KEPT: A Second Chance Fairy Tale (20 page)

Fearing what she’s about to do, knowing she’ll regret it when she’s sober, I say, “Go inside.”

She either doesn’t hear me or ignores my demand. After looking up at me with a questioning gaze, Lucy stands on her tiptoes and leans her body into mine, resting her hands on my chest.

“I need you to go inside,” I hear myself plead, hoping she listens for once.

Ignoring me, she asks, “Do you believe people deserve to be happy, even if they think they don’t?”

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know, Lucy.”

“I don’t know, either,” she murmurs.

Feeling her warm breath against my skin, I collect my thoughts and tell her, “I think there are different kinds of happiness, and people who aren’t eventually
can
be if they want it badly enough.”

“Do you?” she questions, still standing so close.

“Do I what?”

“Do you want to be happy?”

No one’s ever asked me this. I hadn’t thought much about it, to be honest. I don’t count my blessings or hope for something good to come along and show me what I’ve been missing. I used to, but not anymore.

Ignoring her question, I pick up her purse, which had fallen in her stumble, and hold it between us.

“Get your keys out. I’ll walk you up.”

“I can manage,” she says quietly.

Placing my hand on her elbow after she has her keys ready, we walk up her small steps together. Dillon’s bike is outside, leaning next to the front door. I notice her porch light isn’t on, but don’t ask if it isn’t working. I assume, judging by the state of her apartment building, it probably isn’t.

The lock clicks open, and Lucy pushes the door wide. The inside isn’t any brighter than her porch.

Turning to her, I smile as she bites her bottom lip without knowing what to say. For the first time since meeting her, it seems she’s truly unable to fill the silence.

“Go inside. Lock the door behind you,” I tell her, nodding to the door, standing with my hands in my pockets. I won’t budge until she’s done what I’ve just asked.

“Michael?” She takes one step closer.

“I’m still here,” I whisper, bending slightly.

Clearing her throat, she closes the small distance between us and says, “I want to try something.”

“Lucy,” I murmur, but the sadness in her voice as she spoke on the way home keeps me from saying more.

You can learn a lot from fairy tales if you watch them closely enough.

Her lips gently kiss the side of mine. Then her head tilts and, just as softly, she does the same to the other side. This isn’t the same as when I kissed her to shut her up. This is different. It’s honest and sincere.

When her lips part, I can taste her warm breath mixing with mine. I tilt my head and let Lucy guide her own way.

Almost shyly, she moves to deepen our connection.

I don’t know whether to counsel you, thank you, or beat your ass red.

Quietly, she releases a soft moan, which I feel deep inside. My chest aches, my hands clench and, with only the promise of more, my cock swells.

Aside from all the lawyers I terrorize in my free time, I don’t really go to dinner much.

Hesitantly, her hands explore my chest, travel up and over my shoulders, locking together at the nape of my neck. Then her fingers slide through my hair and she pulls it slightly as I step into her, backing her against the outside wall next to her front door.

Look at me, Lucy.

My hand runs the expanse of her small waist, truly feeling her body for the first time, awakening a part of me I haven’t felt for so long. Behind my eyes, visions of Lucy coming undone beneath me are vivid and in color. The rest of our circumstance fades to grey as I mentally envision her release.

Just wondering. You’re a tough read.

Releasing her mouth, I move mine to her neck. I inhale her scent, so fucking familiar but still not. My tongue darts out to taste her, finding her skin is sweet. She gasps and her hips push forward. My pants strain as I thrust forward, as well.

Maybe I don’t want to be anyone’s book.

My knee positions between her thighs as her fingernails dig in so forcefully, I feel them under my suit jacket. Her breathing becomes labored once she feels my body pressing harder against hers.

I haven’t been a nice person for a long time. But I’m here because I’m trying.

I run my hand up the length of her back until my fingers feel the softness of her skin, the warmth of it so welcome.

Who blames you, Lucy? For what?

My thumb brushes the base of her breast, and she emits a small moan from the back of her throat once I move to take her mouth again.

It’s the villains in them ya gotta watch, though. They want to steal everything from you, even if you don’t have anything worth taking.

Her words call out to my conscience and weigh in with clarity. I pull my head back and open my eyes to find hers still closed. Raising my hands, I frame her small face as her mouth closes, her lips forming a small, sad smile.

Don’t hurt her.

As much as I’d like to explore this evening, I can’t let this go any further than it already has. I don’t ever want to be the villain in someone’s story again.

My forehead rests against the side of hers as I whisper, “Sleep well, Lucy.”

Michael

“A
RE YOU SURE THIS ISN’T
an imposition? Honey, I know you’re busy.”

“It’s not, Mom,” I explain to her for the third time. “I’ll talk to Corbin and move my schedule around. If necessary, I’ll bring my work there.”

Mom sighs in relief. “Oh, thank you. Denise isn’t listening to what the doctors keep telling her.”

“She’ll listen to me,” I assure. “I’ll be there later tonight or tomorrow.”

“Tell Lillie you’ll need a few days away. That’s all. She’ll understand.”

I haven’t told Mom that Lillie left. They met once, hitting it off immediately, so I knew it was better not to say anything until I had a replacement.

Not wanting to get into that with her now, I let it go. “Will do. Talk to you soon.”

My mother rarely calls me on Saturdays. Usually, those are spent shopping with her friends or at the spa getting pampered. If she needs anything, I make myself available on Sunday afternoons, where she talks for an hour or so, filling me in on what’s happening back home.

