I was embarrassed...

...thoroughly.

I’d broken down and told a man I barely knew, all the sordid details of that day, and those that followed. Lucca had been naturally appalled, his anger simmered, his restraint admirable. Once all was said and done and my shot nerves had calmed, he’d carried me to bed, laid me down and pulled the comforter around me. Then he’d climbed in next to me and wrapped his arms around my raw frame, where silence consumed for a long, long time. I had felt safe. Safe in the arms of Lucca Rinaldi. I’d drifted off into tainted sleep only to wake and find the spot next to me vacant.

Of course, he’d gone. Who would have stayed?

Two days later and I still couldn’t find an inkling of warmth the way I had with Lucca wrapped around me. I’d sat staring listlessly out at the water on many occasions for hours, thinking of nothing. Numbness had taken over, its grip solid, the blanket glacial.

Taylor was picking up on my monotone voice over the phone and threatened an intervention. I loved my sister dearly, but I was tired of her being an audience to my morbidity. I’d convinced her I was okay, and I’d be out and about today, if only to appease her. She was coming to stay the night, regardless, no chance to decline, it was no offer.

And therein lay the problem – what did I do now? Did I hunt down Lucca, apologise for my lack of self-restraint? Did I ignore what happened and hoped the next time we crossed paths it wouldn’t be an issue? Because we would see each other again, of that I had no doubt. I didn’t understand the compulsion I’d had to blurt out my darkest hours to him. Apparently, my no brain to mouth filter was a thing when I was around him; a sure-fire way to make him run screaming for the hills.

There was a niggle though, a teeny tiny one whispering in my ear, that Lucca wasn’t the kind of guy to run away from anything. He didn’t give off that vibe. The only thing to do was to take my cue from him, play it the way he led it. It’s not like I’d been in this position before. Marc had known my past was dark, making me wary of men and relationships, beyond that - nothing else. I’d never blurted out to anyone until Lucca sat on my couch and confessed his own struggle with the few words he’d said.

Kindred spirits.

That, too, whistled around my semi addled brain. No denying I felt lighter for spilling all and sundry to Lucca. This had been mine and Taylor’s secret for so long, to share it with someone else dislodged a burden. We didn’t typically discuss those days, we didn’t need nor want to. The aftermath and subsequent years had been painful enough without dredging up nightmares that curdled the hardest of stomachs.

So, back around again - what was I to do?

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, I pondered and drank my coffee, which helped to ward off the chill from the house. I hadn’t had the wherewithal to light my fire the past two days and the cold was permeating the air harsher than usual. I hugged my jumper tighter around me as I sipped the coffee again. The beeping text noise on my phone startled me enough to jump and spill the hot liquid across my hand.

“Shit!”

I grabbed the kitchen towel and wiped at the sloppy mess in front of me, thankful it hadn’t hit my phone. I wanted to shut the day out, but I’d promised my sister I’d make the effort. It was already gone one in the afternoon, so I lifted my phone, expecting a barrage of expletives from a pissed off Taylor.

Unknown: Hi. I hope it’s ok to text. T gave me your number, said u wouldn’t mind. Lucca

Pitter patters of nerves unfurled in my stomach as I read the text. Although our encounter had been awkward the other day, I’d intended on seeing him again, found that I liked him from what I’d seen of him. His text was a huge deal, and as I said earlier; I’d take his lead, and this was certainly one in the right direction.

Me: Hey! Yes, it’s fine.

Well, that sounded breezy enough.

I left the ball in his court, hoping I didn’t come across as being too aloof. I’d explained enough already during my meltdown on my sofa, maybe it was his turn. My message alert popped up and I grinned.

Unknown: U fancy a coffee?

Unknown: If u r free of course

Did I? What harm would it do? I felt comfortable around Lucca, more comfortable than I’d been around any other man in my life. I craved his company, even if I had made a tit of myself the other day. I saved the unknown text number to my phone, grinning. No swooning over him, I’d calmed down at least and wasn’t objectifying him like I had the first time we’d met. My tale of woe and his generous ear had put a slant of reality on my fantasies. He was a terrific looking guy, and yes, I was attracted to him. But I could keep a lid on any lust for the sake of a friendship with him. He’d make a great friend, aiming for that at the most was the wisest thing to do.

Me: Sure. I’d love to. When?

Shit, did that sound too eager?

