than twenty-four hours. He’s almost everywhere I go and once again when I spot him, he seems to be alone. For some reason, though, I can’t seem to make myself freak out or even walk back out the door. My therapist would have a field day with this, saying I’m putting myself in harm’s way, but I don’t think I am. For the first time in a long time, it seems that I’m intrigued by something or someone, so instead of running the other way, I’m going to walk over to him.
“Are you stalking me?” I level him with a squinty glare.
He chuckles a little and shakes his head. “No, but I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t hope you would be here.”
“Have you been waiting here all day for me?”
“Nope, only been here about thirty minutes. I figured I’d linger here for a little while and read everything, and if you didn’t show up, I’d go on through. If you did, I’d see if you wanted company.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I try not to show any emotion. I want him to squirm a little. A credit to him though, he doesn’t; he just returns my stare. A group of elementary-age schoolboys comes in behind me, forcing me to end our staredown. “Yeah, sure, I’ll take the company, but only if you tell me your name,” I finally answer over the rise in noise.
His eyes roam the room, probably taking in the chaos we are about to be enveloped in. “Fair enough. Devlin. Yours?”
“Lucianna, but everyone calls me Luci.”
“Lucianna,” he repeats. “Beautiful name. We should probably let these boys go ahead of us, though.”
One of the mothers must overhear us as she’s passing because she pauses and leans in. “Fastest way to kill a date is with a bunch of second-grade boys.”
I can’t help it, I bust up laughing at both her statement and her grim expression. She winks at us and slips past.
Once the boys clear the area we are in, we take our time going through each interactive exhibit, discussing and commenting on every little thing. We both seem to find the factoids and stories fascinating. Titus was never much for history so we didn’t go to museums. If it wasn’t sports- or party-related, he didn’t get into it.
After a couple of hours, we finish, and instead of standing awkwardly outside the building, he looks over at me like we’ve known each other for years. “Let’s go up a block and grab a drink? Are you up for that? Do you have anything you need to be doing?”
My belly warms at the thought of his wanting to spend more time with me. I’m probably still being reckless going somewhere with someone I don’t really know, but I don’t care. This is the first time in a very long time I’ve felt that warm gushiness inside, so I can’t turn it down.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Alright, come with me.” He places his hand at the small of my back and leads me in the direction he wants me to go, telling me some of the history of the city as we continue. Once we reach a tavern and sit down, I order a glass of red wine and he orders a beer.
“Are things better with your family today?” I ask him, wondering if he’s actually going to answer something personal. He doesn’t seem to mind talking about random things, but we haven’t talked about anything personal today.
The waiter sets our drinks in front of us and moves along to another table toward the back of the restaurant.
“Not really. We buried my grandmother today. My mother’s mother. Funerals are never my thing, but it was more tense after last night’s argument. After that I don’t think there will be a big Christmas dinner with everyone this year.”
“Who were you arguing with? If you don’t want to answer, it’s okay.”
“Are you on question patrol?”
“Occupational hazard,” I quip as I bring my wine glass up to my lips.
“And what occupation would that be? Interrogator?”
This time I belly-laugh. “Sort of. I’m a lawyer.”
“You’re a lawyer? You’re shitting me.”
“No. What’s wrong with that? Do I look like a garbage woman or something?”
“It’s just not my experience that lawyers look like you or are as quiet as you.”
“You caught me on a quiet week. I’m not usually this…subdued.”
“Hmm,” he hums noncommittally.
“Okay, so avoidance is your tactic. What are you willing to talk about?”
“I’m not avoiding anything. I’m just trying to picture you in a sexy suit, strutting around a courtroom and giving someone hell.”
“You can keep doing that, but that’s not what I do. I’m a sports and entertainment lawyer. I represent athletes, authors, screen writers, movie stars, musicians. Those types of clients.”
“Fancy.” He smirks at me.
“Not really. It’s a lot of reading and looking for traps and loopholes. Most of my clients are pretty great and it can be interesting. It’s just not as glamourous as I thought it would be. So…”
Grinning, he shakes his head like he finds me both a little annoying and cute. “I was arguing with my uncle Harry. When he’s drinking, he can be an asshole and he was that night at the restaurant. He decided to take some verbal shots at me and I didn’t respond very well. My mom and dad tried to get involved and it got ugly quick. That’s when I decided a walk on the beach would be good.”
“Do you live with your parents?”
His whole body shakes with his laughter at my question. When he settles down, he takes another slug of his drink. “No, I live in Coronado, California. I’ve been out of the house for 11 years. This is my first trip home, exactly for these reasons. I don’t care for confrontation, especially with my family, and I knew it would happen.”
“Are they assholes? Your family, I mean.”
