Drawn To You (Taking Chances #3) (3 page)

“Like I told you, I didn’t have a drop of alcohol, but they still handcuffed me. It was humiliating.”

“You were holding a cup of beer. You should be grateful they let you go with a warning.” She sighed as she massaged the side of her swelling belly. “Wait, Lucas is a police officer now?”

“Yup, he no longer has to pretend to be a cop. Now he has an official uniform to go with his straight-laced personality.” Her cheeks grew hot as she remembered his haughty smile. “He was definitely out to get me today. You should have seen him. He was as happy as a cat who caught a mouse, and
I
was the mouse.”

“You couldn’t talk your way out of a ticket this time?”

“Actually, I did,” Sam proclaimed with a grin.

“You are unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably good.”

“If only you could use that mouth to do something useful, like pay your bills.”

“Ha! Who said anything about using my mouth?” Her low, suggestive tone caused Melanie’s jaw to drop. “There are other body parts that are just as useful for swaying the male species.”

“The kids can hear you!”

“I don’t know what
you’re
thinking about,” Sam snickered, “but I was referring to my eyes. This new mascara’s supposed to give my lashes more length and volume. Guys love that kind of thing.”

“
Aiya
.”

“You should’ve seen the look on your face just now.”

Melanie sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Lighten up. I was just playing.”

“Sam, I’m going to be honest with you because I love you. You need to get serious about your life and stop playing around. You have a credit score to fix. You need to start thinking about commitment and having a long-term relationship. It’s time you acted like a responsible adult.”

Leave it to her sister to state the obvious. She crossed her arms in a defiant stance. “It’s a good thing you’re the mother of my favorite nephew and niece, and I know you mean well.”

“I just want what’s best for you.”

Unfortunately, Sam’s best was never good enough. She’d always been the black sheep of the family, the one who didn’t fit the cookie cutter mold of a studious and obedient Asian daughter. Maybe a genetic mutation was to blame? Unlike her sisters, she would never cut it in the medical field and it would take a lot to convince her to settle down. She had put her heart on the line before and still regretted it. “I might not do things the way you and Billie do, but I have plans and goals.”

“I’m just worried—”

Sam cut her off. “Stop worrying. I’ve got everything under control.” Before she could defend herself further, the front door opened and in walked a gray-haired woman and young child. Grateful for the interruption, Sam strode over and wrapped the little girl in her arms. “Lucy! I love your French braids and hair bows.”

“Look, Miss Sam, I made my hair like yours.”

“Why, yes, you did,” she marveled at the crimson streaks in her brunette mane. “Let me guess, you used a marker?”

“A permanent one,” the older woman lamented. “I leave her alone to make lunch and she does this! What’s your daddy going to say when he sees your hair, not to mention your face?” She licked one thumb, then swiped it over a red mark on Lucy’s cheek.

“Hey, Mrs. B.,” Sam greeted Lucy’s grandmother. “Don’t worry, it’ll come out after a couple of washes. I had my share of Sharpie escapades as a kid.”

“What a relief.” Mrs. Benson exhaled, then leaned over to plant a kiss on Sam’s cheek. “You look beautiful, dear. What an amazing skirt. Don’t tell me you made it?”

“I did. I took an old pair of jeans and a skirt from Goodwill, and voilà. The power of upcycling.” Sam grinned at Lucy who was staring up at her with fascination in her hazel eyes. “Oh, I know what’s going on in your head. Don’t you go cutting up your clothes when you get home. If you want to make something, I’ll help you tomorrow after your party, okay?”

Lucy bobbed her head up and down and tugged at Sam’s lace skirt. “I want one like yours.”

“You don’t need to copy me, Luce.” Sam squeezed the girl’s soft hand. “Remember, you have your own special style. We’ll make something that you think is cool.”

“Okay!” Lucy squealed. “I can’t wait.”

Sam grinned and directed her to the table with finger paints. “Put your smock on and sit down. We’ll start class in a few minutes.”

Mrs. Benson beamed as Lucy skipped away. “I didn’t think I would ever see her talk, let alone smile again. You’ve helped her so much, dear.”