Lucca: At the Lewis place now. Come down. I’ll meet you

I was dressed for the day and had nothing pressing to get on with – if I didn’t count prepping a wall for tiles. Going out for coffee would mollify that sister of mine too, so I shot a text back.

Me: OK. See you soon

Truth be told, I was quite excited to get a look in the old Lewis place, after turning around the other day. On the times Taylor and I had wandered down to nose about the building we could never see in, newspapers thwarted our view. I wanted to see it’s story before Lucca and Ryder did their thing. I was a sucker for old places, always had been.

As an afterthought I grabbed my camera before swinging my heavy coat on. I was chittering enough, I didn’t want to freeze. I notched up my heating as I breezed out the door, why I hadn’t done it earlier I’d never know.

It was a brisk walk to the docks, still icy outside, weather I hated. The unrelenting cold snap wouldn’t let up. I wasn’t a fan of jumpers and boots, they felt restrictive and sometimes I found it difficult to breathe bundled in so many layers for months on end. Perfect armour for some, not for me. I preferred my skirts and vests, clothes that wouldn’t strangle and suffocate me. My life already restrained enough.

Stopping half way down the pier, I pulled my camera from my bag. I snapped a couple of shots of the outside before continuing to the front doors. The old papers had been peeled back and revealed a bright, elongated room. For the first time I could see how big the space inside was. Lucca and Ryder had a task on their hands beyond question.

I didn’t even get a foot inside though, I was sliding my camera into the top of my bag when the clasp of a warm hand on my own had me stumbling back. The skin to skin contact startled me. I took a moment to gather myself then looked up into those warm, chocolate coloured eyes that held me captivated. Lucca was grinning down at me.

“Hey,” he said.

Nervous ticks jolted in my stomach. Awkwardness was blessedly absent, deciding to bare my soul to this man had possibly not been such a dreadful thing after all. I was delighted to see him.

“Hi.” My returning smile was a mile wide.

“Let’s go get some coffee.” He motioned down towards the café where Jenny worked.

“By all means, lead the way.”

We walked side by side down to the Boardwalk café and as I pushed through the door I felt his hand on the small of my back, even through my heavy coat. He wasn’t afraid to touch – good to know. Drinks ordered from a grinning Jenny, Lucca led me to a table in an alcove at the back of the room. It was cosy and semi-private, which I preferred.

I pulled my coat off, leaving my cosy mohair scarf around my neck, it was rare that I left my skin exposed, not liking the stares I often received.

“You have quite a bit of work to do down there, huh?”

“Yeah. Worth it though.”

“You do that a lot?” I asked. “Renovating, I mean.”

“That’s my trade. All the places we’ve bought have been run down but this one’s the smallest.”

“Change of scenery then.”

“Oh yeah, absolutely.” He held my gaze, “I’m liking the scenery very much.”

Lucca’s mouth tipped up in a cheeky lilt and I couldn’t get over the way his whole face lit up the way it did. A tinge of heat warmed my cheeks.

“I’m sorry for the other day,” I blurted out, feeling the need to apologise. He’d certainly gotten more than he’d bargained for.

“I’m not, Laura.” He reached over and tugged at my hand, twining my chilly fingers with his warmer ones. “I hope I made it obvious I’d like to get to know you better, be your friend.”

I waved him off. “You don’t need my sob stories, Lucca.”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

Yes, yes, he had, and again I questioned what the hell had induced me to give him the horrific details from years ago. I was surprised he was entertaining me at all after the show I’d given him. Who wanted an emotionally and physically scarred mess of a woman? I didn’t want to walk back down memory lane today, didn’t want to feel sorry for myself, so I changed the subject.

“Your turn. What’s your story, Lucca?”

He removed his hand and sat up straighter in his seat. I noticed the yellow wedding band I’d heard him throw on his dashboard in his car, hadn’t made a reappearance on his finger. I was still more than curious about his relationship status, I wasn’t going to lie.

“My story?” He shook his head, the misery I’d glimpsed on my sofa clouding his eyes. “Very complicated.”

“How long have you been married?” I encouraged the conversation, extending the same courtesy he had to me.

“Twenty odd years,” he said in a matter of fact way. “I filed for divorce about a month or two ago.” He thinks for a moment. “Two months.”

There was no emotion in his voice as he spoke, and my heart sank at his unobvious pain. Twenty years was a long time, people rarely got over that kind of thing fast. Jesus...I had to put this man firmly in the friend box or risk being a rebound. Because that is what I would be. He was probably like me, looking for a friend or two.

