Vague questions were getting her nowhere, it was time to get specific. “When’s the last time you saw them?”
He was quiet for a minute and Leah took a sip of her soda.
He finally said, “I think I was ten.”
“Ten?!” Leah wasn’t sure exactly how old the guy was, since her investigation had garnered zilch in the way of personal info, but she would guess he was hovering around thirty. “Why?”
“You know how it goes.”
Leah started to question what he meant by that—perhaps with some kind of sassy retort like, Oh my god, if I knew how it went, do you think I would have just shrieked the word ‘ten’ at a pitch that only my canine clients recognize?—but then she realized that she and Bea hadn’t seen their parents for almost eight years.
Once they didn’t show up for Jordan’s funeral to support their daughter, Leah decided she was going to stop making an effort. Since then, they’d only spoken a few times a year.
Families were complicated, she got that. It was just that Doc and Kitty were such amazing humans, and Lance freakin’ James was their grandson, yet they never talked about him and he hadn’t seen them since he was ten.
As much as she wanted to follow up on that line of questioning, another more pressing issue was on the tip of her tongue. She had no idea why she was so nervous to ask him about his tattooing. It was a normal conversation for people to have, yet she couldn’t seem to bring herself to say the words.
“I heard that you rented the space above the shop, is that for work?”
Lance nodded.
She would say that getting information out of him was like pulling teeth, but extracting impacted wisdom teeth sounded like a walk in the park compared to this.
“What do you do for work?”
There, that wasn’t so hard.
“I’m a tattoo artist.”
“Oh really? I was thinking about getting another one. I have six.”
Lance’s eyes dipped just for a split second to her left hip. It was covered by her jeans, but she wondered if he’d caught a peek of her purple lily hip tat the night before, since her pj bottoms were fairly short.
If she’d blinked, she would’ve missed it, and the flash of heat that flared in his gaze before his eyes met hers once more.
Usually when she told someone that she had six tattoos, they asked what or where they were. Sometimes both. He asked neither.
“Do you have an Instagram account where I can see your work?” She took another bite of the savory, juicy dinner and waited for his response.
It was a good thing she wasn’t holding her breath, because he didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at her with an expression that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
She didn’t understand the reticence. Why Lance James would do anything less than walk around with a T-shirt announcing “LANCE JAMES, TATTOO GOD” was beyond her realm of comprehension.
The only thing she could fathom was that his hesitancy was due to some sort of shyness. He’d posted a graphic announcing that he was there in Harper’s Crossing on his IG story, so there was no way that his reluctance was because he didn’t want anyone to know where he was.
“I don’t really like social media.”
Argh! His non-answers were working her very last nerve.
This whole “mysterious act” might be some people’s cup o’ tea, but Leah was losing patience for it. She was nothing if not blunt. Lance may’ve thrown her for a loop and caused her to act very un-Leah-like, but if there was anything that would snap her back to herself, it was irritation. Patience was a virtue that Leah had never possessed.
“Oh, for the love of all that is holy! I know who you are!”
“You do?”
“Yes, I do.”
His lip twitched at the corner and Leah could see that he found this amusing, which only added fuel to her irritation fire.
“You’re Lance James,” she blurted out.
“Why did you ask if you already knew?”
“Because I…” Leah started to defend herself then stopped short. No way did she want to reveal the real reason—that she hadn’t wanted to out herself as the fangirl she was. She figured her only play was to shift the conversation away from herself. “Why didn’t you just say who you were?”
“It was more fun this way.”
“More fun?” Leah repeated.
“Yep.” Lance’s lips turned up in what could only be described as a sexy half-grin and Leah’s heart jumped in her chest.
She did her best not to be distracted by his overwhelming sex-appeal. She had to stay on task! It was difficult, though. Clearing her throat, she asked, “You knew that I figured out who you were, didn’t you?”
He didn’t verbally respond, which was by no means a shocker, but his grin grew wider.
“How?” she demanded.
For a moment she wondered if he’d overheard them discussing him at the shop, but she quickly dismissed that idea. He would’ve had to be in the shop to hear them.
So how? How did he know?
She hadn’t seen him until now, so she knew that she hadn’t given it away.
He remained quiet and Leah had to restrain herself from flicking a red pepper at his smug face. Thankfully, before any food went flying, he spoke. “Jasmine stopped by the hospital to visit Kitty.”
“Ahh.” Mystery solved.
She loved Jasmine and trusted her with her life, but the girl was a talker and she had no chill whatsoever. She could only imagine how excited Jas must’ve been to run into Lance, and she was sure that she spilled that she and Leah were both fans of his work. Leah could easily see her fangirling over Lance.
As irritated as she was that she’d been outed by her employee and friend, she couldn’t blame the girl. Lance was an impressive person, and even though Leah herself had all the chill in the world, she still found it difficult not to fangirl.
“So, how long have you been tattooing?”
