“Pssht.” She let out a dismissive sound that made it crystal clear that she wasn’t going anywhere.
He may’ve only known Leah a few days, but he could see that no amount of insisting was going to sway her. She struck him as the stubborn sort.
With an audible sigh, she plopped herself down on one of the chairs in the waiting room. His brain was sure the movement was not intended to be seductive, but that was exactly how it was registering to other parts of his anatomy.
The material of her skirt parted, causing the high slit to reveal her entire upper thigh. From the worried expression on her face, it was clear that she was oblivious to how much skin she was showing or what it was doing to him.
“I should’ve kept looking for him,” she stated, oblivious to the affect she had on him.
“For who?”
“The dog. Susan, the woman from across the street, told me last night that there was a stray in the neighborhood. I drove around and looked for him for a little while, but I should’ve looked longer. If I had this never would’ve happened.”
“I saw him this morning.”
She turned her head and looked at Lance, her forehead creasing as she did. “You did?”
“Yeah, I was finishing up my run and I saw him. I went to the house to grab a leash and treats and when I came out he was gone.”
Her face softened as her eyes widened. “You went to get a leash and treats?”
“Yeah.” He wasn’t sure why she’d asked that. It seemed like the logical thing to do. “But he was gone when I came back out. I went down to the river and looked around a little. I even asked the woman that hit him with her car—”
“Mrs. Daly,” she interjected.
“I asked her if she’d seen him. She said that she had, yesterday. I walked around for about ten minutes looking for him, but then I gave up. If I’d found him, this wouldn’t have happened.”
A tiny grin lifted on the edges of her mouth. “Are we arguing over whose fault it is that a stray dog got hit by a car?”
Seeing the worry disappear from her face, even if it was only for a moment, caused a warm feeling to wash over him. He felt her shift in mood on a cellular level, it heated him from the inside.
She was obviously not experiencing the same sensation because he noticed goosebumps rising on her legs and arms as she shivered beside him.
He stood. “I’ll be right back.”
Leah rubbed her arms as she nodded.
As he walked through the office he found the break room and started the coffee maker. After that, he located a blanket in a closet and threw it in the dryer. Within a few minutes, he was back with a cup of coffee and a warm blanket.
He handed her both without saying a word.
Her lips parted as her eyes widened to the size of half-dollars. “Thank you.”
She wrapped the blanket around her and the sound of satisfaction that fell from her lips shot straight to his groin. Then, she lifted the cup to her mouth, closed her eyes, took a sip, and moaned in bliss. His balls tingled as his shaft hardened and he had to adjust himself before sitting down. Thankfully, her eyes were closed so she didn’t see his body’s reaction.
Once she’d taken several sips that—judging from the sounds escaping from her, she enjoyed—she opened her eyes and looked at him.
“Better?” he asked.
“Not better.” She shook her head as a lazy smile lifted on her face as she practically purred, “Perfect.”
At her declaration, a totally undeserved swell of pride filled his chest. He loved being the man that caused her to make those sexy sounds of satisfaction and put that smile on her face. He wanted to keep doing it, even though he knew that wasn’t going to happen.
They stared at each other and the electricity that always seemed to flow between them was even more amped as the two sat quietly in the waiting room. He wasn’t sure if it was because they’d been through a dramatic event together, or if it was the surroundings. There was a unique intimacy to the darkened, empty waiting room. He’d never felt it before, but he was beginning to realize that around Leah, feeling things that he’d never felt before was to be expected.
She snuggled into the chair, burrowing herself into the blanket. She looked so adorable sitting there with her hair loosely piled on top of her head, wrapped up like a burrito with only her hands and face peeking out.
“I needed this.” She took another sip from the mug. “I barely got any sleep last night.”
Those words hit him like a punch in the gut. The last thing he wanted to hear about was her date keeping her awake. He sipped his own coffee and remained quiet, hoping she would change the subject.
He could feel her eyes on him but he continued looking straight ahead.
“He’s going to be okay.” Her hand settled over his thigh and his dick jumped at the contact.
“Who?” He turned to look at her.
Her brows knitted. “The dog.”
“Oh. Yeah.” That wasn’t what was upsetting him. The dog was in good hands, his grandfather was an incredible vet. There was nothing that Lance could do now, so he was focusing on what he could control.
Her left brow arched as she studied his face. “That’s not what was bothering you, was it?”
“Why do you think something was bothering me?” he questioned, trying not to think about how soft her hand felt covering his.
“You got all…” She lifted her shoulders up to her ears and the blanket slipped down revealing her ample cleavage. Cleavage that he did not allow himself to look at.
“I looked like I had no neck.”
Her shoulders dropped as she rolled her eyes. “Stressed. You looked stressed.”
“I didn’t get much sleep either.” His response didn’t exactly make sense, but it was the best he could come up with.
“Did you have an eighty-pound dog hogging the bed, too?” she quipped.
“Your date had a dog?”
“What?” For a nanosecond, she appeared confused, but then recognition lit her face. “Oh, no! I spent the night at Bea’s. And it’s a stretch to call it a date. I didn’t even make it through one drink. Hell, I didn’t even make it to ordering one drink.”
