Drawn To You (Taking Chances #3) (7 page)

The question seemed to catch Lucas off guard. “She certainly plays a part in our lives.”

His hesitation left Sam feeling unsettled. Ever since Lucas had almost kissed her, he had been acting distant, even formal. At first, she chalked it up to his determination in getting her finances in order, but now that they were past that point, there was no good explanation. His behavior, however, wasn’t new. It was exactly how he had treated her back in high school. One minute he was red hot, with his mouth glued to hers; the next, he couldn’t seem to get far away enough from her.
What was his issue?
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was scared. A tough cop like him afraid of her? A snort escaped from her lips before she could stop it.

“Sounds like you thought of something?” Lucas smiled at her unexpectedly, and the corners of his light brown eyes crinkled.

“I—uh, just the usual stuff.” That flutter in her stomach was becoming a regular thing. He only had to look her way, and she was a mess. He was the last person she should be considering for a relationship, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t entertain her feelings a little. “I’ll go. My high is getting to eat such great food again, and my low is the fact that I could never cook this well.”

“Why cook when someone can do it for you?” Mrs. Benson remarked with a shake of her head. “I enjoy feeding you.”

“Can Miss Sam live with us?” a high-pitched voice piped up. “Grandma can feed her every day.”

“I have my own home, girlie.” Sam gave one of Lucy’s braids a light tug. “I have food there, nothing as good as this, but it’s enough.”

“If you’re family, you’re ‘posed to live with us.” She turned to Lucas with her fists at her hips. “Daddy, I want Miss Sam to live here.”

“Sweetheart, it doesn’t work that way,” he answered with a frown. “Come on, finish up your milk. You need it to grow tall and strong.”

Lucy pouted. “I want to live with Miss Sam.” She turned to Sam and pled, “Please?”

Sam swallowed her surprise, along with a mouthful of buttery mashed potatoes. The expressions around the table couldn’t have been more different. Mrs. B. thought her granddaughter’s plea was endearing, while Lucas appeared disturbed. Was it so awful that Lucy liked her? Did Lucas disapprove of her that much? Her defensiveness gave way to sympathy, however, when she saw his shoulders drop. Perhaps he was just feeling insecure. “That would be fun, Luce, but your dad would miss you. You’re also too young to move out.”

Lucas gave Sam a small smile. “That’s right.”

“Maybe when I’m five?”

Sam chuckled. “Maybe. We can talk about it later, okay?”

Lucy set her cup down with a soft
thud
and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m done. May I be ‘scused?”

“Please use your napkin, sweetheart,” Lucas urged. “Yes, you may be excused.”

Mrs. B. stood up as well and began clearing the dishes. “I’m done, too. I’ll give Lucy a bath and put her to bed. You two have work to do.”

“Thanks again, Mrs. B. I’ll help as soon as I can roll myself out of this chair,” Sam laughed. “I lost count of how many servings you gave me.”

“I’m happy you appreciate my cooking. You sit, dear, and digest.” She turned to Lucas who had begun wiping up drops of milk on the table. “You, too, son.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Lucas sat back down with a crumpled napkin in his hand. He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the table. Lines stretched across his forehead as he stared at the cherry wood.

Something was off about him, but she didn’t know what. “Rough day at work?”

“Just the usual.” He quickly changed the topic. “You said earlier you want to buy more supplies. What do you need?”

Sam’s ears perked up at the mention of shopping. “Let me show you the catalogue.” She returned from the living room with an inch-thick book. Scooting her chair closer to Lucas’s, she flipped to the first page she had bookmarked with a yellow sticky tab. “Aren’t these mini easels and canvases cute? I’ve wanted them for the longest time, and now that I—I mean
we
—have money, we should stock up. Plus, they’re forty percent off.”

“How many do you want to buy?”

“Well, I teach three to four classes a day with anywhere from six to eight students, so that would make …” Sam scrunched up her face as she did a mental calculation. “Stop smirking and help me out.”

“A hundred and sixty a week,” Lucas answered, still smirking. He grabbed a pad of paper and pen from the kitchen counter and jotted down some numbers. “Multiply that by $4.96 and we have a total of $793.60.” Shaking his head, he frowned. “That’s way over our budget. We’re barely breaking even as it is. What’s wrong with using paper? You can buy a ream for $6 or $7. The kids won’t know the difference.”

