KILLIAN

 

I rapped on the door before I could talk myself out of it. Footsteps, light and feminine, echoed in the silence. Making sure I stood in front of the peephole, I wondered if Lucy would take one look and then back away.

I wouldn’t blame her. Not after last month’s disaster. And not after what Grandfather did to her.

Damn that old man!

The sound of several locks disengaging and then she was there. Looking beautiful and sweet in a loose white shirt with dark leggings, hair down, and small feet bare. No polish. Just naturally pink toes.

Fresh. Innocent. Clean.

What I used to be once upon a time…

Many emotions crossed her face, wrinkling her nose and closing her eyes. I hadn’t seen Lucy in almost a month, but it might as well had been a year.

Too long.

“Killian, what are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

I held my breath. This was her chance to get minor payback. What would I do if she denied me? Where would I go? The thought of being alone in my penthouse turned my stomach.

“Of course.” Lucy stepped back and held the door wide.

I stepped across the threshold and took a deep breath. Pine cleaner still lingered in the air. She must’ve cleaned the floors in the last hour. Toeing off my Italian leather shoes, I waited until Lucy closed the door.

She still might’ve changed her mind and tossed me back out on my ass. I wouldn’t blame her. Especially after Grandfather fired her.

“Can I take your coat?”

Coming here wasn’t one of my better ideas. I needed to prepare myself for a quick exit.

“No. Thank you. I’ll just hang onto it. I’m a little chilly…”

Dear. God. Was that babbling fool really me?

“Sure. Let me know if you change your mind.”

Lucy walked into the living room. I followed her. She stopped upon reaching the glass coffee table.

“I bet this place kicks up claustrophobia for you.”

“Hmm?” I murmured while looking around. It was all one room, living and kitchen. Yellow walls, white lace curtains, Formica table with sturdy red vinyl chairs—all that was missing were family pictures on the wall and a sad-eyed saint or two.

“It’s small.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

“Your closet is probably bigger than my whole apartment.”

“Absolutely.” Walking over to the box TV, I imagined it was older than me. I hit the top of it. Sturdy.

“Well?”

“Well what?” I glanced over at Lucy and saw that chin high up in the air. Ah. Late in understanding, I got it now. Little Lucy expected me to make fun of her for living in a shoebox.

Too bad I was about to disappoint.

I didn’t mind her cozy nest at all. I didn’t like oversized homes. They stirred nothing good in me. Probably why I was in such a constant foul mood when I spent too much time at my place.

Easy answer was to sell it and live in a tiny apartment. Then that would admit a weakness at the least or draw uninvited opinions at the worst.

“It’s cute.” A devil’s grin came upon me. Not exactly what she expected. Good. “Homey.”

“Cute and homey was exactly what I was aiming for.”

“Congrats then. You nailed it.”

“Hmph.”

Lucy clearly thought I was being sarcastic. I shook my head and tutted. “It’s called a compliment. Learn to take one.”

“I can take a compliment.”

“Just not from me.” Sinking into the faded velvet loveseat, I spread my arms across the back. The white chenille blanket beneath my arms still smelled of laundry. “You’re hurting my feelings.”

“You don’t have feelings.”

The accusation lacked heat. I smiled, much like an angel—or so I’d been told a time or two. Patting the seat next to me, I watched as Lucy clenched her jaw and then marched over to take her place by me.

It felt right.

My fingers itched to tug her smaller body against me. Lucy was much too tense though. I wanted her to want it—which meant I’d have to wait for the goddess to grant me her favors.

Impatiently.

“Why are you here?”

Hmm…it took her long enough to ask. I’d hoped I had longer because I still didn’t know.

Rubbing the blanket with my forefinger, I searched about for a suitable answer because God knew the truth was out.

“Killian?”

Her soft voice prompted me into saying, “I was just in the neighborhood.”

“The neighborhood. You never cross into this side of town. I know that because your Grandfather told me he couldn’t pay you to visit.”