Lance had always assumed that the relief he felt walking out of the state penitentiary after serving eight years behind bars would never be rivaled. He’d been wrong. Hearing that she’d spent the night at her sister’s and that she wouldn’t even classify her activity last night as a date filled him with a near euphoric level of relief.
“What happened?” He took another sip of coffee.
She exhaled and shook her head. “He was an asshole.”
Lance truly could not fathom what sort of idiot would blow it so epically in the first few minutes of a date with the goddess seated beside him.
“I did try.” There was a defensiveness in her tone. “Not for him. Mainly because I wanted to test my theory.”
Right, the theory that she should date someone she wasn’t attracted to.
“But I didn’t get the chance since he pulled a deal breaker in the first sixty seconds of knowing him.”
Curiosity was killing him. He didn’t want to know what her deal breaker was, he had to know. “What deal breaker?”
“He called me a bleeding-heart animal lover. Which isn’t bad in and of itself. I am a bleeding-heart animal lover. But it was the way he said it, in such a derisive tone. Still, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and asked him if he liked animals. He said he did, he liked to eat them, and laughed at what I assume he thought was a hilarious joke.
“That’s when I decided to cut my losses and bounce. When I tried to make a graceful exit, he grabbed my wrist and refused to let go.” She removed the hand that been resting on his leg and touched the wrist of her hand holding her coffee cup. When she did Lance noticed that there was some discoloration on her skin.
His blood boiled. Every primal instinct roared to life in his body. He was vibrating with rage as he looked at
the red marking on her fair skin. “He did that?” Without intending it, his question came out in growl form.
“Whoa, calm down Bruce Banner–” She patted his forearm and smiled. “I handled it.”
“How?” he demanded.
“I kneed him in his baby maker.” Her cheeks lifted as she smiled from ear to ear, clearly proud of herself. “I left him on the floor grabbing himself like a kindergartner whose teacher won’t let him use the restroom after he downed ten Capri Suns at recess.”
That was all it took for her to diffuse the time bomb of anger that was about to detonate. The thought of her knocking that prick to his knees combined with the smile that was the kind men wrote songs about, was all it took for him to feel peace again.
“Bruce Banner?” he questioned as an inner calm settled over him, the kind he normally had to consciously focus on in order to produce.
“The Hulk.” She puffed out her chest and lifted her arms to the side in way of demonstration. “You were about to Hulk-out.”
She’d obviously noticed his reaction to hearing that a man had put hands on her. Instead of addressing that, he commented, “You make a lot of superhero references.”
She grinned as she took another sip of coffee. “And you make a perfect cup of coffee. How do you do it?”
“A lot of practice.” He wanted to tell her that his expertise had come from his time behind bars, but he stopped himself from revealing that fact. Once people knew that he’d been locked up, and especially once they knew what it was for, they treated and looked at him differently. He didn’t blame them. It was human nature.
And it wasn’t like they always treated him badly. Some women, maybe most women, seemed to be more attracted to him after learning about his incarceration. He figured it was the whole bad boy thing.
Typically, it didn’t bother him either way. He’d learned a long time ago that he couldn’t control what people thought about him, it was futile to try. So instead, he focused on what he could control: himself. It was the only way he had a shot at having any sort of lasting inner peace.
But like with everything else, Leah was different. He didn’t want her to see him through the lens of his past. He wanted her to keep looking at him for who he was, Lance.
She was one of the only people he’d ever met that he felt truly saw him. The thought of how that would change once she knew the truth was not something he was ready to face. Yet.
Chapter 12
Leah’s eyes watered as a yawn claimed her. The computer screen in front of her was blurry as she did her best to concentrate on inventory. The task was always boring but keeping her head in the game today was damn near impossible. She’d nodded off three times in the last fifteen minutes.
But it didn’t matter how mind-numbingly dull it was. She’d promised Bea that she would get it done today. In all of the self-help mumbo jumbo she’d read over the past few months, keeping your word, even to yourself—or rather especially to yourself—was important.
The effects of barely getting any sleep the past two nights, first because of sharing the house with Lance and then because of Indy, were definitely kicking in. And now that the adrenaline from the morning had worn off, she was struggling to stay awake.
She rubbed her eyes and decided that as soon as Bea got there, which should be at noon, she would run across the street to get another coffee. That would make her third cup today. The first was served to her by Lance at the clinic.
When he’d excused himself, she’d figured he’d probably had to use the bathroom. Then, when he came back with a blanket—and not just any blanket, but a warm blanket—and a cup of coffee, she had damn near got down on one knee and proposed!
How could she not?
What woman could possibly be immune to that sort of treatment from a man that looked like him, cooked like him, and saved dogs like him? All the frogs she’d kissed, and she’d never expected any of them to turn into Prince Charming. Lance already was, and she hadn’t even kissed him yet.
Her phone dinged and she looked down to see that she’d just gotten a text from Meg at the vet office. That morning, after Doc had informed them that the dog was in stable condition but needed surgery because there was some internal bleeding, he’d told both Lance and Leah to go home and that he would update them once the surgery was over.