“It’s been dead in the water a long time now,” he continued, “should have been done years ago.”

“You got kids?”

Unless something awful or drastic had happened, they must have. Twenty years of marriage and you have to have a kid or two, right? A ball of nerves wound tight inside me as I awaited his answer. When his face lit up, I didn’t need to hear his words to know he had a most precious gift I never would.

“Yes - Ayden. Though he’s not a kid anymore.” Fishing out his wallet from his jeans pocket, Lucca searched out a photograph. “He’s twenty now.”

He handed me a passport sized photo of a teenage boy who clearly took after his father. Very good looking, only a younger version; his skin less olive than his father’s, his hair lighter. Guilt poked at me for being thankful he didn’t have a brood of toddlers and teenagers tucked away. An almost man I could deal with being around, if our friendship grew.

I handed the photo back. “Handsome chap, killer with the ladies, yeah?”

He burst out laughing, tucking his wallet away. “Yeah, but that’s not his flavour.”

My eyes widened at his admission. It wasn’t that I was stunned, just surprised to hear Lucca so candid about it. I mentally ticked off another brownie point in my head of all the right things this man had going on for him.

“Poor ladies, then. And your wife?”

Lucca’s demeanour dulled when he sighed. “Ex-wife. Not a pleasant topic of conversation.” He leaned over and brushed a wisp of hair from my forehead. “Let’s say I’m not sorry, nor am I sad.” He looked intently at me, imploring me to believe him. I did. His fingers brushed down my cheek before he moved back, picking up his mug. “Besides, best way to get over someone is to get under someone, so I’ve been told. I’m looking forward to that part.” He waggled his eyebrows at me cheekily.

I almost fell off my chair at his blatant innuendo, thankful I wasn’t drinking my coffee. Lucca smirked at me, the twinkle in his eyes hard to miss.

“That the best you got, Lucca?” I asked with as much seriousness as I could stand, trying to keep my face straight.

“Oh God, that sounded ridiculous.” He placed his mug on the table. “I swear I’m not that guy, but so worth it to see you laugh.”

He could be right; the feeling was mutual. I wasn’t blind to the grief that swirled inside him. I guessed like knew like; it was the same thing I saw in myself every time I looked in the mirror. Now, I had to ask if he really was over his wife or putting on a show. There was an undeniable connection and I started thinking along the lines of comfort and one-night stands. I was in no position to offer anything more and it didn’t seem like he could be either. I felt the chemistry sparking between us, maybe getting it out of our system would be an enjoyable thing? It didn’t scare me so perhaps I should take advantage. He was a grown man, knew his own mind. Maybe we could take a chance on the sex, heal some wounds.

“You might be onto something though,” I said, speaking my intentions out loud.

His face stilled, and he gawped at me. He thought for a while before replying. “You’re not the type of woman a man takes on a rebound, Laura. No matter what you think.”

I nodded jerkily. I was worth more. The thought was so delicious I couldn’t bring myself to push it from my mind. “Be fun to try though.” I tried to keep the hesitation from my tone, not to give away my nervous but serious reply.

I glanced away, not able to take his reaction. I’d never been so bold in my life but for some reason, I wanted to get into bed with this man, damned the consequences.

“I don’t doubt it for a second,” he agreed. “What if I wanted more than what was beneath your clothes? What if I can’t be the man that can show a girl a good time and then walk away?”

“Then I’d say you’re looking at the wrong girl.”

“Perhaps I’m not.”

“You saw me at The V, Lucca,” I reminded him.

“Only for a moment,” he confessed. “That happen often?”

“Just Marc, he’s been the only man in eight years.” He caught my drift and his eyes widened. “What about you?”

“There’s only ever been Stella.”

I presumed Stella was the name of his wife. I wasn’t surprised at his admission, he didn’t seem the sort to fuck around and step out on his marriage.

“I can’t say the same for her.” I detected the hurt in those words so chose to ignore. I’d be disappointed if he wasn’t upset about his wife cheating on him. “I’m not that guy, Laura.”

He’d been nothing but straightforward with me since the moment we’d met, and I didn’t get that icky vibe from him. Lucca seemed an all-round exceptional guy with some baggage that went by the name of Stella.

