Loving Lucas (10 page)

Texas A&M Corpus Christi is located on an island, a unique setting for a campus. And if I weren’t so interested in my major, I might have considered Biology. Across the way I see half a dozen students digging in the sand and collecting soil samples. The science department works with the state to monitor soil quality and takes species counts every month—especially migrating birds.

I continue walking, wondering where Lucas and I are going to end up. After yesterday, the short answer is in his bed. But can it turn into something more? Will I finally let myself live? I surely intend on loving Lucas for as long as I can, with my body and with whatever else I can give.

Thirty minutes later I join Marie. She looks so irritated—tapping her foot, her arms crossed over her chest. I give her my best innocent smile, knowing exactly what she’s going to say.

“It’s not that easy,” she comments.

“What?”

“You didn’t call me.”

“Sorry.”
Please don’t make me tell you . . .

“You slept with super cop, didn’t you?” She practically screams it and the people standing nearby stare, a few of them snickering as they pass by.

“Marie!” I feel my face flush. “I never kiss and tell.”

“Maybe not,” she says. “But that shit-eating grin says a lot.”

“What shit-grinning grin?” I cover my mouth, unable to hide the truth from my best friend.

She walks to the closest table, pulls a chair out, and gestures for me to sit. “Now.”

I’m in the mood to challenge her. I don’t move.

“You weigh a hundred pounds, Karlie,” she reminds me. “I’ll drag you if I have to.”

She outweighs me by fifteen pounds, so she’ll make good on her threat. I shrug and reluctantly claim the seat; I drop my backpack on the floor. “While you’re up,” I say, “double-shot mocha.”

“Really?” She thrusts her hand on her hip. “I suppose I owe you a cup of coffee for making you late to class.”

“What?” I check my watch. Panic rises inside me. Professor Rios doesn’t tolerate tardiness—especially from me. “I have ten minutes to get across campus, Marie.” She knows how I feel about making it to class on time. “I’ll meet you for lunch.”

“No.” She absolutely refuses to let me go. “Rios is a dick wad—let him wait.”

I sigh as she approaches the line at the food bar. Ten minutes later, she hands me a steaming cup of coffee. “What happened?” she asks, sitting across from me, her elbows resting on the table.

“It’s not a movie, Marie. There’s not much to tell . . .”
 

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “Your hands are trembling.”

I immediately hide them under the table. “Let’s just say I made the mistake of meeting Connor at a bar to pick up a pair of earrings I left behind.”

“What?”
Her eyes narrow. “I can’t believe . . .”
 

“I don’t need a reminder of how stupid that was,” I say. “Lucas showed up and dragged me home.”

“How did he know?”

“I left him a note. We were going out to dinner.”

“You wanted him to rescue you?” She takes a long swig of java.

“No. I’m not some damsel in distress. And I’m not into guys fighting over me—what kind of question is that?”

“Just wondering what happened to that smart kid I grew up with. Connor can’t be trusted, Karlie. From what I hear, he’s been on a drinking binge since the night you left.”

“That’s why I left the note for Lucas, so he wouldn’t worry.”

“Hah.” She waves her hand dismissively. “I keep forgetting how inexperienced you are. Real men worry. It’s assholes like Connor who don’t.”

“Thanks for the lesson.” I don’t like being reminded of how naïve I am. “Everything turned out fine.”

“Fine?” she repeats, studying me. “That’s it? Super cop seduces you and that’s all you’re going to say?”

“He’s—he . . .”
 

“Made you scream?”

“Several times,” I admit with a smile.

“Did you orgasm?” She’s on a roll.

“Several times.”

The chair next to me is pulled out. I look up just in time to see Charles Wagner flip it around and sit down uninvited. “Several times?” he says. “I’ve offered to bang you.”

I stare at Marie. She frowns. “Get the fuck out of here, Wagner,” she demands.

He throws his head back and laughs. “Couldn’t resist,” he says. “Neither could my teammates.” He points.

I look over my shoulder, and half the basketball team waves. I cover my face with both hands and take a deep, desperate breath.

“I’m proud of you, Augustine,” he says, standing up. “You had sex.”

He saunters away, his friends chuckling as they leave the cafeteria. “Great,” I say, slamming my hands on the table. “Now the whole campus will know by lunch.”