“The dog is doing good. He’s out of surgery and Doc says he expects him to make a full recovery,” Leah announced to Jasmine, who was grooming Tater Tot, a Labradoodle puppy so cute Leah wanted to eat him up.
“Oh, thank God.” Jasmine sighed in visible relief.
Doc had assured both her and Lance that he expected the dog to pull through the routine procedure, but when Leah’d told Jasmine about the internal bleeding, her expression had let Leah know that the surgery might not be as “routine” as Doc had led her to believe.
Leah’d immediately felt a knot in the pit of her stomach, but all she’d said to Jasmine was that she needed to work on her poker face before dealing with patients.
It had been a long morning of low-key anxiety waiting for her phone to chime, but now Leah texted back, thanking Meg for the update and asking her to let her know if there were any changes. Before she’d even pressed send, another yawn overtook her. This one lasted longer than the others.
“I can handle things here if you want to head out,” Jasmine offered.
“Thanks, but Trigger’s coming in.” Trigger was a Maltipoo whose name had been switched from Truffle after his owners Margie and Mabel—or the M&M sisters, as they were affectionately known—discovered his hair-trigger temper. One second Trigger was fine and the next his teeth were bared and he was in full-on attack mode.
He’d drawn blood with Bea on more than one occasion, but he never tried that shit with Leah. Apparently, he recognized the alpha dog in her.
Jasmine—sweet, sweet Jasmine—put on a brave face. “I can handle him.”
“I know you can, but it’s fine. I don’t mind staying.” Leah was totally confident that Jasmine could handle anything, the girl was studying to be a vet tech and was capable of navigating any behavioral issue. But Leah also knew how much smoother things would go if she stayed. Plus, she was really doubling down on the whole keeping-her-word of it all so, she was going to stay for her entire shift.
Part of the perks of owning the shop with her sister Bea, who was the poster child for responsibility, was that Leah could flake on things, leave the shop early, not complete tasks, and her sister would pick up the slack. And bless Bea’s heart, she never complained about it.
In Leah’s defense, Bea knew exactly who she was getting into business with. The roles that they played had been the same since Leah could remember. Bea was the “good” one and Leah was the “wild” one. But Leah was ready to grow up. She was creeping up on thirty and if she didn’t learn how to be a responsible adult now, then when?
As she continued to input the inventory in the computer, her mind wandered to the man upstairs. Not the metaphorical Man Upstairs, but the literal one.
Lance James.
They’d spent about half an hour sitting, side by side, in the waiting room that morning.
She’d talked to him about Bea and what it was like growing up as a twin. He told her about losing his mom the year before and growing up living in the basement of his grandparents’ brownstone. He’d told her that he’d learned to cook from his nonna and learned his work ethic from his nonno, who’d worked seven days a week until the day he died to provide for his family.
She’d told him about her parent’s political ambitions and how she didn’t fit into their cookie cutter family. How she truly believed that her parents never really wanted kids, they’d just needed props for their political campaigns. She’d asked him about some of his tattoos and he’d asked her about running a business with her sister.
The conversation had flowed easily and the time had passed in the blink of an eye. It was strange but she simultaneously felt as if she’d barely scratched
the surface of getting to know him and that she’d known him her entire life.
They had a connection. There was no denying that. One that intensified every moment they were together.
Fighting it was a losing battle, but Leah found herself doing just that. She might not’ve been the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, but even she knew that falling in love with Lance was going to end badly for her.
She didn’t blame herself. How could she? Between his ninja compliments that always took her by surprise, his master-level culinary skills, his Hemsworth-worthy physique, his god-like tattoo skills—which she had yet to witness in person, but hoped to one day—and on top of all that, he was the coolest person she’d ever spent time with. She didn’t have a shot in hell of not falling for him.
She was lost in La La Lance Land when the bell that hung above the door dinged. She looked up expecting to see the M&M sisters bringing in Trigger, but instead, a woman walked through the door. Leah couldn’t quite place how she knew her, although she did look very familiar.
The stunning brunette was wearing charcoal slacks and a powder blue blouse that complemented her fair complexion and matched her sky-blue eyes. She struck Leah as the type of person who, unlike Leah, had mastered the art of adulting.
“Hi, can I help you?” Leah smiled.
“I’m Clancy Grant with Channel Eight News, are you Leah Porter?”
Leah felt silly for not recognizing her right away. Clancy Grant was an investigative journalist who covered human interest stories for the local news, and her segments were sometimes picked up nationally.
One of her most popular running segments was called Dating Disasters. She would track down people who had catfished prospective mates, and also interview people after they’d been on horrible dates.
One time, a woman was featured saying that a man had dined and ditched on her. Clancy had tracked the ditcher down only to find out he was married with five kids. Leah remembered thinking that it might’ve been the only way the guy could eat, what with all those mouths to feed.
Oh. Shit.
Is that why Clancy was here? Had Brock called and reported her kicking him in the balls? That piece of shit was going to put Leah on blast after he’d left a mark on her wrist.
Just One Look - Leah and Lance (Crossroads Book 15) Page 11