“Professionally, ten years.”
He took another bite and Leah got the distinct impression that he wasn’t comfortable with the conversation being focused on him. He wasn’t a big communicator, but she sensed that there was something more to it than just that.
Usually men loved to talk about themselves, and they were much less impressive than the man sitting across from her. She went out with a guy last month who had spent two hours telling her about changing his tire, as if that was some special skill. But she had to use the jaws of life to pry information out of Lance.
“You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?” she observed.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t see the point.”
As frustrating as that answer was, at least it was an answer that revealed something. Not much, but something. “You don’t see the point? Okay, I’ll bite. Why don’t you see the point?”
“Just because someone asks a question doesn’t mean they really listen to the answer. They hear what they want to hear. Most people have their own narrative about who you are and what they think of you. They use your words to support that narrative.”
Leah opened her mouth to argue that wasn’t the case, but realized that she agreed with him so she shut it again. When she thought about it, most people she knew fit that profile. She was lucky that she’d always had Bea in her life.
Since moving to Harper’s Crossing, she’d made some really great friends who truly did care to listen to her…or at least, they cared about her and that meant they listened. But those women were not the rule, they were the exceptions to it.
“Well, I’m not most people,” Leah stated firmly.
His eyes locked with hers and a rush of warmth swept over her. “I know.”
Two things struck her about his response. First, there was a weight to his words that she’d never felt before. And second, she took it as a compliment.
The intensity in his stare combined with the gravelly quality to his voice sent her st
omach plunging. Just like the time she’d gone on the Big Dipper roller coaster at the county fair.
Danger! Danger ahead!
Needing to change the subject, and quick, she turned the conversation back to him. She still wanted more information.
“So is James your middle name?”
“No.”
“Why do you use it?”
It was not a difficult question, but that didn’t stop Lance from not answering it. Silence once again fell between them. She’d broken once and blurted out that she knew who he was. This time, she wasn’t going to break.
Even though it went against every instinct she had, she was determined not to speak. If he wanted to let her question dangle in the air, then so be it. It could dangle all day.
* * *
Leah stared at him but didn’t say anything. He wondered if she were trying to use his own technique on him. He smirked. It’s cute she thinks she can do that.
He was coming to realize he thought everything she did was cute. It didn’t matter, though. Her efforts might be cute, but they were also futile. Little did she know that when it came to feeling pressure to speak during silences, awkward or otherwise, he was immune.
Still, there was something so compelling about Leah. Lance took a drink while he considered how much he wanted to open up. Normally, the answer would be easy. He wouldn’t. At all.
But this was Leah, and she was different. Not just because he was renting a room from her. He also felt a connection with her. He felt like he could talk to her. Like he wanted to talk to her.
“I use it for privacy.”
He could see that his admission did little to satisfy her curiosity. If anything, she appeared even more frustrated. “So you just picked James out of thin air and used it for privacy?”
“James was my grandpa, my mom’s dad. He was…” Lance’s throat clogged with emotion, the way it did every time he thought about his grandfather. “He was an amazing man.”
Leah’s expression softened. “Was?”
“He died.”
“I’m so sorry.” She reached out and covered his hand with hers. Her touch was brief, since the instant their skin made contact, she pulled her hand back as if she’d just touched the pan he’d cooked the fajitas in.
But that single second of contact was all it had taken to solidify his hunch that Leah was potent as hell and, unlike feeling the social pressure to speak during silences, he was not immune to her.
The moment hung between them, crackling with intensity, and he wondered if she was as affected by him as he was by her. He could ask, but what would be the point?
There were already three strikes against them. First, she’d made her feelings on anything happening between them very clear. Second, Doc had also made it clear, in his own way, that Leah was off-limits. And third, he was attracted to her, which meant there had to be something wrong with her.
Three very good reasons. So why did he feel a gnawing ache in his gut at the absence of her touch, even though he’d only felt it for a split second?
Lance shook his head a little, trying to clear it. He had to get it together. The two relationships he’d had were disasters. He was a realist, pragmatic by nature. He wasn’t going to get the family and white picket fence, and he knew, deep down, that he only had himself to blame for that.
“Oh shit.” Leah abruptly stood and knocked her glass over. Thankfully it was empty. “I have to go. I have a date.”
“A date?!” Just last night she’d told him that she wasn’t dating.
“Yes.” Challenge sparked in her eyes. “Is that so shocking?”
“A little bit.”
“Really?” She crossed her arms and he did his best not to notice the way her ample chest pressed against the thin cotton of her shirt. “Why is that?”
“I thought you said you weren’t dating.”
“No, I didn’t,” she denied his claim.
She didn’t strike him as a compulsive liar, so her answer confused the shit out of him.
“I said that I’m not dating anyone that I’m attracted to. No bad boys. No tattoos. No motorcycles.”
