Crush (16 page)

“Like a punching bag,” she said, grabbing another suitcase and following me. “Aunt Lucy and I are going to finish unpacking. Let me know if you need anything, LJ.”

“Are the brownies done yet?” LJ asked, his eyes glued to the TV.

Holly glanced at the timer on the microwave. “Another twenty minutes.”

“Okay,” he said, sounding like twenty minutes was an eternity. “I love you, Mom.”

All the stress lines on Holly’s face ironed out. “I love you, Jude.”

“It’s LJ,” he said, looking away just long enough to meet Holly’s gaze.

“Sorry, I forgot,” she said. “I love you,
LJ
.”

Damn. The kid could pee on any and every surface in the apartment if he kept saying stuff like that. The apartment felt full again. I felt full again.

Mostly.

I knew no matter how many bodies I packed into the place, it would never be enough to fill the void Jude had left behind. No one could fill that empty place except for him.

Heaving the suitcase on top of the bed, I unzipped it and got to work. I’d already put on fresh sheets and emptied out the closet and drawers to make room for Holly and LJ.

“Lucy, I still don’t feel right taking your room,” Holly said, tossing her bag onto the bed as well. “I mean, it’s your place. You should get the bedroom.”

“Would you stop already?” I said, opening the top dresser drawer before layering LJ’s pants into it. “It’s done. My decision’s final. End of subject.”

“I love it when you talk bitch to me,” Holly said, snagging a few hangers from the closet. “It gets me all excited.”

I laughed and tossed her LJ’s coat to hang up. “How’s the job search going? Any luck so far?”

I loved that I was friends with a woman who believed in creating her own destiny.

“I start tomorrow night,” she said proudly, sliding a teeny-weeny dress onto a hanger.

“Amazing. You can find a job in this town from across the country in a weekend’s time. It took me weeks, and even then, I had to have a friend’s older brother throw me a job bone.”

Holly shrugged. “I had to have a friend’s help, too.” She smiled at me before situating a few hangers back into the closet.

“What salon did you get on with?”

“Les Cheveux Chic,” she said. “And it’s only, like, a half mile away, so I can walk to work.”

“Wow. That’s one of the best salons in town, Holly,” I said, impressed. “Way to go.”

“Yeah, well, I guess they were desperate for someone, with all the new business they’ve been getting, so when the owner heard I’d been clipping and dyeing my share of heads for five years, she pretty much hired me right then over the phone.” Holly scooped an armload of bras and panties from her suitcase. I think every color of the rainbow was represented, as well as every pattern and fabric. Not a bad collection for a girl who claimed to go sans underwear half the time. “However, my schedule sucks balls. I’m working nights and weekends and have a grand total of one day off.” Sliding open a dresser drawer in the closet that had been Jude’s, she dropped her racy unmentionables inside.

“What hours at night?”

“Six to ten Monday through Thursday,” she answered. “Apparently the salon’s trying to be friendlier to working women.”

“And here I’d been under the impression working women worked nights,” I teased, pulling out the next drawer.

“Who’s been telling on me?” Holly threw back, slingshotting a bright yellow thong at my face.

I dodged it before it landed on me. “I bet working those night shifts when you have all those professionals coming in, you’ll make a ton in tips.”

“Probably,” she said with a shrug, “but I’m having a hell of a time finding child care for Jude. It seems every day care in this town closes by six o’clock, and if I can’t find day care, then I can’t take the job.”

I smiled. It was nice to be able to help out. “I happen to know of a certain auntie’s child care that’s got an opening and is available twenty-four-seven.”

Holly froze, right before her face wrinkled. “No way, Lucy. No, no, no way,” she said. “You’ve done about ten times too much already. There’s no way I could let you babysit my little man four nights a week plus the entire weekend. No. Way.”

I rolled my eyes. Holly didn’t understand that I wasn’t doing this strictly out of the goodness of my heart. I wanted someone to fill my time so I wouldn’t mope around pining for Jude. I couldn’t imagine anyone who was more up to the task of distracting me than LJ.

