To Lucas’s utter amazement, the pair walked off toward a rusted-out green pickup, arm in arm. Turning to his dad, he said, “They’re nuts.”
“Nah,” Tom said. “They’ve been in love since high school. Just stubborn is all.” Pushing off the bench, he headed back inside. “They wouldn’t make you much money.” He watched the pickup drive away. “But they’d make sure you weren’t bored.”
“I wasn’t bored at what?” Lucas asked, bristling at the not-so-subtle implication. How many ways could he say he was not moving back to Anchor?
Tom met his gaze, then shrugged. “I just meant any lawyer around here. Didn’t mean to imply that lawyer might be you.” As he jerked open the door of the restaurant, he mumbled, “Heaven for-fucking-bid.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
By five o’clock, Sid was tired, covered in sweat, and teetering between pissed off and pitiful. The high of sex with Lucas, followed by sharing the dream she was determined to make a reality, fizzled quickly after Will showed up at the fitness center.
She’d tried to cling to Will’s words. The call was just an inquiry. No offer was on the table, and no sane person, especially a non-islander, would make an offer after seeing the building in person. But what if they only wanted the land? The building could be demolished for little expense. Someone with plenty of money could build something new.
The future she’d set for herself could be wiped out with one phone call.
So much for staying positive.
By seven, Sid had showered, slipped into pajamas, and killed half a six-pack. She hadn’t stopped at Dempsey’s because she didn’t want to seem too needy, and in her present mood she wouldn’t have been good company anyway.
They hadn’t made plans. Didn’t say when they’d see each other again. While she’d been working with Randy, Manny had asked if she and Lucas were an item. Sid hadn’t been sure how to answer. Did having a casual fling make them an item? Were they exclusive, or free to fling with anyone they wanted?
Sid didn’t want anyone else, but couldn’t think of a casual sounding way to tell Lucas that. He might bolt then, and losing both him and the garage in the same day would suck way more than she wanted to think about.
With that thought, a knock sounded at the door along with the words, “Anyone home?”
Lucas. Sid hopped up, catching her toe on the leg of the coffee table.
“Shitgoddamnsonofabitch,” was followed by every other curse word she knew as Sid bounced around on one foot. The pain subsided before the profanity ran out. Hobbling, she bent over and checked her hair in the TV. Still wet from the shower, the black mass was pulled into a clip on the back of her head with several wisps falling around her face.
Guys liked that, right? With a huff, she blew a lock off her forehead and headed for the door. “Screw it. If I’m lucky he won’t be looking at my hair.”
“Hey,” she said, opening the screen door. “Come on in.”
Lucas stepped through, and a hint of cologne filled her senses. Just having him close sent her temperature up several degrees. His hair looked damp, as if he’d recently showered, too. Standing just inside the door, he held out an envelope.
“Today was payday. Since you didn’t come by the restaurant, I thought I’d bring this over.”
She’d forgotten all about the paycheck. Now that the target was gone, there wasn’t much point in saving. “Thanks.”
An awkward silence fell between them. Lucas looked uncomfortable, leading Sid to assume he was afraid she’d expect him to stay. Sid didn’t know what she expected anymore.
Common sense told her not to make a fool of herself, but she asked anyway. “You want something to drink? I’ve got beer, soda, wine.”
“Soda’s good,” he said. Of course. If he intended to drive home, he shouldn’t have alcohol.
Worried he’d see the disappointment on her face, Sid headed for the kitchen. Not until she reached the fridge did she realize Lucas had followed. After sliding the cold can across the Formica, she popped a top on another beer for herself.
“Sid?” Lucas said, choosing to remain silent until she met his eyes. “If I don’t touch you soon I might spontaneously combust.”
To her own credit, Sid didn’t react. At least not where Lucas would be able to tell. She gently set the bottle on the counter. A tilt of the head was added to give the effect she was debating her response.
With what she hoped was a sexy grin, Sid said, “So what’s stopping you?”
Lucas exhaled for the first time since stepping out of his car. He had to be flashing the goofiest smile, but didn’t care. The only thing that mattered in that moment was the adorable pixie standing before him in oversized pajamas that covered every inch of the delectable curves he knew lurked beneath the cotton.
Taking those things off was going to be more fun than he could stand. But first things first. With one step forward, he cupped her face, tilting her head back and staring into milk chocolate eyes.
“Hi,” he said, enjoying the slide of silky curls along his knuckles. Feeling her heartbeat steady against his fingertips.
“Hi,” she answered. Her voice, low and breathy, vibrated through his whole body.
Slowly he leaned in, taking his time, enjoying making her wait. He knew from the night before Sid was not the most patient woman. A soft nip, then another before he pulled back. Her lips moved forward, trying to follow. Another nip and her hands slid up his arms as her body melted into his.
His own patience waned and he took her mouth full on. Heat spiked through him as her hands jammed into his hair. Wrapping his arms around her back, he lifted her off the floor as they tasted each other. This is what he’d been longing to do all day. Where he’d longed to be.
With Sid. Beside her. Touching her. Teasing her.
This was heaven, and he never wanted to be without it. The thought jarred him like a punch to the temple. He broke contact but continued to hold Sid off the floor. Staring into dark brown pools of lust, Lucas set her down gently. This was too much. Too fast.
He couldn’t think straight, and the blood flow headed south wasn’t helping. Putting air between them should have been his next move, but his arms were ignoring the messages coming from his brain. Bottom line, the organ upstairs was no longer in control.
“That was a pretty good greeting,” Sid said, sounding more girly than he’d ever heard her. She shifted against him and he went hard. Or rather, harder.
“How was your day?” he asked, taking her by the hand and heading for the couch. Talking. Talking should help. Casual talking.
“Oh,” Sid said, struggling to keep up. “It could have been better.” Lucas sat down, pulling her onto the cushion beside him. How he managed not to pull her into his lap, he didn’t know. “How about yours? When will Dempsey’s be ready to reopen?”
“If the delivery Vinnie put in to replace the lost meat comes through on Sunday, we should be up and running on Monday. Distributor said Highway 12 through Hatteras held up, so we should be good.”
He wanted boring talk and this was definitely it. Then Sid’s words sank in. “Did you say your day could have been better? What happened?”
“Just something I might have to deal with later.” Sid threw a gray pajama-clad leg over his knee. “Did you come all the way over here to discuss our days?”
Grasping for a distraction, he asked. “Are those … flying piggy banks on your pants?”
Sid shrugged. “Yeah. I thought they were cool. And the message on my shirt is not intended for you, of course.”
The shirt read, “I’m not antisocial, I just don’t like you.”
“Good to know.” Had someone kicked on the heat? Lucas turned his body until Sid’s leg dropped off, then draped an arm across the back of the couch. “What do you know about Willow?”