Dammit. He would tell her that.

“Fine. I wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

Dammit again. Wasn’t it enough that I just did? Lucy was supposed to blush, stammer, and sit there in pleased silence. Instead, she cocked her head and looked at me as if I’d grown two.

I huffed and said, “Because I do, you irritating woman.”

This time she smiled. For real. Finally. She made no sense. I was nice to her and she viewed it with suspicion. I snapped and she acted as if I’d kissed her hand. Baffling.

“It’s nice to see you too, Killian. Would you like something to drink?”

“I don’t suppose you have any rum, do you?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Color me shocked.” My drawl brought out a delicate flush. Seeing it brought my equilibrium back.

Lucy got up and smoothed both hands down her leggings. Leggings that clung to every perfect curve of her beautiful ass. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as she walked into the tiny kitchen.

I did little to disguise my admiration for her figure—as long as her back was turned. As soon as that changed, I turned my head to look up at the ceiling, making sure I crossed my legs to hide my hard-on.

Damn but that made it worse.

“Here you go.”

I took the tumbler automatically. “You serve it neat. I like that.”

She shrugged, explaining, “I don’t like my rum watered down.”

“I thought you didn’t drink.”

“I don’t.”

“Well? What’s changed?”

Lucy shrugged. “It’s good to try new things.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really.”

We clinked glasses, each murmuring, “Salud,” before drinking. Rather, I took it in one shot while Lucy sipped hers. The fire burned down my throat, but the warmth chasing through my veins was worth it. The rum may not have been my usual brand, but it was good.

I felt her curious stare travel from the empty glass up to me. She clearly wanted to comment on it, but remained quiet. Good girl.

I wasn’t ready to talk. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Who was she to you?”

Frowning, I searched through memory but came up empty. “Who?”

Lucy’s jaw popped. I’d examine it later.

“Gisella.”

There it went again. Another jaw clench.

Apparently, my mischievous side wasn’t totally dead. “Hmm. Carter was wrong. I wouldn’t say she looked like you. Not exactly.”

“I agree.”

“You say that so confidently. Did you look her up on the internet?”

Lucy didn’t answer. Her eyes grew cold. It wasn’t a look I liked.

“You think he was right? You think I paid attention to you because you’re supposed to be her replacement?”

Lucy’s gaze bulldozed mine. “Didn’t you?”

Her brazen fearlessness proved other parts of me weren’t totally dead. “No.”

“You let her up at your place yesterday.”

“I did. How did you know?”

“How do you think?”

“Missed me that much, huh?” When she didn’t react, I pointed out “The concierge never contacted me that you were there.”

“He didn’t know because I didn’t go up to the desk.”

“Why not?”

“You were busy. I wasn’t going to interrupt.”

“No. You think Carter was right. There was nothing to it other than me and Gisella screwing each other’s brains out.”

I needed a reaction from her. Something, anything other than that awful blankness.

“What you do or don’t do is none of my business.”

“Cut the shit, Lucy. We’re both past that now.”

“Are we? You refused to answer any of my texts or calls.”

Moving my wrist this way and that, I wondered what Lucy would do if I let the glass slip from my fingers. Probably make me clean up my mess. Was that what I was doing here?

Maybe.

Lucy outwaited me, as usual. It would’ve been easier if she was chatty. I could’ve then distracted her with a shiny verbal bauble.

Just tell her the truth. What little you know of it.

“I didn’t want to see you or talk to you, Lucy, because I wasn’t ready. Not because I wanted to hurt you.”

I waited for her to squawk that I hadn’t hurt her. Of course, Lucy wouldn’t lie to soothe my rusty conscience.

“But you could see her. Alone.”

“I was trying to help an old friend. That’s all.”

Absolutely true. Every bit of it. Gisella and Carter were a fucked-up couple who deserved all the good and bad things they courted. I’d gotten in the middle of their war accidentally and seeing Gisella was all about extracting myself from it by becoming Swiss.