Marie snatches my hand. “Is that a bad thing?”

Charles has been after me all year, asking me out nearly every day. Of course I’ve always refused, letting him know I’m involved. But Connor never shows his face on campus, so the ongoing joke is that I have an imaginary boyfriend. “Could go both ways,” I say.

“Come on.” Marie pulls me to my feet. “I’ll walk you to class.”

Fifteen minutes later, I’m staring at the classroom door, afraid to open it. Charles is inside, and I’m sure he’s given a play-by-play account of our conversation. I grit my teeth and open the door. The lights are dimmed; Rios is giving a presentation. Just when I think I’m safe, claiming a desk in the back, he stops talking.

“Ms. Augustine,” he announces. “Pleased you finally decided to
 
join us.”

A dozen people gawk at me. I open my book bag and pull out my binder. I’m fully prepared to ignore anything anyone says.

Charles slides into the desk next to mine and drapes his arm behind me. “Here.” He offers his notepad. “You can copy my notes.”

“Why are you so determined to humiliate me?” I ask, pushing his tablet aside.

“Why do you keep saying no when I ask you out?”

Checkmate.
Charles is good-looking, rich, and popular enough to get whatever girl he wants—except me. “That’s my privilege.”

He shrugs and grins—egotistical bastard. “And it’s mine to do whatever it takes to convince you to change your mind.”

I open my eyes. That wasn’t some wet dream; Karlie and I made love. I sit up; her side of the bed is empty. “Karlie?” There’s no answer.

I throw back the covers and roll out of bed. I check the alarm clock: nine thirty. Goddamnit. Once again I slept through the night and didn’t even hear her leave. I pad to the bathroom, take a piss, wash my hands and face, then put on a pair of boxers before I head downstairs. My cousin is sitting at the dining room table, drinking a glass of orange juice and reading my paper.

“Mornin’,” I say, walking into the kitchen. There are coffee and croissants waiting for me, and a note from Karlie.

Sorry I had to rush out. I slept late and you looked so peaceful I didn’t have the heart to wake you. See you after class.

“She’s leaving you love notes now?” Craig asks.

I grab a mug from the dishwasher and fill it before I answer. “Monitoring my love life?” I say, walking into the dining room.

“When it doesn’t feel right.”

“Thanks, Mommy,” I retort. “But I’m a big boy now.”

“I stopped by yesterday—did she tell you?”

Considering everything that happened, she probably forgot. “No.”

“She’s making herself at home.” He turns the page, staring at me over the top of the paper.

“What’s your fucking issue?”

“Karlie Augustine.”

If he weren’t my cousin . . . I join him at the table, hoping he has a reasonable explanation. “She’s a good girl.”

“Never said she wasn’t,” he comments, lowering the sports section. “It’s the douche bags she hangs out with.”

“Connor Seville?”

He nods. “Several DWIs, and he’s under suspicion for drug dealing. You can’t afford to surround yourself with that kind of trouble. You just joined the department—think about your promotion. Everything is fair game with Internal Affairs.”

I take a deep breath. His concern is always appreciated, but his delivery sucks. “I already know about it, but that’s not going to keep me away from Karlie. Besides, you married a stripper. How PC is that?”

His shoulders stiffen. “Low blow.”

“Didn’t mean it that way.” That’s not completely true. Sometimes my cousin forgets his own sordid history. “Remember that adage about the sins of the father?”

“Don’t think biblical principles apply.”

“Give her a chance, Craig. Things moved a bit faster than I planned last night. We both lost control.”

He nods, obviously weighing the pros and cons of what I’m saying. “Now you’re going to play house?”

“I’m not playing.”

He licks his lips. “I’m not trying to be a prick—I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”

“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I won’t get a blow job in the back of my squad car.”

His jaw tics and I instantly regret what I said. My need to protect Karlie is overwhelming and a bit surprising. Whatever power she holds over me, it’s either going to make me a better man or kill me. “Sorry, bro. Let’s just agree to withhold judgment until we’ve both had time to get to know her better. If she’s as pure hearted as I think, she’ll win you over before you know it.”

“I hope so.” He sighs. “She’s beautiful.”

“I know.” And smart. Just thinking about her gives me a hard-on. “And a great cook.”

“Marisela invited both of you to dinner next Sunday. Let me know.”