“Yes way,” I replied, sliding the drawer closed.

“Don’t you even think about arguing with me on this, Lucy Larson,” Holly warned, wagging a finger at me. “Because I will win.”

I wasn’t planning on arguing. I was planning on being victorious.

“Holly, you and LJ are like family. I love you both. Let me do this.”

My pleas were working. A little.

“Come on. This solves both of our problems. You need someone to watch LJ and I need someone to keep me company.” Holding up a little shirt of his that read,
LADIES’ MAN
, I continued. “It’s a win-win.”

Holly’s mouth had fallen open about midway through my last spiel. Shaking her head, she looked at me like I was certifiable. “Are you serious, Lucy?” she asked. “You do realize what you just witnessed isn’t just a sugar high, right? That’s the way he is all day, every day. It’s nonstop, on-the-top-of-your-game supervision.”

I crossed my arms. “Are you done yet?” I asked.

“Are you done yet?” she mimicked.

“No, I’m not. I can go all night long, baby,” I said. “I’m not giving up until I get my way, so why don’t you save us the time and effort and just cave already.”

A few moments passed in silence. Nothing but the sound of that trippy-ass music filling the apartment, before her eyes went a little watery. “Come here, you stubborn, sweet woman,” she said, flapping her arms.

I let Holly hug me until I felt like I was going to pass out again.

A couple hours later, the apartment was dark and, other than LJ’s little man-snoring, quiet. In two hours’ time, we’d managed to get them unpacked, worked out a weekly schedule that detailed when I’d be watching LJ as well as a chore and shopping list, bathed LJ (which was more like what I imagined it would be like to wrestle with a slippery sea lion), and cleaned up not one, but two cups of spilled milk.

Neither LJ nor I cried over it, but Holly was close when spill number two wound up on my coat. I’d sent her to bed, promising I’d send LJ in right after he’d had his third try at a cup of milk.

I added
spill-proof cup
to the shopping list before tucking him in next to Holly, who was already so deep in sleep she didn’t even shift when LJ crawled in beside her.

Until my bed got here, I was camping out on the couch, which was pretty comfortable when you paired it with a couple of cozy blankets and pillows. Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I felt myself drifting off to sleep. The day had been exhausting for me, too.

That was when my phone rang.

I snapped awake. I couldn’t believe I’d almost forgotten Jude’s and my nightly call. Blinking to clear my sleepy eyes, I accepted the Face Time request.

“Hey, handsome,” I said, sounding as tired as I felt.

“Shit. Did I wake you, Luce?” His forehead creased, but his mouth stayed formed in a smile.

“If you’d waited another thirty seconds you would have,” I said, shifting onto my elbows. “It was one hell of a day.”

“Good or bad hell of a day?”

“Pretty great really. Just busy. And exhausting,” I said. “Even better now that I get to end it with you.” I took him in, letting myself soak up as much of Jude as I could through the phone. This was all I got for another twenty-four hours. He was back in his hotel after finally coming to his senses that we didn’t need a ten-thousand-square-foot home for our first one. Jude was sitting up in bed, and he was shirtless.

Had I really been tired less than a minute ago? It didn’t seem possible with the way my blood was pumping through my veins right now.

“So . . .” he began, his smile twisting, “you look pretty tired, but I wanted to see if you felt like having some sweet dreams tonight.”

My inner thighs tightened. “I’m not exactly alone anymore,” I whispered, glancing back at the bedroom. “I can’t have regular phone sex with you when a three-year-old’s under the roof.”

“Just be quiet,” he suggested.

I laughed out loud before catching myself. “When was the last time I was able to be quiet during . . .
that
?”

An eyebrow arched. “Never. But there’s a first time for everything, Luce.” He was so damn confident, I almost wanted to tell him no just out of principle. But I knew I wouldn’t. My body had already started the spiral to the top from his words alone.

“You do know if I have to attempt this whole quiet thing, I’m not going to be able to talk dirty to you. Right?” I said, skimming my fingers down my stomach. My skin was extrasensitive from anticipation.