“That’s why she was there?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. She belongs to Carter, you see?”

Lucy wouldn’t see. How could she? Carter’s passive acceptance of his ass-kicking had more to do with my visitor and less to do with my fighting prowess. Stupid, self-destructive bastard.

Pot meet kettle.

“Okay.”

“Lucy, I need you to believe me.”

“I do. Are you hungry? I can whip something up if you are.”

“No. Thank you.”

It was over that quickly? No quick stab to the gut about how I was a selfish prick? A womanizer? Really?

“Are you sure?”

For a moment, I thought I’d said it out loud.

“Pardon?”

“Food. Are you sure you don’t want me to make you something?”

“Perhaps another time. Thank you again.”

The words were becoming harder to form. It was important for me to be kind. An emotion I visited rarely, but for Lucy I’d make the effort. It wasn’t her fault I’d shown up on her doorstep.

Nothing that was changing in me was really her fault. Tomorrow I’d feel differently, but today I’d make friends with honesty.

I had Jorge drive me all the way here for a simple reason—I wanted to be with Lucy because she’d understand. Even if she’d never gone through something like this, Lucy would understand because she wasn’t afraid of having a heart.

Unlike me.

“Are you sure, Killian?”

Startled, I brought my attention back to her. A part of me wondered if she’d just pried my head open and called me out. I tried to remember what we were talking about.

Food.

“I’m sure. Thank you for your hospitality, Lucy.”

Third time was the charm. Although if she asked me yet again, I wasn’t sure if I’d be so kind.

She blinked rapidly. “I…uh…wow. Sorry. It’s just I’m not used to you being so…”

“What?”

“Nice.”

“Don’t worry,” I sighed. “I’ll get back to normal. Tomorrow. Promise.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yes. I suppose.”

Lucy didn’t ask anything else. She sat next to me quietly. The tension didn’t fully leave, but it no longer threatened to break every bone in my body.

Her silence did much to soothe the manic thoughts whirling throughout. But apparently, Lucy’s magic had its limits. Memories oppressed me. I just couldn’t shake the belief that it shouldn’t have turned out this way.

Why had Grandfather automatically believed the worst of me? I would’ve never purposely put Lucy in danger. Hell, I was now in the system for defending her honor.

As if that wasn’t enough, gossip spread far and fast, reaching all the way to Austria.

Fuck me.

Now it was time for the salt in my wound. I couldn’t even text Timmy to give him a heads up, much less talk to him. Grandfather wasn’t going to back down. Neither was I.

He would’ve left me there to rot if it wasn’t for Lucy.

He humiliated me in front of her.

He abandoned me again.

There were lines that shouldn’t be crossed and words that couldn’t be forgiven. Rafael King was guilty of both. He’d turned his back on me without hesitation.

And to do it so close to this day…I’d held onto Grandfather for too long, thinking there was a place for me in his world. Clearly there wasn’t.

But if there was even a remote chance I’d get to keep Timmy in my life…well, I’d swallow more than my pride if I had to.

My wrist twirled faster. The glass slipped until I barely held on.

Everything had gotten fucked and I couldn’t figure out a way to un-fuck it. My mind failed me. Perhaps playing games was all it was good for.    

Light as a butterfly kiss, Lucy’s hand touched mine. I looked at her, seeing the concern in her lovely face.

“Killian, about the other night—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lucy bit her lip. It was obvious to anyone with eyes to see she had more to say. I didn’t want her to thank me for taking the heat. I especially didn’t want Lucy to probe as to why I covered for her.

“Okay. Why did you come here today, Killian?”

I had three options. Lie. Evade. Admit.

I set the truth free.

“Today is the anniversary of my mom’s passing.”

“Oh, Killian! I’m so sorry!”

Lucy’s eyes watered and instantly I could tell it was genuine. Which only made me feel worse. I couldn’t cry. Hadn’t. Not even when she died. Timmy was only a toddler but even he knew Mom wasn’t coming back. Everyone wailed their grief.