“How can you say that? There’s a huge difference between paper and canvas. Paper isn’t thick enough for acrylic paint; it just soaks through and the colors don’t stand out. With a canvas, the parents can display it at home or at work. Wouldn’t you rather hang up a painting Lucy did on canvas?”

“I personally prefer paper.” He nodded to the refrigerator on the other side of the kitchen. “You can’t stick a magnet on canvas.”

“You’re so cheap.” Knowing better than to argue with the keeper of her money, she decided to try a different tactic. “Okay. What if we buy a dozen first and I’ll add an extra $5 or $6 to the materials fee if the parents want their kids to try out the canvas.”

“That’s an idea. We can try it.”

“I thought you’d like the breaking even part.”

“I do,” he chuckled. “The part where you compromised was pretty sweet, too.”

“Ha,” she scoffed, though inwardly she was happy to see him finally loosen up. Curious, she decided to ask about his day again. “I gave in a little; now it’s your turn. Why were you in such a funk? Did something happen at work? Come on, spill it,” she encouraged, pushing the penny on the table closer to him. “And don’t say something generic like you did earlier about feeling tired, blah, blah, blah. Tell me how you
really
feel.”

Lucas pushed up the sleeves of his blue checkered shirt. “If this artist thing doesn’t work out, you could try becoming a shrink.”

“Hm. I do love telling people what to do. The listening part, not so much. But I’ll give it a try if you try talking.”

“Thanks for trying. I appreciate it.” Lucas managed a half smile. “I just had one of those days that made me realize how hard it is to raise a daughter by myself. I don’t know how I’m going to handle Lucy when she’s a teenager. What do I do when she doesn’t listen to me anymore?” He looked down at his hands clasped in his lap. “Lauren was so good with her. They shared such a strong bond. It’s not the same between me and her.”

“You’re worrying too much. You’ve got plenty of time to build your relationship. She’s only four.”

“She’s only four and she already wants to move out. She’d rather live with you than with her own father.”

“Well, you’ve got to admit I’m a tad more fun,” she teased, before changing her tone. His grim expression sobered her. He really was feeling lost. “Kids just want their parents to spend time with them. Sit down with Lucy and have a tea party. Paint together. Go get ice cream. And ease up on your rules. You spend most of the time telling her what to do or what not to do. Believe me, that gets old real fast.”

“Someone has to teach her right from wrong. You have no idea what crazy things kids are up to these days. It’s not the same world we grew up in.”

She cocked her head and studied him. “Your job’s making you paranoid. The same thing happened to my sister. When she was in med school, she’d diagnose herself with whatever disease she was studying that week. You deal with criminals every day. You’ve got yourself thinking everyone’s going to turn into one, even your own daughter. There are good guys out there, too, like you.” She playfully poked his arm. “So, what happened today that got to you?”

He drew in a deep breath, then grimaced. “We got a tip to check on a restaurant. Some guy spotted a bunch of young girls there.”

Sam could tell from the muscle twitching in his jaw that he was angry. She liked that about him, his strong, protective side that made him want to become a cop. Sure, he had the rule-following side that made him perfect for the job, but it was his heart that made him good at it. “What did you find?”

“Turns out they were serving more than enchiladas. It was a front for an escort service,” he spat out, while making air quotes with his fingers.

Sam quirked a brow. “Oh, you mean guys paying girls to—”

Raising one hand to silence her, he sneaked a peek at the hallway. “No need to go into details. I don’t want little ears to overhear us.”

“Got it,” she acknowledged in an overly secretive tone. “Calm down. I’m around kids all day. I know what’s okay to talk about. I wasn’t going to say anything explicit. I mean, aren’t some of these services for companionship only?”

“Companionship?” His threw up his hands in exasperation. “Believe me, they were doing more than, uh, having tea parties at this place. A lot more. Are you that naive? I can’t believe you’d think that. What side of town are you from?”

“The French one,” she replied with indignation. He might as well have called her stupid. Sure, she had made some foolish decisions in her life, but she didn’t need him reminding her of them. “When I lived in Paris, I got asked to join a dating site. It was a service for men who wanted female company. The guys would pay for a nice evening out and the girls would provide interesting conversation. It was purely platonic. Companionship
only
.”