Jude shifted in bed before holding his boxers in front of the camera. “That’s a sacrifice I’m happy to make.” And then he threw them to the side, giving me a full-monty view.

I swallowed, and then slid my hand under my leggings.

“Aunt Luce?”

I jolted, dropping the phone in the process. “LJ?! What are you doing up?” My voice was two octaves too high.

“I heard voices and wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, coming around the side of the couch sporting his Avengers pj’s.

The phone had slipped behind the sofa cushions, but I could hear Jude’s low laugh coming through it.

“I’m okay,” I said as I pulled the phone free. “I was just saying good night to Uncle Jude.” Checking the screen to make sure the view had changed, I flashed it in front of LJ.

“Uncle Jude!” His face lit up like Jude was cooler than bubble gum.

“Hey, little man. How’s it going?”

“Good, but don’t talk too loud, okay?” he asked, lifting his finger to his mouth. “Mom doesn’t know I snuck out of bed.”

“You got up to check on Aunt Luce?”

LJ nodded.

“Good job,” Jude said. “You’re the man of the house now, so I’m trusting you to take care of your mom and Aunt Luce.”

“Jude, he’s three,” I said, turning the screen toward me. He’d shrugged into a shirt faster than he could get mine off.

“I’m almost four,” LJ said proudly.

“Yeah, Luce. He’s almost four.”

“All right, man of the house,” I said, turning the screen back toward LJ. “Say good night. It’s way past your bedtime.”

“One more minute?” LJ begged.

“Yeah, one more minute?” Jude’s voice joined in.

I sighed. “Fine.”

LJ did a little dance.

“Phone five,” Jude said, as LJ high-fived the screen.

“Thanks for the football, Uncle Jude. Will you teach me to throw it one thousand yards?” It was dark, but LJ’s eyes were twinkling.

“I’ll teach you to throw it ten thousand yards.”

“Wow,” LJ replied, dumbfounded.

“I’ll take you to the park when I come visit in a couple weeks. In the meantime, practice snapping your arm back and following through on your throw.”

LJ’s eyes squinted while he stored these instructions away.

“You’ll be throwing like a pro before you know it.”

“And . . . time,” I interrupted, realizing that if I was going to be watching this kid six days a week, I’d have to get used to being a responsible adult.

LJ groaned and hung his shoulders.

“Listen to your aunt Luce, little man,” Jude said. “From one guy to another, here’s a word of advice: You’re going to have to figure out what battles are worth fighting. And this isn’t one you’ll win.”

LJ contemplated that pearl of wisdom for all of a second before nodding his head. “Okay. Good night, Uncle Jude. Good night, Aunt Luce.” He waved and started for the bedroom. “I love you.”

I turned the phone so Jude could watch him go. “Love you, little man.”

When I heard the bedroom door click shut, I spun the phone around. “That was a major crisis averted,” I teased, as his smile grew when he saw me.

“That, Luce, was a major crisis delayed,” he implied, letting those words settle.

Jude Ryder . . . hopeless optimist.

“No, Jude,” I said, propping the phone up against a stack of coasters on the coffee table. “That was a major crisis called on account of weather.”

“Luce, no way.” He groaned. “You got me all excited and now you’re giving me the airtime cock block?”

I turned onto my side, trying not to laugh. “No. I’m going to sleep,” I replied, blowing him a kiss. “Good night. Love you, Jude.”

A good minute after I’d closed my eyes, he sighed. I never knew so many emotions could reside in one sigh. “Good night. Love you, Luce.”

That night, my dreams picked up where Jude and I had let off. Ecstasy.

FOURTEEN

I
’d fallen asleep on Monday night and it was Friday when I woke up.

It was amazing how time could move so fast when your life was filled with a nine-to-five office job, mac ’n’ cheese dinners,
Yo Gabba Gabba!
dates, precious hours squeezed in at the dance studio, and nightly calls from the love of my life.

