Helen Lacey - Lucy and The Lieutenant

“Well, I guess if I was buying a pony, all bases would be covered.”

Her chuckle started out soft and then morphed into a full-on, loud guffaw. By the time she was done there were tears on her cheeks. She wiped them away and thrust out her chin.

“Wow...you do have a sense of humor.” Her eyes shimmered. “Your cousin was right, you’re not always a complete killjoy.”

“No,” he said easily. “Not always.”

“So, this being a jerk thing...that’s something you save especially for me?”

Brant’s mouth twitched. “I have to get my keys,” he said, ignoring the question. “Wait here.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Aren’t you going to invite me upstairs?”

To his apartment? His bedroom? “Not a chance,” he said and strode off without looking back.

* * *

Lucy wrapped her arms around herself and wandered through the tavern. Every sense she possessed was on red alert. By the door he’d been so close...close enough that she could have taken a tiny step and been pressed against him. The heat from his skin had scorched hers. The warmth of his breath had made her lips tingle with anticipation. It was desire unlike any she’d known before. And she wanted it. She wanted him. She wanted his kiss, his touch. She wanted every part of him to cover every part of her.

And she shook all over, thinking about her false bravado. She’d never spoken to man in such a blatantly flirtatious tone before. But being around Brant was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. As inexperienced as she was, flirting and verbally sparring with him seemed to have a will and a power all of its own.

“Ready?”

He was back, standing by the steps that led upstairs. Lucy swallowed hard and nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

He shrugged loosely. “My truck’s out back.”

“No motorbike?”

He raised a brow and began to walk toward the rear of the building. “Not in this weather.”

He was right, but the idea of being behind him on his motorbike, holding on to him, being so close she’d be able to feel his heartbeat, made her pulse race.

“So you’re only reckless with yourself. That’s good to know.”

Brant stopped midstride and turned. “What?”

Lucy held out three fingers. “That’s how many times you’ve been in hospital in the past seven months. Twice off your bike because you were speeding and once when you thought it was a good idea to climb Kegg’s Mountain—alone—and without the proper gear, I might add.”

“You’re still talking too much,” he muttered and then kept walking.

Lucy followed him down the long hallway, past the kitchen and restrooms, and then through the rear door. He waited for her to walk outside and locked the door. It was still snowing lightly and she took quick steps toward the beat-up, blue Ford pickup parked outside. He opened the passenger door, ushered her inside, strode around the front of the vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat.

“What’s your address?” he asked.

Lucy gave him directions and dropped her bag into her lap.

She expected him to immediately start the truck and drive off. But he didn’t. He put the key in the ignition but placed both hands on the steering wheel. And then he spoke.

“I wasn’t speeding. My bike blew a tire the first time and the second time I swerved to avoid hitting a dog that was on the road.”

It was meant to put her in her place. To shut her up. To end the conversation.

But Lucy wasn’t one to be silenced. “And the mountain?”

“I was unprepared. Not a mistake I would make again.” He started the engine and thrust the gear into Reverse. “Satisfied?”

Lucy’s skin tingled. The idea of being satisfied by Brant Parker had her insides doing flip-flops. Of course, he wasn’t being suggestive, but Lucy couldn’t help thinking how good a lover he would be. Not that she would have anything to make a comparison with. But she had a vivid imagination and she had certainly fantasized about being between the sheets with the man beside her.

She smiled sweetly. “I guess I didn’t hear the whole story because I didn’t attend to you the night you were brought into the ER.”

He shifted gears again and turned into the street. “I thought my mother would have kept you updated. You and she seem to have become quite the twosome.”

“I like your mom,” Lucy replied. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, my mom is a good person.” He turned left. “She also likes to play matchmaker.”

Lucy’s mouth twitched. She knew that. Colleen had been gently pushing her in Brant’s direction for months. “Does that make you nervous?” she asked, turning her gaze. “I mean, now she’s got Grady settled and engaged to Marissa, do you think you’re next?”

She watched his profile. Impassive. Unmoving. Like a rock. But he was trying too hard. The pulse in his cheek was beating madly. He wasn’t so unmoved. He was simply reining his feelings in...as usual.

“She’s wasting her time.”

Lucy tried not to be offended and managed a brittle laugh. “Considering how happy your brother is now, you can’t blame your mom for wanting the same for you.”

“I’m not my brother.”

No, he wasn’t. She knew Grady Parker. Oh, he still had the Parker pride and was a teeny bit arrogant, but he was a good-natured, hardworking family man with three little girls to raise and had recently found love again with Marissa Ellis. The wedding was only a couple of weeks away and Lucy knew Brant was standing as his brother’s best man. She’d been invited, more to please Colleen Parker than anything else, she was sure. And since Brooke and Ash were both going and she liked Marissa and Grady, she was delighted to be part of their special day.

“Have you got a speech prepared?” Lucy asked, shifting the subject. “For the wedding, I mean. I hear you’re the best man. That should be a fun gig...even for you.”

He pulled the truck up outside her house, set the vehicle into Park and switched off the ignition. Then he turned in his seat and looked at her, his jaw set rigid. Boy, he was tense. And the intensity of it crackled the air between them. Lucy met his gaze and held it. Felt the heat of his stare as though he was touching her, stroking her, caressing her. She shuddered and she knew he was aware of the effect he had over her. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as though he knew he shouldn’t react but couldn’t resist.

If he moved, if he so much as lowered his defenses in any way, Lucy would have planted herself against him and begged for his kiss. She wanted it. Longed for it. But he continued to look at her, into her, making her achingly aware of the intimacy of the small space they shared.

“Even for me?” he intoned, his deep voice as intense as a caress. “I do know how to have a good time, despite what you think.”

Lucy’s bravado spiked. “Really?”

He inhaled heavily. “What is it you want, Dr. Monero?”

The million-dollar question. Bravado was fine when it wasn’t challenged. But under scrutiny, Lucy quickly became unsettled. “I’m not... I don’t...”

“You want something. Is it me?” he asked bluntly. “Is that what you want?”

Color smacked her cheeks. “I just want—”

“Why?” he asked, cutting her off. “Why me? You could have anyone you—”

“Chemistry,” she said quickly, dying inside. “Attraction.”

“Sex?”

Lucy stilled. She didn’t want to think her reaction to him was merely physical. But since she did find him more attractive than she’d ever found any other man, perhaps she was blinded by those feelings? Maybe her daydreams about getting to know him, being around him and spending time with him were exactly that. Dreams. And foolish remnants of an old teenaged infatuation. She’d spent college and medical school wrapped in a bubble—wary of involvement with anyone because of what had happened to her roommate. But once she was back in Cedar River—more confident and older and able to meet his gaze head-on—Lucy had believed she would somehow be able to capture his attention.