“I have a meeting with a contractor in...” he peered at his watch, “...half an hour. Can we do this again?” He motioned between us. “You have my number. Please, use it.”

He got up from his chair and came around the table to where I was sitting. Leaning down, he kissed me on the head. “I’m not that guy, Laura.” His whispered words tickled my cheek.

“All right. Thank you.” I blushed crimson for no reason other than his sheer presence made me feel aware of things I hadn’t in a long, long time.

“I mean it, use it. I want to see you again.”

He sauntered from the café and I found myself staring at the muscular frame of his body until he disappeared from sight. Sitting there on my own didn’t feel as good as when Lucca had been opposite me. Loneliness was such a bitch, I hated it crept up at the weirdest of times.

Time to move. Ladies room first then home to chip those awful avocado green tiles from my bathroom wall. I got up and headed to the back of the café where I quickly saw to my business before returning to finish my coffee.

“Mind if I join you?”

I squinted up into the face of a woman somewhat older than myself, flawlessly made up, stunning. I was wary of her sudden appearance, Beaufort was a friendly village, people liked to get to know one another, so I cautiously tipped my head in reply, inviting her to sit. I’d been in Beaufort a while now and I hadn’t remembered seeing her before. I studied her while she set down what looked like an espresso in front of her. Long blond hair styled to perfection fell down her back, her clothes expensive. An outsider or a newcomer I guessed. She smiled at me saying ‘thank you’ as she pulled out the chair and sat down.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no. Of course not.” I shook my head. “Beautiful day for some company,” I said, keeping the conversation casual and impersonal so I could make my excuses to leave.

“Good.”

The warm air of the room chilled for a moment as the woman settled into her seat, getting comfortable. I put the sensation down to a sudden breeze sweeping through the door until I peered up at the stranger again. Her smile was all but gone. Her narrowed eyes pierced into me as she picked up her small cup and took a sip before setting it back down. Her delicate movement was at odds with the unwavering gaze she was giving me. A shiver coursed up my spine and I gingerly looked away.

“I know who you are, Jessie,” she stated, venom lacing her words.

I froze in my chair, every bone in my body tensing up. My breath caught in my throat and I could feel the quick beats of my heart as they picked up in my chest. I tried to act nonchalant, hoping my voice didn’t falter. “Is that so?”

I wanted to pick up my own coffee cup, feign composure. My hands were shaking so I didn’t bother, instead, tucking them under the table so she couldn’t see my fingers trembling.

“Yes.” She looked down towards Lucca’s restaurant. “Yes, Jessie, I know who you are.”

I found myself annoyed at the brashness of this woman and my anger surfaced. I was so sick of panicking whenever the mere sniff of confrontation presented itself. I pushed my irritation down and pulled my claws out, determined not to allow a stranger to reduce me to a quivering mess in public.

“I’m sorry.” I mustered a smirk. “I don’t know you at all. I’d apologise for that, but...” I trailed off intentionally and reached for my coffee, picking up the damned cup with resolve.

“Ah, you do have some fight in you then?” She mocked. “You’re going to need it, Miss Hamilton.”

I almost choked on my coffee at the cheek of her. “What do you want?”

I was far from stupid, it was clear this was no random meeting, she was no newcomer. This perfectly coifed woman was here to stake a claim on something – or someone.

“What do I want?”

The rhetorical question was for theatrics, surely. I rolled my eyes, two could play her game and I could be as dramatic when I put my mind to it.

“My husband is not on the market.”

“Your husband?”

Well, hell...

It could be I was stupid for I had no idea who on earth she was talking about. I threw her a puzzled look...and then the penny dropped. Hard. She cackled, a high-pitched noise that hurt my ears, seeing the moment of realisation play out on my face.

“Not now, not ever.” She pointed a blood red, manicured nail at me. “Especially not for you, Jessie Hamilton.”

She stood swiftly, rounding on me and leaned into my ear. “Stay away from Lucca.”

Lead filled my veins. I couldn’t bring myself to confront her, too afraid to see in her face all the other things she knew about me. She must. She’d called me by my old name.

There was a jolt at my neck and a whisper across my shoulder. “Nice scarf by the way.”

My vision blurred. I heard clear as day her heels clacking on the wooden floor as she left. I lifted my head to watch her stroll away, all the while my stomach revolted, and my skin grew clammy. She threw her head back, giving a parting look full of disgust and contempt.

Oh, shit...