“No, only Uncle Harry. He’s a pain in the ass, but the rest of them are pretty awesome. Something went down 12 years ago that almost destroyed my family. Not long after that, I left. I’ve seen my parents several times over the years but it’s because they have come out to see me. When my grandmother died, I knew it was time for me to show my face.”
“I bet your mom was happy you came back.”
Fiddling with his beer glass, he doesn’t make eye contact. “Yeah, I think she is. My dad too. It’s just all so complicated.”
Before I can ask any more questions, he turns things around. “Why are you alone in St. Augustine at Christmastime?”
“I told you, my car broke down.” I give him an evasive answer.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re alone.”
“I just needed some time to myself. My family, friends and even coworkers have been up my ass this last year and I just wanted a peaceful break, so I took two weeks off from work and left for a road trip. So far, it’s been nice. Mamá called to harass me today, but other than that, it’s been quiet.”
“Your mother harassed you?” I can tell he’s laughing, but he’s never been at the mercy of the ultimate Latina mother who can be both emotional, pushy and all up in your business.
“Mamá is the cuddler, the protector, the punisher, the family gossip, my biggest fan and my toughest critic. She’s amazing and I love her more than life, but she’s also a force to be reckoned with. I bought her a plane ticket to spend the holidays with my sister and her family in Aviano, Italy, where my brother-in-law is stationed.”
&n
bsp; “Air Force,” he mutters.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“Aviano is an Air Force base.”
I look him over more closely, trying to figure out what I missed. “You obviously aren’t in the Air Force, too bulky. What branch of the service are you in?”
“Navy. I’d rather not talk about it though.”
“Okay, I understand.” I don’t really, but maybe he has a super-secret job he can’t discuss with me because I’m a civilian and he’d have to kill me if he told me.
“So tell me where you’re headed after your car is fixed?”
“Up the east coast. I’d like to end in New York City, watch the ball drop on New Year’s Eve and then drive back home the next day.”
“That’s a long trip alone and an unsafe one, running around the city by yourself. Especially on a night like that. The freaks are out and easy to blend in with the rest of the population.”
“I’ll be fine.” I throw back another swig of wine and wait for the lecture.
His tactic changes, surprising me. His eyes scan the room and settle back on me. “So why don’t you have an ounce of self-preservation? Most women are scared of their own shadow these days. Are you a ninja or something?”
“No.” I raise my hand and motion to the waiter to bring me another one and Devlin follows suit.
“The worst has already happened to me. I don’t really feel fear anymore.”
“Couldn’t have been the worst or you’d be dead, not sitting in front of me having a couple of glasses of wine.” He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest as if to challenge me.
“So maybe not the worst, but close enough. I was at an event in Miami last year where all the partygoers were held hostage and several were shot. I was one of the ones shot. I almost bled out on the floor.”
“I remember hearing about that. It was some supermodel’s bodyguards that saved you guys, right?”
I take a gulp of the wine and nod. “One of them is now engaged to my best friend, who was with me that night.”
“Lucky girl,” he remarks and takes another drink of his fresh beer.
“Yeah, Thomas is great,” I say honestly in almost a whisper.
We sit quietly. I’m not sure what he’s thinking as he finishes his beer, but I’m mentally pushing the memories back down into the no-feel zone where they belong. Finally, he finishes his last sip about a minute after me and declares, “Enough tough stuff for now. Let’s go check out the town.” He pulls out some bills, drops them on the table and takes my hand, pulling me out the door.” We spend the rest of the day wandering the streets, going in and out of shops, browsing the merchandise and chatting as we go. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt in a long time. A day where I find myself smiling genuinely.
Devlin
Hearing that Lucianna was one of the people injured in that gala shooting made my blood run cold. I was just returning from a mission in South America when I heard about it. The story was all over the news because of some of the high-profile celebrities at the event. It was a poorly run heist by amateurs, thank God, or the casualties could have been much higher. But more than anything, the thought of bullets tearing through her beautiful flesh made me angry beyond reason. No wonder she lost her fear. She probably doesn’t think anything worse can happen to her. Somehow, I need to impart on her that it can get worse. I’ve seen so much horrible shit in my life that she would never comprehend, but it confirms for me that life can get worse than even what she went through.
I’ve never been a man who enjoys shopping. I didn’t even like taking Bri when she was alive and I did almost anything for her. The only reason I suggested doing so was to spend more time with her. Sure, I’m trying to avoid my family a little, but mostly I want to hang out with her. I want to hear more of her story. I still can’t believe she’s a lawyer. I’ve seen too many movies, so when I think of a lawyer, I think of either an older, stately-looking man or a homely woman. I haven’t needed lawyers for anything in real life so I didn’t think about it. Her Puerto Rican heritage is obvious in her thick, dark wavy hair, chocolate-brown eyes and perfectly curvy figure. In my eyes, she’s more likely to be one of the models she represents than the lawyer.