So far, Holly loved her job, and I actually looked forward to getting home so I could hang with a three-almost-four-year-old every night. It was impossible to experience any degree of self-pity when you were in the presence of a kiddo who was as happy and energetic as LJ. Plus, after chasing him around for four hours, I was able to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Much to Jude’s dismay.

I was smiling to myself as I played through the many puppy-dog faces and pleas that Jude had come up with this week, when Anton burst out of his office.

“Checked tie or striped tie?” he asked, bobbing two ties in front of me.

Apparently personal wardrobe consultant was now one of the many hats I wore here at Xavier Industries. Work had been going well. I was learning the ropes, and I was so busy the days flew by. I’d done so much typing and created so many spreadsheets, I was sure I could complete my job with my eyes closed.

“What’s the occasion?” I asked, powering down my computer. It was a few minutes after five on a Friday night.

“Dinner with a blind date,” he said, inspecting the ties critically. “Some girl my friend went to school with. She’s a graphic designer, likes glam rock, and runs marathons. That’s all I know about her, which is why I’m coming up empty in the tie selection endeavor.”

If Anton thought selecting the right tie was the be-all-end-all when it came to getting a second date, I understood why he was still single.

“The checked one,” I said, tapping it with the end of my pen.

The skin between his brows lined. “So confident. So certain,” he said, holding the checked tie up. “How did you decide?”

I used the Pythagorean theorem and square-rooted the null set.
I was an insufferable smart-ass.

“It’s the one I like,” I said, shrugging.

Anton’s face relaxed. Nodding, he appraised the tie with new eyes. “The checked one it is,” he said, heading back for his office. “Thanks, Lucy. Have a nice weekend.”

“Do you need anything else?” I asked, already shouldering my purse. I had our first ever Friday-night dinner to prepare for five tonight, and, while Anton had been true to his word and not brought my relationship up again this week, I felt uncomfortable being alone with him.

And it made me mad. Other than some harmless flirting, Anton had been a true gentleman, going so far as to walk me to my car every night to make sure I got to it safely. I shouldn’t feel uneasy to be alone with another man, and the fact that I did made me even more uneasy.

“No, it’s quitting time,” he said from his office. “I’m out of here, too, so I’ll walk you out.” Reappearing with the checked tie in place and a tweed vest instead of his suit jacket, he held open the office door and waited for me.

I turned off the lights and went through the door as fast as I could. He’d put on some cologne that was spicy and sweet-smelling, and the fact that I noticed set me on edge.

We walked in silence to the elevator, and our silence dragged on while we waited for it.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Anton asked.

“When you ask those kinds of questions, yeah, you do,” I said, almost bolting inside the elevator as soon as the doors opened.

Anton took one giant step inside and stopped in front of me. “Why?”

I found it hard to believe that he needed to ask me why. “Because of the way you’re looking at me right now. And because of the things you say.” I took a couple steps back until I was up against the elevator wall. “You’re my boss. You’re my friend’s brother. You can’t look at me like that, or say those kinds of things to me.”

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head.

His calm, one-word replies were starting to piss me off.

“Because,” the genius inside me answered.

“I’ve been in relationships with women who have worked with me, Lucy,” he said, looking at me too intently. “And I’ve been in relationships with my sister’s friends. Believe me, that’s not what’s stopping me from pursuing you.”

Shit. That look on his face, combined with the tone of his voice, made me wish I could put another five feet of space between us. Thankfully, the elevator jostled to a stop and the doors opened. I was out of those doors faster than I thought I could move.

“So, yeah, there it is,” Anton said, rushing up beside me. I’ll take “Get a Clue” for a thousand, Alex. “I’m attracted to you, Lucy. I want to pursue you, and I want you to want to be pursued by me.”

If I didn’t reply, could I wake up tomorrow and pretend none of this had happened? I shoved through the revolving door and powered toward the Mazda.

“But I won’t act on my attraction out of respect for—”

I spun on him. This was too much, too late in the day. “Out of respect for a guy who would kill you where you stood if he ever found out what you just said?”