“Is that why you came over?” Why didn’t he just call?

“That’s the
main
reason.”

“And?”

“Wanted to make sure you were okay.” He stands and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I just have a feeling about this girl. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m not. Just watch your back.” We fist-bump and he leaves.

I’m a good judge of character, and from the moment I spotted Karlie at the racetrack, my instincts translated something completely opposite of my cousin’s. All her personal troubles aside, I was drawn to her, not just her beauty. Some people have irresistible auras—not that bullshit you read about in horoscopes, but something as magnetic as the
aurora borealis
. Karlie shines. And I’ll do whatever I can to soak up the heat she radiates. I don’t have a better explanation yet, and I don’t need one.

Chapter Eleven

I pull into the driveway after six—late because of heavy traffic. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I had the flu because my throat is scratchy, my core temperature is too high, I have sweaty palms, and I’m breathing heavily. I stare at the front of the house through my windshield. The day after our first sexual encounter I didn’t call or text Lucas. What kind of message does that send? That I don’t give a shit? Of course that’s the farthest thing from the truth; for some unknown reason, I do.

I shut the engine off and grab my backpack off the passenger seat. The front door is unlocked, and after I step inside, my eyes have to adjust. It’s fairly dark and I notice the drapes have been closed on all the windows in the living room. What’s going on? I leave my bag and purse in the hallway. Candles are burning on the coffee table, mantel, breakfast bar, and table. Is that Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing”? I stifle a laugh. I know Lucas is into classic music, but . . .

The table is set, spinach salad and French bread waiting. I hear Lucas fumbling around in the kitchen. “Lucas?”

“In here.”

I peek around the corner. He’s holding a pan. “You cooked?”

He smiles and shrugs, placing the pan on the counter, then sheds the oven mitts. “I promised you dinner—sorry we didn’t make it last night.”

Heat floods my body. There’s a perfectly viable excuse for missing our first date; we’re both equally guilty. I stare at the floor, too embarrassed to face him. He tilts my chin upward.

“Don’t tell me you’re having regrets.”

“N-no.” Awkward. “I’m not used to this . . .” There’s still a sparkle in his eyes, but he frowns. I know he’s thinking about Connor. I am too. All the negative experiences—the painful memories. Missed dinners. Feeling taken advantage of. Unanswered passion.

“I know it will take some time to forget, Karlie,” he says, pulling me to his chest. “But if you give us a chance, I promise, you’ll never regret anything
we
share.”

I let my head rest against him. His heartbeat hammers against my ear, reassuring me of his presence. Lucas Lafontaine is real. I suck in a deep breath. This is one of those pivotal moments all the talk show hosts warn about. I’m in control of my own destiny right now. I gaze up at him. “You don’t regret last night?”

“Are you crazy?” He cups my face with both hands. “Good God, Karlie, I can’t get enough of you.” His lips brush over mine, his tongue tentatively testing my resistance.

There is none. I immediately open up to him, welcoming the warm moisture of his kiss. His big hands slide up my arms, then lift my girlie T-shirt, exposing my stomach. He groans as he massages my tummy, his fingers sneaking underneath the seam of my bra. He reaches around my back with his other hand.
Snap.
My breasts are suddenly free and he wastes no time caressing them. His callused fingertips evoke violent shivers.

Then he whips my shirt and bra off, leaving me wearing only my long cotton skirt and sandals. He drops to his knees, and his thumbs etch soft circles over my nipples. I don’t mind that he’s completely obsessed with my tats and breasts. “36DD?” he teases, his lips following the path his thumbs blaze across my areolas.

I smile. “Shrewd guess.”

He stares up at me. “Wasn’t a guess,” he assures me. “I’m an expert.”

Before I can respond, he rises, capturing my mouth with his. Dinner is going to get cold. But I don’t care—I’m lost again. Every thought and sensation I have revolves around Lucas and what he’s going to do to my body next. The dull ache between my legs is quickly turning into throbbing need. He pulls back and unbuttons his shirt. I watch, fascinated by his rippling muscles. Every inch of his body is toned to perfection and bronzed. He’s everything I love about South Texas men, a sun-worshipping water baby.

Shirtless now, he gathers me in his arms again. I reach up, burying my fingers in his hair. I tug gently and he growls. I do it again.