“Wait, how old were these men that you went out with?”

“Mostly in their forties or fifties, a few younger. They were all professionals with established careers. Men who knew how to treat girls right.”

Lucas stared at her incredulously. In a hushed voice, he declared, “Older, rich men who paid to go on dates with young, beautiful girls? Haven’t you heard of the term “sugar daddy”?”

Sam crossed her arms. “Don’t make it sound crude, Lucas. It was legal and both parties benefitted from the arrangement.”

“You were a glorified escort. Why did you—how could you sell yourself like that?”

Sam’s face heated, and the breeze from the ceiling fan overhead did little to cool her. He had the gall to label her! “You have no idea how hard I worked to support myself. I got accepted into one of the best art programs and had the chance to learn from some amazing teachers. When money got tight, I did what I had to do to survive. I may have sold my time and company, but I never sold my dignity. You have no right to judge me.”

“Who said I was judging—okay, maybe I was.” Throwing up his hands, he relented, “Fine, I should have asked for your side of the story before making assumptions. I’m just surprised you did something so … so ...”

“Repulsive? Desperate? Just say it.”

“Risky,” he sighed. “Did they run background checks? Did you meet in public places?”

“Of course they ran background checks and we always met at restaurants. These were respectable guys: doctors, lawyers, company executives, even some government employees. They weren’t criminals, just lonely.”

“What if a guy tried to take advantage of you? I’m sure some wanted more than companionship.”

“Even if they did, I made it clear that I wasn’t interested. Are you done with your questions?”

Lucas nodded, not looking the least bit convinced. “Just one more. How many of them were married?”

“What?” Sam spluttered, realizing she had said too much already. The way he looked at her made her wonder if there was a big red “A” stamped on her forehead. Of course she would never date a married man, much less fall in love with one, knowingly. Did he think she would stoop that low?

She tried to think of a way to get out of answering his question when the notes of a pop song cut through the silence. A male voice singing the chorus to “Shut Up and Dance” came from the living room. “That’s me,” she indicated with relief as she stepped away to answer her cell phone.

A moment later, Sam returned to the dining room with a big smile on her face. Her mood had completely shifted, thanks to some great news and an excuse to end the conversation. “My sister’s in labor! I gotta go. You don’t mind if we meet tomorrow, right? I need to go to the hospital.”

“Of course not. Give my best to your sister and brother-in-law.” Lucas walked her to the door. “Oh, and hold off on buying those easels. I want to go over our budget again.”

“But the sale ends Friday.”

“That’s four days away.”

“I was hoping to
get
them by then.”

“How? Shipping takes at least a week.”

“Haven’t you heard of expedited shipping?” She watched his jaw drop. “Obviously, you haven’t.”

“And you obviously haven’t heard that patience is a virtue.”

“For your information, I’m getting a big lesson on it right now.” Rolling her eyes, she flashed him a cheeky smile. She slid her feet into her red four-inch sandals and bent down to adjust the straps at her heel. Standing back up, she faced him squarely and felt her cheeks warm. That grin of his was melting her resolve again. It was so unfair. “How about we place the order tomorrow, but for two dozen? That way we’ll qualify for free shipping.”

Lucas nodded, his smile widening. “Deal. Go ahead and place the order tonight.”

“Yes!” Raising her hands, she stomped her feet quickly on the tile floor. She immediately regretted her victory dance because she lost her balance and began toppling over. “Shi—,” she corrected herself before Lucas could. “Shoot!”

Lucas caught her just in time.

She found herself face to face with his Adam’s apple, and it took her a moment to realize she had her palms on his chest. His very firm chest. She was keenly aware of the strong pulsing rhythm beneath her right fingers and how it quickened its pace as Lucas tightened his hold on her.

“Those shoes …,” he grumbled against her hair.

She looked up to see him gazing at her intensely. She recognized the curiosity and hunger in his eyes. “Yes?”

“Those shoes,” he reiterated in a gruff voice, “are a hazard.”

“Are you concerned about me, Officer Choi?” she teased, knowing full well that she had his complete attention.