He shook his head. “No. Out of respect for you.”

I laughed harshly. “You’ve got one hell of a way of showing respect for me,” I said, fumbling with my keys.

“I respect you enough to tell you the truth,” he said, stepping to the side when I swung the door open. “I want you to know you’ve got options.”

I bit my cheek to keep from nailing him with words I’d regret later. “I don’t want options.”

“Sure you do,” he said. “Every girl does.” And those words, paired with his expression, which was way too condescending for my liking, brought the words I’d been trying to keep under wraps right to the surface.

“Go fuck yourself, Anton,” I fired off before slamming the door and peeling out of the parking lot, never once checking the rearview mirror.

I was quivering. Shaking from the emotions that were spilling out of me. It felt like every emotion possible was present and accounted for, although the loudest ones were anger and confusion. Anger for the obvious reasons. Anton had no right to say those things to me, an engaged woman. Not to mention, an engaged woman who was also his employee. No right at all.

Confusion because I didn’t understand why Anton had said them in the first place. He was intelligent and purposeful to a fault. He didn’t do things on a whim, so I could assume he’d planned this whole spilling-of-the-guts elevator ride. And that confused and pissed me off more.

My life was complicated enough already. I didn’t need some guy I’d just met in person five days ago professing his attraction to me. Anton either had a screw loose or was overconfident. Neither was a recipe for an acceptable “option,” like he’d said.

Not that I wanted options in the first place.

Dammit. Now I was thinking about options, thanks to my lovely boss screwing with my Friday night.

I wanted to call Jude. I wanted to tell him everything that happened and everything I was feeling about it. I wanted to talk to my best friend about all of it. Unfortunately in this case, my best friend also happened to be the guy I loved, and the guy I loved would fly off the handle—and across the country in a heartbeat—if he knew any other man, Anton especially, had said those kinds of things to me.

So I didn’t call him. Instead I glowered at the road and threw a few punches into the steering wheel. By the time I got home, I felt better. And worse. Better because I reminded myself that no matter what any guy said or did, I’d never love anyone but Jude. It felt good to be reminded of this. And worse because I was going to be jobless again come Monday morning. I couldn’t . . . no, I
wouldn’t
work for a man who confessed to having a thing for me. That was a whole heap of drama I didn’t need in my life right now. Not to mention I’d just told my boss to fuck himself. I might not have a ton of job experience, but I knew I was on my way to getting myself fired on the spot.

As I headed up to my apartment, I forced myself to shelve the Anton issue and forget about it until Sunday night, when I had to call him and tell him to put an ad in the paper for a new admin. I was going to enjoy tonight. It wasn’t often I was able to have some of my best friends in the same place, and I wasn’t going to ruin it by moping.

So Anton was attracted to me. Big deal. It was a free country and he could be attracted to whomever he wanted. As of right now, his attraction was out of my mind.

Heading down the hall, I could already smell dinner and hear laughter streaming from the apartment. I was grinning by the time I opened the door.

“Aunt Luce!” LJ greeted me as soon as I came through the door, like he was standing guard.

“LJ!” I greeted him back, sniffing the air. Chicken enchiladas, one of my faves.

“Right this way,” he said in a dignified voice, before grabbing my hand and pulling me into the bathroom.

“What are you up to, crazy man?” I laughed as he towed me along. He was strong for an almost-four-year-old.

“I picked out some jammies and slippers for you,” he said, pointing at them balanced on the sink ledge. “Once you’re comfy, we can have some dinner and I’ll even bring you your plate.” His face was so lit up with excitement, it rubbed off on me.

“Thank you, kind sir,” I said, bowing formally. “But to what do I owe the honor of all this special treatment?”

“Mom says you’ve been working hard all week and you’re our angel and you deserve some DLC,” he recited, backing out of the bathroom.

“You mean TLC?”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Nope. DLC.”

I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. “Well, I’m looking forward to my DLC tonight.”

He beamed before shutting the door. The next sound I heard was his footsteps pounding into the kitchen as he shouted, “She’s getting comfy! She’s getting comfy! I want to pour her cup of apple juice now!”

