Liz Talley - His Brown-Eyed Girl

But how much longer would he remain behind bars? She inhaled and exhaled, knowing she had no control over when Robbie Guidry would be released from prison.

Lucas approached her as if she were made of glass. She willed her thoughts to settle.

“You okay?”

“Of course, I am. Busy morning at the shop.” She hated lying but didn’t want to talk about her life. About how she’d been a victim. That was her past.

“No, I don’t think so. Something’s wrong.”

“Not really. Just have a lot on my mind.”

“What do you have on your mind?” His question wasn’t soft. He pried into her thoughts and she didn’t want him there.

“Nothing you need to worry about. Let me change and then we’ll get started.” Addy pulled her purse out of the car, pausing to slide the cell phone out of a side pocket. She’d texted her father to let him know she’d talked with Lieutenant Andre yesterday, but he hadn’t replied. But then again he didn’t check text messages often—they seemed beyond him. She didn’t want to call because then her mother would know something was up, and Addy hated when her mother worried. Maybe she would drive out to New Orleans East to corner her father and share what Andre had told her.

Addy’s father was her go-to man. When she’d first received an anonymous drawing of a single brown-eyed Susan, she’d reported it, but with no evidence the drawing came from Guidry, there was nothing to be done. Still, Don Toussant kept track of the evidence and haunted the parole hearings making sure Guidry didn’t get out until he paid his entire twenty-five-year sentence for assault with a deadly weapon, attempted rape and attempted murder. They were a team...a team who couldn’t do much but wait.

Addy dragged her gaze to Lucas, whose dark eyes weighed and measured her.

“Something’s off with you, Addy. You seem...scared. Did something happen—”

She pushed by him. “My life is none of your concern. I don’t like people shoving their nose in my business. I said I was okay, so leave it.”

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Defensive.”

She yanked her keys from her purse as she turned toward him. The anger pressed beneath the fear slipped out. “Maybe I am defensive, but I didn’t invite you to examine me. I didn’t even invite you to fix my greenhouse. You’re the one who insisted. I said I would help you with the kids because I’m trying to be a good neighbor to Ben and Courtney. That’s all I offered and there is no reason for you to think you can dig into my past, looking for a reason I don’t want to talk about my day with a stranger.”

Lucas didn’t say anything. Merely studied her more intently.

Something about the way he looked at her made her want to apologize. He’d tried to help and she’d been a bitch. Then again, guys trying to help, not taking no for an answer and buddying up to a woman who hadn’t opened the door either literally or figuratively—all were indicators of a man being potentially harmful. Even so, she knew in her bones, Lucas wasn’t harmful to her. At least not in that way.

“Look, I know you’re trying to be nice, but I’m good. Okay? I’ll change, we’ll fix the greenhouse and then we’ll talk about how I can help with the kids.”

Lucas nodded. “I didn’t mean to pry. Guess I thought I was being neighborly.”

“But you’re not my neighbor.”

Something flashed in his eyes and she knew she’d pissed him off a little with that one. “Good point.”

Then he walked away from her. Just like she wanted.

Chapter Five

ADDY’S WORDS HAD surprisingly hurt him. They shouldn’t have. He didn’t know her beyond a couple of hours spent together. But somehow meeting her defensiveness when he’d tried to be helpful, tried to nurture a stable relationship with the only rational nearby adult, made him feel less than what he was.

He was honorable, damn it. And no one had ever called him nosy.

Aunt Flora bumbled out the back door and gathered the children, directing Michael and Chris to unload pots out of Addy’s car and giving Charlotte a spoon for worm digging. The three-year-old made a strange face, but allowed the older woman to lead her to the compost pile in the corner of the yard.

For a moment, Lucas fought feeling inferior. What the hell was wrong with him anyway? He was a man who rarely cared what others thought of him, a man who rarely cared if he pleased others.

But he knew one thing—Addy’s past had made her fearful.

The phone attached to his belt rang, and Lucas glanced at the screen. He was waiting on his manager at the Manhattan gallery to call about some pieces for a renovation. But it wasn’t Gerald. It was Courtney.

Dread knotted in his stomach.

Was she calling merely to check on the kids or had his brother worsened?

“Hey,” he said, as Addy reemerged from the house still wearing the dark dress and casting an apologetic glance at him. Something moved within him at that look in her eyes. Something weak. He turned away.

“Hey,” Courtney said, her voice weary...almost defeated. “Thought I better call and check on the kids while I had a chance. They’re changing Ben’s bedding and I’m in the waiting room.”

“The kids are fine.”

“Are they? I’ve been worried. I left without saying goodbye.”

“Wasn’t ideal.” He’d arrived early Monday morning. Courtney had taken a cab to the airport minutes later, leaving him with sleeping kids and a page of instructions that didn’t cover jack.

“No, it wasn’t but it was the best way.”

“Not sure about that, but you can smooth things over a bit if you tell the kids about Ben’s condition. It would be easier—”

“On you?” Her voice also held anger. “All I asked was for you to be their caretaker. That’s it. I’m truly grateful, but I can’t tell them their father may be dying over the phone, Luke.”

He hadn’t been called Luke in many years and the sound of his name on her lips confused him. On one hand it swept him back to a time when he’d loved hearing her say his name, and on the other hand, it caused the anger of betrayal to eat away at any pleasure left in hearing her voice. “And I complied, Courtney, but I’m a stranger. Not knowing what’s going on makes it harder on them. Not me. Them.”

Michael came around the corner of the house followed by Flora. He caught sight of Lucas on his phone and some kind of internal homing signal went off and the boy started walking toward where Lucas had slipped into the shadows.

“Hey, is that my mom?” Michael asked.

Courtney dropped a curse word. “Tell him no. Please, I’m not ready to talk to him about Ben.”

Lucas pulled the phone from his ear and turned to head off Michael. “This is my call and you’re being rude interrupting it.”

Michael’s chest expanded in outrage. “If that’s my mother, I have a right to talk to her. It’s her, isn’t it? Let me have the phone.”

Lucas shook his head and pointed toward where Chris held a stack of planters. Addy appeared, her forehead crinkled in concern. Chris watched his brother, mouth slightly open, anticipation of the confrontation in his eyes. Charlotte happily dug in the compost heap looking for worms, which she promptly dumped into a can sitting beside her. The girl didn’t seem to know there was anything else in the world except fat, squiggly earthworms that probably both fascinated and repelled her.

“Go help Addy’s aunt with the wheelbarrow.” When Michael didn’t budge, Lucas added, “Now.”

“This is bullshit. If that’s my mom, I want to talk to her. She won’t text me or call me. Her. Not you.”

Courtney said with a sigh, “Give him the phone.”

Lucas didn’t want to concede to Michael. He’d read in one of the parenting magazines consistency was the solution to many behavior problems in children of all ages. He wanted to stand firm on telling Michael no, but he wasn’t the kid’s parent. Courtney was, and maybe she’d finally tell the boy about his father’s condition.