Hearing her say it now refreshed his memory. He’d been so turned on at the time he hadn’t caught the significance of her statement the night before.
“So the guy, or girl,” he added, not wanting to be presumptuous, “you’re seeing tonigh—”
“Guy,” she clarified. “As much as I’d love to remove all dicks from my life, it’s just not my thing.”
“You’re not attracted to the guy that you’re seeing tonight.”
“In theory, no.”
“In theory?”
“He’s an accountant who likes Sci-fi and sushi,” she listed, as if that cleared everything up.
Conversations with Leah were quickly becoming his favorite thing in the world. He never knew where they would go. Her responses were never what he expected.
She continued, “I haven’t met him yet, but from his photo and on paper he’s not my type, so I seriously doubt I’ll be attracted to him.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” He’d never been more intrigued in his life.
“Because, once my hormones get involved, it’s game over. Since I hit puberty, my heart and head haven’t got a vote. It’s been fun, don’t get me wrong, but I’m done with just fun. I want something real. And the only way to achieve that is if my hormones are out of the picture.”
Lance had to admit that there was actually some logic in her plan. He knew it would never work, but he had to give her some credit for trying. He’d noticed when he’d cleaned up this morning that she had a dozen or so self-help books on her shelves. He wondered if one of them had inspired what he was sure would be her ill-fated experiment.
“It’s an interesting strategy,” he conceded.
She smiled, looking very proud of herself as she started to turn. He knew that he should let her go. He knew that he shouldn’t say another word.
“But it’s never going to work,” he stated firmly.
She spun back toward him, eyebrows raised. “Excuse me?”
“You’re never going be happy with someone that you’re not attracted to.”
“Yes, I will,” she argued, but he could see that she wasn’t quite as convinced as she wanted to let on. “Love can grow even if there isn’t an initial attraction. Haven’t you ever heard of arranged marriages? A lot of relationships don’t have fireworks in the beginning, but they manage to build happy, long-lasting lives together.”
“Maybe they do. But you can’t.”
“You think I’m that shallow that I can’t grow to love someone?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did,” she maintained.
“No. I didn’t.”
She opened her mouth, in what he was sure was going to be another protest, but then she shut it. He wondered if she remembered what he’d said about why he didn’t like to talk about himself. That other people just heard what they wanted to hear, like she was doing now.
Her lips pursed for a moment before she asked, “So what are you saying?”
He knew that he was playing with fire, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d get burned. But for some reason, that didn’t matter.
“I’m saying that you’re not shallow. You’re the opposite of shallow. You feel things deeply. Deeper than most people know. You are loyal, passionate, and fiercely protective of the people you love. I don’t think your hormones are the reason you haven’t had anything real. I think you’ve used them as a distraction to protect yourself from having anything real.
“I think that you haven’t been ready for anything real, so you’ve settled for fun. I’m saying that you could never be happy growing to love someone, not when you feel things the way you do. You need to be with someone who stimulates you on every level, body, mind, and spirit.”
Lance forced himself to shut his mouth, something he’d never had
to do in his life. He’d said too much. He knew that. She had every right to tell him to go to hell or laugh in his face.
Instead her response was quiet. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “You don’t know me.”
Her vulnerability spurred him on more. “Maybe not. But I do know that you say what’s on your mind. You don’t cook, but you appreciate good food. You’re unapologetic in your messiness—”
“I’m not that mess—” she spoke over him, but he continued.
“And I know that your cheeks flush and your breath catches when I look at you.”
She stopped speaking and, as if on cue, her cheeks flushed and her breath caught.
“And I know that you should never settle for anyone less than someone who makes you blush and takes your breath away.”
“Holy shit.” She shook her head and looked at him like he was an alien. “Who are you?”
“Lance James, but you already knew that.”
Her lips parted as they spread into a full smile that spanned from ear to ear. His chest expanded. Leah’s smile could light up the world.
He was waiting anxiously to hear what her response was going to be, but before she answered her phone dinged.
“Shit. I have to go.”
She grabbed her purse and rushed out of the room. He sat staring at the glass that she’d knocked over and he realized he knew one more thing. He’d happily clean up her mess for the rest of his life if it meant seeing that smile on her face. And that scared him more than anything he’d ever faced.
Chapter 9
“Lance James just stared into my soul and said the most romantic things anyone has ever said to me, and I’m going on a date with Brock Boring Mc Boringster. What the hell is wrong with me?” Leah asked herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.
The moment they’d just shared had felt more intimate than if she’d had sex with him, and that was unnerving as fuck to her. Everything he’d said kept replaying in her mind. She couldn’t stop thinking about it.
She did her best to push their conversation out of her head. She absolutely refused to let him get to her. She wasn’t sure why he was playing mind games with her, but she knew that he was. No man was that sensitive, that intuitive, that sexy, and that talented.
Just One Look - Leah and Lance (Crossroads Book 15) Page 8