Except me.

I wondered every day, “What’s wrong with me? Why do I live like this? Why do I push everyone away? Why can’t I cry?”

“How long has it been since she…” Lucy abruptly bit her lip.

I didn’t resist the urge to brush back her hair so I could see her better. “It’s been eleven years. It doesn’t feel like it.”

She didn’t rush to fill in the gaping silence, as if a flurry of words could erase the ugliness of real emotion. Nor did she look away, awkward and obviously wishing I’d bring the topic back to something allowing for polite indifference.

“Ten.”

I opened my mouth to retort “I believe I’d know better than you!” when I stopped. Lucy’s gaze slid away as she drew her legs up on the couch and wrapped one arm around them.

Understanding.

“Which one?”

“My mom.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

Just a handful of simple words that usually had no true meaning, but spoken between us, they mattered. The air hummed with memories, brittle with grief. Strangely, I found myself wanting to say something, anything, to make Lucy think of a world beyond death and suffering.

But I stopped myself.

Lucy had a right to her grief every bit as much as I had to mine.

Sometimes that was the worst part of being in this morbid club. Everyone was so desperate for you to not be sad that you just ended up lying to make them go away.

Or you just stopped feeling.

Hesitant, I rested my hand next to hers. When she didn’t move away, I carefully reached out with a pinkie. My heart kicked up, pounding away at my eardrums. Would she accept my touch or recoil?

If she did, then what? If she didn’t? The same.

Recognizing I was as nervous as a school boy, I squared my shoulders and stared straight ahead. I enfolded her hand. The warmth of Lucy’s fingers seeped through the coldness in mine.

“Sometimes it feels like life is going to be okay. More than okay. Good even. And then other days…” Her sigh said everything.

“And other days you wonder how you’ll even get out of bed much less be a decent human being.”

“Yeah. Pretty much.” Lucy squeezed my hand. “Killian, I can’t say I know exactly how you feel…but I do understand.”

“I know.”

We sat there, staring at the wall and looking bonkers to anyone having the nerve to peek in on us. But this was the most connection I’d allowed myself to have in years.

And I did it with Lucy.

Did I want to sink deep inside her warmth? Yes. God yes. But for once that impulse didn’t override everything else. Much like sex, I didn’t want this to end. Unlike sex, who I did it with mattered.

Lucy Martin mattered.

Eventually, the sun set. Orange flames danced across the white wall, rousing us both from our silence.

I’d been up for too long and fatigue finally hit me like a ton of bricks. So much so I didn’t hear Lucy until she waved her hand in front of my face.

“Hmm? What?”

“The necklace and earrings.”

“What about them?”

“I still have them here. You probably want them back. That’s why I went to your place the other day, to return them.”

Shrugging, I covered up a yawn. “Hold onto them for now.”

“I don’t feel comfortable doing that.”

“Why not?” Another yawn.

“Because of how important they are.” Lucy looked down and drew a circle on her leg. “Mr. King told me they were your mom’s.”

“I’m sure he did.” I itched to ask her about how her firing went down when I suddenly decided it wasn’t worth it. I didn’t want to talk about my humiliation. I doubted she’d want to talk about hers. “Keep them here for a bit more.”

“Aren’t you worried that they’ll get stolen?”

“You planning on pawning them? I advise you not to. You’ll only get a point or two what they’re worth.”

“I’d never do that!”

Smirking, I stretched my arms above my head. “I know you wouldn’t. Keep them safe for me, Lucy. Promise?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Another yawn and then another.

“When’s the last time you had a good night’s rest?”

“Too long to remember.”

“Come on.”

“Where?”

“Don’t fight me.”

“Sounds ominous.”

Lucy smiled and then took me by the hand, leading me to the back of the apartment. Was it too much to hope she was going to break her vow by taking me to bed? Feminine comfort appealed greatly at the moment, but…I wouldn’t want to take Lucy like this.

Not when the stench of grief still clung to me.

