Chapter 8
Eight
I’m three tumblers of whiskey in by the time the party clears from the house. I’ve never been more thankful for soundproofing. I’m barely able to hear anything when the thumping music cuts off in the living room.
So when my office door swings open while I’m standing at my minibar, pouring myself a fourth drink, it startles the shit out of me.
Lucy rushes in and slams the door behind her, stepping back to glare at it as she breathes heavily and wipes at her eyes. I’m too shocked to say anything, and she clearly doesn’t notice I’m in the room.
Rhys pounds on the door. “Lucy! Talk to me!” His voice is muffled, but I can still make out his words.
“There’s nothing to fucking talk about, you jackass!” With a rage-filled cry, Lucy turns away and pulls Rhys’ jersey over her head, leaving her in nothing but a bra and underwear as she stomps toward my desk.
Objectively, I know I should have announced myself the second she began to remove the jersey. But watching her expose a vast expanse of skin stuns me into silence.
Grabbing the scissors from a drawer, she begins to slice the blades through the fabric while muttering curses under her breath about my son being a lying, cheating bastard.
“Lucy, baby, let’s talk about this, okay? I know I fucked up. I’m so sorry,” Rhys’ tone is strained and frantic on the other side of the door, but she ignores him and continues shredding the black and green material.
I knew something was going on with the blonde.
Afraid Lucy might hurt herself, I say her name softly, trying not to startle her.
She jumps anyway, spinning to stare at me with wide, teary eyes. Her raspberry-painted lips are formed in a surprised O. “Lawson? What are you doing in here?”
Trying my damnedest to keep my focus on her face and not let it wander down her exposed body, I swallow the lump in my throat before replying, “I could ask you the same thing.” My voice comes out huskier than I meant it to, and I clear my throat in an attempt to make it go back to normal.
“Well…” She slams the scissors and what's left of the jersey onto the surface of my desk. “…I just caught my boyfriend fucking another girl.” A fresh wave of tears spills from her eyes as her bottom lip begins to quiver. “I’m sorry. I was going to lock myself in River’s room, but Rhys caught up before I could make it that far.
” She grabs her elbows, unwittingly pushing her breasts together, as she drops her eyes to the floor.
My son’s pounding has ceased, and I see my cell light up on my desk. It’s most likely him asking if I’m in here with her since we’re talking too quietly to hear anything on his side.
“Fuck, Lucy. I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” she bites out, gaze snapping up to mine as it fills with rage. “Because you apparently saw them together tonight but didn’t say anything.”
The ire in her eyes fills me with shame, but I shake my head and scratch my neck. “It’s not my business.”
“You should have said something!” she shouts before pointing at me. “You know what this feels like!”
My chest seizes, and I hold up my hands in surrender. “You’re right.” The admission cools the steam pouring from her, and she deflates. Instead of telling her I tried watching for her arrival all night, I murmur, “I’m sorry.”
Silence extends between us for a few moments before she rubs her forehead with obvious frustration. “No. I’m sorry. It’s not like you could have done anything.”
“I didn’t know… for certain if something was happening,” I offer lamely.
While Lucy’s not paying attention to me, I allow my eyes to drift down her body, taking in every curve and dip that I’ve spent the last few weeks fantasizing about exploring and trying to commit it to memory like a creep because I’ll never see her in this state again.
“I should… uh… go get you some clothes.”
Realization dawns over her pretty features as she looks down at herself and shrugs her shoulders. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bathing suit.” Then, in a quieter tone, she mutters, “Or completely naked, for that matter.”
A cough escapes my throat, and I have to pound on my chest a few times to dislodge the bitter taste of the sarcasm in her words .
No, this is nothing like her lounging in her high-waisted bikinis by the pool.
And it’s somehow more intimate than her being bare.
This is… this is lust-filled fantasies about centerfold models.
This is pure art in the form of black and royal purple lingerie that hugs her curves and has my cock so rock hard I could balance my body weight on it.
There’s silk and lace and artistically placed appliques that hide her nipples, and I want to tear them from her body with my teeth.
I swallow another lump when she tenses her thighs, and my eyes snap back to her face to find her cheeks red as cherries. She’s watching me take her in.
And she likes it.
“Here, put this on.” I make quick work of the buttons on my shirt, handing it over without meeting her eyes. In a near panic, I cross the room to swipe my tumbler from the minibar and down the whiskey in one gulp.