Sam winced. Over the course of the last month, she had heard bits and pieces of Lucy’s story. The three-year-old had gone through more than any child, or even adult, should. After losing her mom a year ago, she had stopped talking. She was only recently opening up, thanks to some extra individual lessons. “She has come a long way. But it’s not me, it’s the art. She just needed a way to get her feelings out.”

“It’s more than the painting. She enjoys coming here to see you. You’re helping to fill a void in her heart. She hasn’t had a female figure in her life since my daughter passed.”

“She has you, Mrs. B. I see how much you adore her even when she makes you want to pull your hair out.”

“I do, and yes, she does,” she chuckled. “But the two of you have a special connection. You got through to her when no one else could. I hope you know how special you are.”

“I—uh, thanks,” Sam stammered. If only being special could help pay the bills and keep her business open. She couldn’t fathom the thought of closing down and not being able to see her students. As much as she hated to admit it, Mel was right. If she didn’t get her finances under control, she would lose the most important thing in her life.

“Something wrong, dear?”

Sam blinked and pushed aside her thoughts. The concern in Mrs. B.’s voice matched the worry clouding her blue eyes. “Just thinking about today’s lesson.”

More parents and students began arriving at that moment, and Sam stepped away to greet them. After directing the children to sit down, she returned to Mrs. B. “Have a seat. I’m sure my sister would love some company when she wakes up.” She gestured to Melanie who was breathing deeply with her hands clasped on her stomach.

“She’s got the right idea,” Mrs. Benson grinned and sat down. “Oh, speaking of company, I was talking to my neighbor Janice and telling her what a wonderful girl you are. She wants to stop by during Lucy’s party to meet you. Maybe bring her son over. He’s a law professor.”

Sam chuckled. The twinkle in Mrs. Benson’s eyes was unmistakable. “I know where you’re going with this, Mrs. B., but I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I appreciate you watching out for me though.”

“So, you
are
single. Good to know.”

Nodding, Sam walked off. “Single and happy,” she called over her shoulder.

As her sister had said, now was not the best time for a relationship. Especially not with a guy whose job was dependent on following the rules, which she had a knack for breaking.

THREE

Lucas jogged across the street, his feet hitting the pavement with the rhythmic beat of a drum. A row of willow trees cast intermittent shadows on the sidewalk as he ran from one end of the block to the other. The area was quaint and close-knit, as evidenced by the neighborhood watch program signs posted on nearly every corner. It was the ideal place to raise a family, one of the reasons he had chosen to move here. He lived close enough to the Milpitas Police Department so he didn’t get stuck in traffic for hours, but far away enough that he could keep his job and home life separate.

Coming to an intersection, he paused to check his watch, and picked up his pace. A night of tossing and turning had caused him to oversleep, a rare occurrence for him, but he had decided to stick to his morning routine. Now he had twenty minutes to run home and shower before the day’s events started.

He couldn’t believe he’d gone out—thanks to his colleague’s badgering-on his first date in a decade. Last night had been easier than he’d anticipated, but not as pleasant. Oliver’s cousin was friendly enough, but their conversation had fizzled out after fifteen minutes, like the flares he used to create “safety zones” on the road. His heart hadn’t been in it. He had no problems opening doors or picking up the tab for a woman, but he was far from ready to pursue a relationship. That was to be expected, considering he had spent almost a whole decade with one woman.

But Lauren was gone now.

After six years of marriage, it was hard to be single again and even harder to force himself to move on. At least he had a job to distract himself with every day. And a family that gave him a reason to think about the future. Thank God for sparing him that much.

He rounded the corner leading to his house and slowed down when he spotted an elderly couple walking their terrier. Passing the neighbors, he called out a greeting, and they waved back. When he was two houses away from his own, he noticed a red sedan parked in the driveway next to his silver SUV. The bright crimson shade called out for attention and reminded him of several vehicles he had pulled over that week. The stereotype rang true: people who liked the color red tended to drive recklessly. They were more aggressive, impulsive, and hot-headed.

Just like the woman he pulled over yesterday.