I couldn’t get out of my skirt and blouse fast enough. I’d worn the same black skirt twice this week, thanks to my lack of business attire, and I had been hoping to remedy that sometime this weekend. Maybe now instead of getting new outfits, I could get LJ a new pair of swimming trunks so we could swim at the public pool.

LJ had clearly handpicked my jammies for the night without any help from Holly. The top he’d gotten right. I always wore some variety of a camisole to bed. However, he’d matched it with a pair of Jude’s boxers that had four-leaf clovers on them that read,
GET LUCKY
, and then, to top it off, LJ had loaned me his slide-on slippers featuring the most terrifying of the
Yo Gabba Gabba!
characters: the red, warty dude with one eye.

Once I’d slid into my tank and hiked Jude’s boxers into place, I squeezed on the slippers. Only because I couldn’t resist, I took a good look in the mirror and burst out laughing. This outfit was too rad not to share. Snapping a picture with my phone, I typed a quick message:
BET YOU WISH YOU WERE HERE TO ENJOY ALL THIS SEXINESS
, before sending it to Jude.

Opening the door, I rolled my shoulders back and turned that hallway into a runway.

India was the first to catch sight of me working it, and the beer she’d been sipping shot straight out of her nose.

Sputtering and laughing at the same time, she nudged Holly, who was chopping up a head of lettuce. “You go, girl!” India said, snapping her fingers. “You get on with your bad self!”

Holly, followed by Thomas, burst into laughter next, tossing in a few whistles and catcalls for good measure.

I came to a stop at the kitchen and struck a pose. More laughter. India even let a snort pop out, which, of course, only made everyone laugh harder.

While I was busy holding my pose, a little hand grabbed mine. “You look beautiful, Aunt Luce,” LJ said, his voice and face full of awe.

“All thanks to you,” I said, clicking my slippers together like Dorothy before heading over to the sink. “What do you guys need help with?”

“Just stay out of the way,” Thomas whispered, nudging me as he upended a bag of chips into a bowl. “India was ready to cut a bitch when I dropped the cilantro on the floor.”

“I heard that, Tinker Bell,” India said, shooting a glare Thomas’s way.

“Sure, go for the easy insult. Yes, yes, I am a male dancer who’s majoring in ballet,” he said, flinging a chip India’s way. “You’re just jeals because my butt looks better in a pair of jeans than yours does.”

“Enough already, you two,” Holly ordered, bringing a bowl of guacamole our way. “I’ve been playing referee all afternoon and I’m done.”

“He insulted my butt,” India said, hiking a hand onto her hip.

“I didn’t insult it,” Thomas responded. “I just stated that mine, in fact, is nicer to look at.”

When I realized I’d been washing my hands the whole time India and Thomas had been snapping back and forth, I shut off the water.

Groaning, Holly slammed the bowl down on the counter. “Fine. India, turn around,” she demanded, twirling her finger in the air. India didn’t argue; she even popped her hip to the side to sway the ass vote her way. “Nice. I give it a nine out of ten.”

Only India would be insulted that her ass had just been ranked a nine out of ten.

“Okay, Thomas. Your turn,” Holly said, waiting, but Thomas wasn’t moving. He was frozen in place.

Familiar with that deer-in-the-headlights look, I helped him out. Grabbing his shoulders, I spun him around. I even tucked in his tee and highlighted his derriere with my hands, Vanna White style.

Inspecting Thomas, Holly tilted her head to one side, then the other, before her eyes went a little dreamy. Coming up behind him, Holly slapped both hands into Thomas’s cheeks and squeezed.

He jolted with surprise, but didn’t put up any argument.

“Thomas wins,” Holly announced, giving his butt a little love pat before retrieving her bowl of guacamole.

“Whatever.” India sulked, carrying a tray of enchiladas to the table. “What I got back here’s a perfect ten, baby.”

“Taste this,” Holly said, sticking a finger topped by a dollop of guac in front of my mouth.