Her voice is small, almost meek, when she speaks again. “I’m done.”
When I turn back to her…
Holy fuck.
Somehow, all that lace and silk is a thousand times hotter beneath the open white button-down. It hits her thighs, the sleeves falling past her hands, and a tempting smile is plastered over her face as she rolls them up. “Can I have one of those?”
I follow her gaze to my empty glass and huff a laugh, even as I move around the bar to grab another one. “I thought you were never drinking hard liquor again?”
“It’s the amber-colored ones that get me. Do you have any tequila?” Lucy asks in a tone that implies she already knows I do.
As I contemplate asking if she’s going to button up the shirt, she sits on the camel-colored leather couch, and it’s clear that the answer is no. The damn lump I can’t seem to get rid of grows larger. I swear I’m going to have to go to the doctor soon to see if it’s a condition I can get rid of.
Rhys begins pounding on the door again as he releases a string of curses that are barely audible through the heavy wood, and I feel the weight of the situation on my shoulders. “I’m going to tell him to let you cool off for a bit.”
Lucy snorts, shoving her fingers through her messy waves. “I don’t care what you tell him. I don’t want to talk to him.”
With a sigh, I turn the lock and crack the door open, bracing myself on the frame to prevent Rhys from bulldozing his way inside. His eyes grow wide with shock, his cheeks burning cherry red as he looks over my shoulder and sees Lucy sitting on the couch in my dress shirt.
“What the fuck?!” he shouts, trying to muscle his way past me.
I push him back gently. “Calm down. I think you both need a breather.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?! Lucy, get the fuck out here and talk to me.”
“Hey!” I snap. “You don’t get to fuck around on her and then talk to her that way.” I dig a finger into his chest. “ You fucked up, Rhys. She didn’t do anything.”
His eyes soften, chest deflating a little as he scrubs at his face. “Lucy, baby, I’m sorry. Please talk to me.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” I peer over my shoulder to see her glaring at him, my shirt falling open to reveal her near nakedness.
Rhys’ nostrils flare as he takes in her appearance. “Put some fucking clothes on when you’re around him!”
He tries to muscle his way past me again, but I shove him back once more and hide her from his view with my body.
“Of course, you’d take her fucking side. Look at her, prancing around in front of you in her lingerie. Bet you’re just loving this, aren’t you, Dad ?” he sneers.
Instead of anger, a wave of sadness crests against my chest. “No, Son. I’m honestly not. I expected better from you. In fact, I’m disappointed.”
He shoves his tongue in his cheek before slamming his fist against the wall.
“Fuck you!” he shouts as he leans into my personal space before stomping down the hall, swiping at a family photo.
It falls and shatters, but he doesn’t stop.
I wait until he disappears from sight before I turn and close the door, locking it in case he tries to get in again.
Silence fills the room as I turn to the minibar. There’s less Patrón in the clear bottle than I remember having, and I wonder if Lucy sipped on it while she organized what used to be my disaster of a desk. “I’m assuming you got dropped off?”
“Yeah,” she states softly while playing with the hem of my shirt.
Nestling into the corner of the couch, she tucks her legs beneath her and pulls them in tightly, leaving her thighs uncovered and flashing the barest hint of purple silk underwear.
“My phone is in my purse in the hall, so I was going to wait a while before calling someone to come get me. ”
“I really am sorry, Lucy.” I hand her the drink and move to sit on the other end of the couch.
Before I can even get settled, she throws the tequila back in one swallow, even though there are at least three shots in the glass.
“Whoa, there. Slow down, rainbow.” I accidentally let the affectionate nickname I’ve never uttered out loud slip past my lips.
Her eyes meet mine over the rim of her glass. “Rainbow?” Her cheeks turn a shade of pink that highlights her hazel eyes.
I drain my glass, feeling the burn brewing in my own cheeks.
Either from the whiskey or embarrassment—or both—I don’t know.
Getting to my feet quickly, I take our glasses and pour us both another drink, offering an explanation with my back turned away from her.
“You’re always wearing bright colors. Like a rainbow. ”
You sound so fucking stupid, Lawson.
When I turn back around, a small smile parts her plump raspberry lips, and I can’t help but imagine how they taste. Or how they’d look wrapped around a part of me that is starting to become very partial to her.
You’re a bad man. You’re a bad father.
“I like it,” Lucy whispers.