From what she said this morning, my sister has been giving her a fit. She’s been out with a new boyfriend, one Mom doesn’t approve of, and she’s been drinking. We’re all well aware she shouldn’t be partying as any other twenty-eight-year-old might, but Denise is stubborn. She always has been.

Luckily, when I put my call through to Corbin, he answers on the second ring.

“This better be good, Mike. It’s seven-thirty on a Saturday morning,” he admonishes with a voice raspy in sleep.

“You got company?” I ask, remembering how quickly he rushed off after dinner last night.

“No. Didn’t end well.”

“Struck out again. Life’s a bitch.” I smirk at the thought.

Dismissing my sarcasm, he asks, “You get Lucy home?”

The question hits me square in the chest, piercing with its effect. After leaving Lucy’s apartment, I spent the rest of my night mentally listing every reason I could as to why pushing further with whatever was happening between us would end badly. I came up with nothing other than the obvious—she doesn’t know who I am or what I’ve been doing for the last five years.

“I did,” I answer, keeping my answer short.

“So, what’s up?”

“My mom called—”

“How’s Denise?” he interrupts.

“Not great. I need to go home for a few days and help her set shit straight.”

Lowering his voice, he asks, “She’s okay, though, right?”

“She’s Deni,” I tell him, knowing he’ll get it. “Just being more of a pain in the ass than usual. She’s giving my mom hell.”

He laughs, but his direct response is serious. “Do it. Take some time off, Mike. You never do.”

“I have shit here that needs taking care of,” I explain.

Corbin huffs into the phone, his annoyance apparent. His family is tight, and there’s never been a time he’s hesitated to take time off when his mom needed him. His little brother, Tyler, is the same.

“I’ll pick up in the office where you can’t. So go do what you need to do. Maybe I can push Jane into making a decision about coming aboard, also finding out where she’s at with Lucy.”

Not wanting to get into the reasons why Corbin shouldn’t push Jane after she’s already doing us a favor, I tell him, “I’m calling Lillie when I get off here and ask her to make arrangements.”

“Lillie?” he questions. “You mean Lucy.”

“No,” I correct. “Lillie knows how to do my schedule. I don’t have time to explain it to Lucy.”

“Jesus, Mike. Lillie doesn’t work for us anymore.”

“She said I could call her.” I hear the petulance in my own voice, but don’t care.

“How that woman ever put up with you,” he
tsks
. “Do what you need to do,” he clips. “You’ve gotta let Lillie go, though, Mike. She’s not coming back.”

I don’t need his unwelcome advice. “I’ll call you when I know more.”

“Hey,” he says before I can disconnect.

“Yeah?”

“Take her,” he tells me, but I don’t understand.

“Take who?”

“You said you have work, and if you’re working in Chicago, you’ll need help. I’ve seen you with that calendar. It’s a little depressing. Take Lucy.”

Closing my eyes, I refuse to give his idea merit, but not for the reason he thinks. After last night, I’m not so sure it’s a good idea I go anywhere alone with Lucy.

Or maybe it is. Fuck, I don’t know.

“Take her. I’ll be fine,” he adds when I say nothing.

“I gotta go,” I tell him. “I’ll call you later.”

“Right,” he answers before disconnecting the call.

Lucy

“I am
such
an idiot,” I cry as Shannan stands in my room, watching me pack.

I’ve just dumped nearly every drawer onto the floor. In the process, I’m fairly certain I’ve scared my best friend into thinking I’m a lunatic for being attracted to my boss, who also happens to be a moody recluse of a man who rarely smiles.

I’m certifiably nuts.

When Michael called this morning, apologizing for intruding on my weekend, saying he needed my help, I was surprised. After what happened between us last night, I wasn’t sure how I was going to ever face him, if I ever wanted to at all. Then hearing his voice, as quiet and careful as he made it, I assumed he felt the same and it immediately settled my worry.

He kept his greeting short, then went on to explain he was going home for a few days to visit his mom and sister. In the moment, I figured he was just offering a courtesy call as he started to nervously rattle off cases he’d need to work on while away. I promised him I’d do my best to assist from the office, but he surprised me further by telling me I’d be
joining
him during said visit.

“Do you want a shot of tequila? Would that help?”

Oh, my god! My best friend doesn’t get it!

“Shannan, please.
Focus
. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” I state the obvious as I spin in a small circle, reviewing the mess I’ve made of my room. It looks as if all the clothes in my closet have managed their way to my bed. However, my sad, empty little suitcase sits in a corner alone, as though making fun of me.

Still unable to sense my level of mortification, Shannan ignores my stress and asks for the third time since coming over, “Did
you
really kiss
him
? Because I’m having a hard time believing–”

“Oh, my
god
. You’re not listening,” I whisper, fearing she never will. “That wasn’t the worst part. I compared his Amazon woman to a…” I stop and take a breath, but can’t bear to finish my thought.

The humiliation I feel in comparing his woman to an animated character, and not in a nice way, is too much.

She laughs, grabbing what looks like my last shirt from the closet, holding it up in front of her. “I’ve been listening, and it sounds to me like he wasn’t exactly telling you to stop.”

Momentarily ignoring her, I reach to grab the shirt she’s holding and throw it on the bed with the others. This is the first time I’m leaving Dillon alone for more than a night, and with someone who isn’t family. The times before, he’s spent with either my mom or Gabe’s. Telling him goodbye nearly broke my heart, but not for the reason I thought it would. My son didn’t seem to have the same concerns as I did. He worried he would miss his favorite cartoons if I weren’t here to remind him of them. He also wondered who was going to cook for him.