Strangely enough, running into Sammie Koo had been the highlight of his day. Their back and forth banter had given him such an adrenaline rush. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so freely. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed adult conversation that didn’t center around cancer treatments or hospital bills.

For a moment he hoped it was her car parked in front of his home. It
was
the same make and model as he remembered. It was the same license plate, too, except for the new registration sticker attached to it. Had he gotten Sam to listen? Miracles did happen. But what was she doing here?

Lucas approached the car and placed one hand on the open door. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of two shapely legs poking out from the backseat, legs which were encased in black knee-high sandals that resembled gladiator shoes. Interesting, but not very practical, as expected. “Fancy footwear you’ve got there,” he called out. “On your way to a fight?”

“What?” Sam straightened and bumped the car roof with a dull
thud
, landing her back onto the seat
.

“This is one time that being hardheaded comes in handy.” He grinned, then winced at the sight of her rubbing her head. “You all right?”

“Lucas Choi! Are you checking up on me? Let me guess, you’re running around the neighborhood looking for cars with expired registration stickers. You always were an overachiever. Well, you can move on from here. I told you I’d get mine renewed, and I did. Here, I’ll prove it.” She bolted to her feet, but stumbled when she took a step.

He grabbed her elbow. “Hey, slow down, Firecracker. You must have hit your head pretty hard.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he leaned close. “Are you dizzy?”

If Sam wasn’t dizzy already, she would be soon. She swallowed slowly as the heat from his palms threatened to melt her resolve. Why did he have to look at her with such tenderness? More importantly, why did she still have such a weak spot for him after all these years? “Wh—what?”

“Can you focus?”

His gentle demeanor almost made her forget who she was dealing with. She reminded herself that this was the guy who turned her in when he caught her copying Sean Casey’s precalculus homework. The same one who had ratted her out when he overheard her plans to play hooky with Devin Mitchell. And the only guy who had ever rejected her affections. He found joy in her suffering. He had to have ulterior motives behind this good guy farce. “I’m fine. I can see perfectly fine.” Sam shook herself free from his hold. “And I can see through your whole good cop, bad cop routine. You’re just buttering me up before you charge me with some violation. Am I illegally parked or something?”

“Okay, we can check off yes for easily upset or angered. But since you don’t have any physical symptoms of a concussion, I think you’re in the clear. It must have been the hair that protected you. You have two inches of padding with that French”—he cocked his head to the side for a better look—“oh wait, Dutchbraid going down the center.”

“It’s called a fauxhawk, and it took half an hour to achieve the perfect height.” She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know so much about braids? My sisters don’t even know the difference.”

He gave a small shrug. “Call it a hobby of mine.”

“Something you do when you’re not stalking people? You didn’t answer my question, Lucas. What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“The question is why are
you
stalking
me
? This is my house. What are you doing here?”

“
Your
house?” Sammie glanced at the black numbers above the two car garage door. It was the right address; she was sure of it. But the facts of the circumstances didn’t add together.
I’m here for a birthday party …
Her eyes grew round as the pieces started falling into place. His ringless hand. The cleft in his chin that matched her favorite student’s. “Wait, you’re Lucy’s dad?”

“You’re her art teacher? I thought Sam was your last name. What a small world.”

“No kidding.” All her presumptions of him and his perfect life faded away. Her heart softened to know the tragedy his family had gone through. How could she have talked so negatively about his wife? “Hey, I had no idea when I saw you yesterday … I shouldn’t have said those things.” She bit her lip as she fumbled for the right words to say.

“It’s fine. You had no idea.” The somber tone of his voice lifted with his next words. “I have to say this is unusual, you having trouble talking.”

“There’s a first for everything.” It wasn’t the first occasion she wished she’d kept her mouth shut, but it was the one time she felt so guilty. “I’m really sorry about Lauren.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, with only the chirping birds in the nearby trees punctuating the silence. Sam shifted her weight from foot to foot and blinked. She could handle bickering and tension, but the idea of peace and harmony with Lucas was new and unsettling. “I need to prepare for the party. Can I go in?”