She opened the door and immediately I could see this was a guest room. No sex for us tonight. It was small, sparse, but clean. Standing in the doorway, I watched while Lucy went about turning down the bed.

Such a small thing, but the care that went into it nearly broke my heart.

Why couldn’t I be whole? Why couldn’t I just accept the goodness in life without trying to twist it into something depraved?

Why wasn’t I good enough yet?

Lucy stood up and held her hand out. It wouldn’t be difficult to take that hand and kiss it. Those kisses would lead to more and then she could be splayed out across the bed with me over her. I’d give her pleasure she’d remember until her dying day…

I’m not scared.

Except I was. I didn’t want to break her and I would if I seduced her to break her code. I wouldn’t mean to damage Lucy, but it would be too late. Better for me to be decent, especially today.

Taking her hand, I let her pull me to the bed. She reached up and slid my coat off my shoulders before removing my suit jacket and vest as well. Her small fingers nimbly undid my tie and then she unbuttoned the top three buttons.

“Here. Sit down.”

I obeyed the soft command. Lucy knelt and for once I understood it wasn’t for my cock. She slipped the socks off my feet, folding them over and placing them at the end of the bed. I couldn’t help myself. I reached for her head, smoothing my palm down to the nape of her neck.

Lucy looked up, dark eyes fastened on mine. Unspoken words swam between us. We stood at the precipice where numerous paths stretched before us both. Once more the desire to connect with Lucy physically rose up insistently, above and below the waist.

I pushed that need to the side. Lucy was more than a wet pussy. She was whole in ways I wasn’t. She deserved more than having her hospitality and kindness turned against her.

Simply put—Lucy trusted me and I trusted her.

For now.

Shifting, I pulled my legs up and slid under the covers. Lemon and lavender filled my lungs. I loved the smell of her detergent and told her so.

Lucy grinned. “It’s my own recipe.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.”

Turning on my side, I asked, “How do you even have the time to make your own detergent?”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Closing my eyes, I let out a long sigh. Truly it felt surreal to be in Lucy’s tiny apartment over the bodega, falling asleep while she sat next to me. I didn’t have to question the long-mourned memory of safety and peace this brought.

I just accepted it.

Tomorrow I’d return to the insufferable asshole I usually was. The one I had to be for my own sanity. For now, it was okay to be someone else. Just for a little bit more.

Lucy smoothed her hand over my hair before resting it on my brow. The sweetness of the gesture nearly undid me. Tears prickled behind my lids. A knot grew in my throat. My mother’s name held firm to the tip of my tongue.

I could never cry and now this flaw of mine wanted to break? Here? Now? In front of her?

It was bad enough for Lucy to have been there when I got released. Worse, for her to see Grandfather slap the shit out of me three times. But to see me cry?

Impossible.

This was ridiculous. I was a grown man who should’ve long overgrown the need for his mommy. Bitter words rooted into me, demanding I lash out at this beautiful young woman who’d inadvertently caused this pain so she’d go away and not see how weak I really was.

I behaved.

Sometimes I lashed out because the other party bored me and wouldn’t stop inflicting themselves on me. I felt little guilt for that. Besides, I always gave fair warning. It wasn’t my fault if it went unheeded.

This was different. Lashing out now would be wrong. I’d feel guilty for days if I indulged.

Maybe I wasn’t strong enough to banish my pain, but I was strong enough to be kind to Lucy. She needed to leave me to my suffering so I couldn’t hurt her.

“I want to kiss you, Lucy, but I can’t. I won’t want to stop and…I just want you to know you do matter.”

“Killian, I…I…thank you. You matter to me too—”

No. Too much. Too soon. Not enough.

“Good night, Lucy Martin. Thank you for today.”

My little goddess showed me mercy. She didn’t fight to stay or pout. Instead, she leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Rest, Killian. Take all the time you need. I’ll be in the living room for a few more hours if you need anything, okay?”

I nodded and watched her get up and walk out of the room. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did.