We must go in and out of every shop there, stopping at every bar to have a drink and chat a little more. It’s getting close to dinnertime when I finally ask, “Do you want to grab a bite to eat? There’s a cool little seafood place not far from here.”
The smile she presents me with halts me in my tracks and I can’t help but return one of my own. I can’t remember the last time I felt this…content or interested in another person. Does she feel it too or is she just passing the time?
“Okay, I’ll get us an Uber. This place is pretty cool. It’s on stilts above the marsh. Great seafood with a Cajun flare.”
“Sounds interesting. I’m up for a new experience.”
A few minutes later, a blue sedan approaches and I open the door and lean in to confirm the driver’s identity before holding the door for her to climb inside. She slides all the way over and I slip in beside her, my hand accidentally brushing hers as I get adjusted. A warm, unexpected current travels along my fingers and up my arm. What was that?
After a second, she clears her throat and asks, “So how did you find this place?”
“My family has been coming here since I was a kid. My mom loves seafood and my dad loves anything that makes my mom happy.”
“What is your mom like?”
I glance out the window before I answer, thinking of my mom and all the years I’ve missed with her and the time that’s right in front of me that I’m ignoring on purpose. “Amazing. Strong, sweet, loving.” I pause, realizing I’ve never thanked her for being a good mom. Finally, I finish with, “Forgiving.”
Lucianna wraps her fingers around mine and I turn to her. I may not have filled her in on the pain of my last twelve years but she must sense it because empathy is written all over her face and in her touch. I should pull away and cancel dinner before this goes any further. No one has gotten this close to me in years and I don’t know if I’m ready.
“What about your dad?” Her voice is quiet when she asks this time.
“Strong, tough, protective, but still loving. Inflexible about some things. Still, he’s a good dad.” Ready to take the focus off of me, I ask, “What about your dad?”
She sighs. “A train wreck. He lives in Miami but I never see him. He came by once looking for money and I gave it to him but sent him on his way. He cheated on my mom repeatedly. When she finally had enough, she tossed him out on his ass and he disappeared from our lives for four years. We didn’t hear a peep from him. I was in high school when he finally showed up drunk on the doorstep. Mamá was at her second job and I was coming home from cheerleading practice. He’d lost a bunch of weight and looked sick, really sick. I called my brother and he skipped basketball practice to come home and deal with it. I still, to this day, don’t know what happened because Tino told me to go inside and not come back out. My father disappeared again after that and didn’t surface until after I’d graduated law school. He found me in Miami and claimed he wanted a relationship with me. He looked like he’d cleaned up, but it didn’t last long and he disappeared again until he needed money.
I’d love to jump out of this car, hunt that man down and kick his ass. He had a beautiful daughter who needed a father and he was a weak, addicted asshole. She deserved better.
“You have a brother?”
She lets go of my hand and places hers back in her lap, and I immediately miss her touch.
“I haven’t seen him since he went to jail.”
“Is he still in?”
“Yeah. Grand theft auto.”
“Damn. Why haven’t you gone to see him?”
“He refuses to see me. Says as a lawyer I shouldn’t be associated with a criminal like him. I cried for a week when he wouldn’t see me. Now I just accept it. I love my brother. I write him a lette
r every week even if I don’t have anything to say, because I don’t ever want him to feel alone. He gave up a lot for me, Mamá and Selena. I don’t condone Tino stealing that car, but I understand where his head was at when he did it. He was trying to make money to help my mother out.”
“What about your sister? You said she lives in Italy?”
“Selena is married to Tommy and they have two daughters. Liliana, who is five, and Gracie, who is three. Tommy has another year left on his orders there and then they will come back stateside. She met him while she was working as a waitress in an all-night diner near MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa and going to college during the day. He came in one night after carousing with his buddies and fell in love. She wouldn’t have anything to do with him at first, thinking he was a drinker like our father. He came in every night after that and sat in her section until she went out with him. He has a similar history with his dad, so he rarely drinks. He’s been good to her and they’re happy. Mamá misses her and the grandbabies terribly, so we will be glad when they come back home.
“What about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Bile rises in my throat. I hate this question for obvious reasons. Usually I answer no when someone asks so I don’t have to answer questions, but I can’t lie to Luci. I open my mouth and try, but no words come out. Thank God, we pull into the restaurant and I’m able to ignore the question by leading her inside and giving her the history of this place as we’re seated.
We place our drink orders and are quiet as we browse the menu. I don’t really need to even look at it since I know it like the back of my hand, but I pretend to, hoping to avoid the sibling subject. The server returns and takes our order, and as soon as he leaves, Lucianna doesn’t miss a beat. “So, brothers and sisters?” She grins at me as she asks, not realizing that I’m avoiding the topic.
I clench and unclench my fist on the table, processing the question and how I’m going to answer it. My stomach pitches and rolls. Her expression changes as she waits. “If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to.”
