Chapter 28 – Vivian
I wasn’t sure what possessed me to volunteer. But here I was, sitting shotgun in the ridiculous yellow Wrangler as Luka sped down the road. I wanted to ask him about her. It wasn’t like having a girlfriend in the background. This was a whole different level.
A wife.
Someone he cared about enough to marry. Absently, I rubbed my ring finger. Was it the same situation? Him helping her? Protecting her? Or was their marriage real? That question twisted something deep inside.
And I ended up chickening out. I couldn’t ask the questions I really wanted to, so instead I forced my mind to change the subject.
“You’re going to get a ticket,” I drawled.
“Nah, there isn’t a cop for the next two miles.” Luka cut me a look, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“What?” I brushed my hand over my unruly curls. The cracked windows created an air tunnel, and my hair felt the urge to fly wild.
“Here.” Luka handed me a black, drawstring pouch. As I took them, he teased, “Oh, better not touch me, darlin.”
I gave him a flat look. But as I pulled the contents of the bag out, and whatever sassy comeback I might have conjured flickered out. “What are these?”
The lenses on the glasses were tinted a rosy pink that was flirting with light orange.
“Migraine shades. They help with flickering light, especially in office buildings.” Luka tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading.”
An overwhelming emotion swelled in my chest. I rubbed my sternum, rolling the glasses over and over.
“They might just be gimmicky, but you’ll look pretty damn cool,” he added with a wink before taking a sharp turn.
I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to sound normal. “Thank you, Luka.”
He nodded. “That’s got to suck to have plans for the day and suddenly everything is put on hold. There are some other treatments that can help, if you’re interested. Or—” he let out a short, humorless laugh “—you can tell me to go to hell and leave it alone. You’re good at that.”
“No one has ever….” I paused, lungs scrambling to fill with a deep breath before I tried again. “No one in my life took migraines seriously.”
“How can they not?” Luka scoffed. “You couldn’t even string a sentence together in Florida.”
“Because I don’t let them see that. Would you want your cousins to know?” I countered.
Luka shook his head. “But they would understand.”
I found myself nodding along. “Your family would. Mine didn’t.” I waved my hand through the air. “It doesn’t matter. This was really amazing of you. Thank you.”
I carefully placed the shades back into the pouch and set them on my lap. It was hard to hate him; it had been for days.
The rest of the drive was spent in silence. Or mostly silence. Luka had a thing for singing to the music. His bass was captivating as he warbled to the classic rock songs. I kept my lips pressed tight and refused to sing along. My ears focused on the melodic noise, while my gaze fixated on the ink staining my finger.
He marked me as his .
Was this some Russian thing? I cut a look to him as he put the Jeep in park. No…this was a Luka thing. It was crazy, and even though I wouldn’t admit it out loud, it was hot as hell.
“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” I demanded.
Unphased by the abrupt question, he answered without hesitation. “Banna pudding.”
I gagged.
“Oh, and I suppose you like caramel brownie?” he countered, casting a long, lingering look down my body as he put the vehicle in park.
Heat prickled across my skin where he stared. I resisted the urge to fidget with the blue-green flannel sleeves tied around my hips.
“No,” I protested.
“Are you lying to me, little darlin?” He moved closer, the proximity stealing my breath.
“No,” I repeated. “I like Ben cookie dough and brownies,” I stammered.
“And the caramel sauce makes it…perfect,” he finished, voice dangerously low.
I was top of my class in law school. There was a time I faced opponents with lengthy credentials across the aisle during a case. Yet they had no intimidation factor. Not like this monster. Luka was talking about motherfucking Ben & Jerry’s, and I was struggling to hold my ground.
But maybe that was the truth. I loved the challenge that he presented.
“We should have some.” And then, I wet my lips.
His gaze darkened as it tracked the motion. “We should.”
The muscles of my core tightened. Heat seared my veins.
“How’s your finger?” he rasped, jerking his chin to where I unconsciously had been wringing my hands.
“Sore. Some asshole decided to leave his mark on it.” I relaxed my hold, realizing that my finger did ache. I would need to clean it up, make sure the damn thing didn’t get infected, even though the name was so small.
“What an ass,” Luka smirked. “Give me a name, darlin, and I’ll go kick his ass.”
“Do that,” I quipped. “He could stand being taken down a peg or two.”
The door cracked open, and I began to exit the vehicle. I needed to escape the suffocating atmosphere before I did something truly ridiculous.
Like climb onto his lap and make out in the driver’s seat like a couple of horny teens.
A hand snaked out and blocked my exit. Luka was stretched over my seat, invading my space but not touching me. “I will always make those who hurt you pay, Vivian.”
Wow…. That had to be the most intense thing anyone had ever said to me.
While my insides melted and gushed over his declaration, my brain fired off a series of rebuttals, including a lengthy lecture that sane men did not say things like that.
“Come on, we’d better go.” Luka pulled back, taking the oxygen with him. “Weston gets cranky when kept waiting.”
Weston? “Van Greene?” I barreled from the Jeep, looking at the downtown office buildings. Sure as could be, we were in front of Cath, Greene, and Stone.