30. Leo
Leo
Itry to swallow, but I almost choke on my tongue.
Holy fuck.
Lucy looks incredible. Beautiful. Breathtaking. Gorgeous. Beyond gorgeous.
“H-hey,” I manage when my brain finally remembers how to formulate words.
I’ve seen pretty women lots of times before. None of them holds a candle to how stunning Lucy looks right now.
I’ve always thought she was beautiful.
But seeing her dressed up in this glamorous way has short-circuited my brain.
“You look good,” I murmur.
She bites back a shy smile. Anna, Poppy, and Briar chuckle as they stand off to the side and look between Lucy and me.
I let out an embarrassed laugh and roll my eyes at myself. Good. Is that seriously the best I could come up with? Way to go, dumbass.
“Sorry, I meant to say that you look so beautiful. Wow.”
I’m sure I look like a creep with how I keep looking at her body, but I can’t help it. I can’t take my eyes off of her.
“Thanks,” she says softly, a pretty pink blush painting her full cheeks. “You look really handsome in that tux.”
I smile. “Really?”
“Yeah. Like a young James Bond.”
Her eyes are glittery as she looks me up and down. A smug feeling bursts through me. Knowing that Lucy thinks I look good is the best compliment. Especially since I feel uncomfortable as fuck in this suit. And really stiff. I hate dressing up.
But I’d happily wear this tux every single day to hear her compliment me—to see her look at me with that hungry flicker in her sapphire eyes.
“Let’s get a picture of you guys,” Anna says.
She grabs Lucy’s phone and tells us to stand closer together.
“Put your arm around her, Leo. Act like you like her,” Anna teases.
I slide my arm around Lucy’s waist and pull her next to me. When I breathe in, I get a whiff of her perfume. Something sweet and light and flowery and a little citrusy. Oh, fuck. She smells so good.
Anna hands Lucy her phone back, and we head out.
I offer her my arm as we walk down the staircase to the front of the building.
“Thanks,” Lucy says through a cute laugh. “I’m not used to wearing heels this high.”
She must be wearing sky-high shoes because her head is just under my chin. She’s usually barely at my shoulder in her sneakers.
I open the passenger door of my car for her and hold her hand as I help her in. When I hop into the driver’s seat, she’s looking at me, concern flashing in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m great.” My gaze lands on her lush lips. My mouth waters with the urge to nibble softly on her plump bottom lip…
“I was just hoping you weren’t too stressed about seeing your dad tonight.”
“Oh. That.” I was so distracted by how hot Lucy looked that for a second, I forgot what we were doing.
“I’ll be okay. I’m feeling better now that you’re going with me.”
The worry fades from her gorgeous eyes. She reaches over and gives my arm a soft squeeze. “I’m your emotional support buddy this whole night.”
I turn on the engine and drive off, feeling a million times better about tonight because Lucy is by my side.
Twenty minutes later, I pull up to a luxury hotel in downtown Denver.
I hop out, then round the front of the car to get the door for Lucy. I grab her hand and help her out, then hand my keys to the valet.
We walk through the entrance of the hotel, her small arm looped in mine. A happy feeling blooms through my chest. I like it when she’s touching me. When she’s standing this close to me.
Easy, dude. This isn’t a date. She’s your friend who was nice enough to be your emotional support tonight.
I refocus and try not to think about just how attracted I am to her…how much I want her.
Lucy gazes around, her eyes big as she takes in the modern decor of the lobby. Every surface is pearly white and shiny, like they polish and clean it constantly.
She stares at an Art Deco sculpture in the middle of the massive space. It looks like a giant white boulder that’s been smoothed out, with a trio of holes carved into it. It sits on top of a shiny wooden block that’s almost as big as the sculpture itself.
“Is that wooden stand part of the art piece or…just a stand?” she asks.
I laugh. “I have no idea.”
We walk into the ballroom where the charity event is being held.
“Oh wow. This is fancy,” Lucy says while looking at the floral centerpieces on the tables. “Look at all those peonies and roses.”
I glance over. “Is that what those fluffy flowers are called?”
She chuckles. “Yeah. Not a big flower guy?”
I shake my head. “They all kind of look the same to me.”
“Seriously?” She laughs.
“I mean, they’re pretty, I guess. I just don’t really pay attention.”
We weave around the tables in the direction of the bar, which is at the far end of the ballroom. A few people are in line to get drinks, so we get behind them.
Lucy looks up at me with an adorable amused smile.
“Well, here are a few flower tips for you. Roses are classic. They’re pretty, available in lots of colors, and you can get them anywhere.
They’re a little cliché, but that’s not a bad thing.
Almost everyone likes roses. Peonies are a little more unique.
And harder to find. And a more expensive.
If someone gets you peonies, you know they like you. ”
I smile at her explanation. We walk up to the bartender, and I turn to Lucy. “What would you like to drink?” I ask her.
“Could I have a glass of champagne, please?”
“Certainly, miss.” He turns to me. “And what can I get you?”
“Could I get a club soda with lime?”
He turns away to pour our drinks. He hands us our glasses. We thank him, and I drop cash in the glass tip jar on the bartop.
We walk over to a standing table near the corner. Lucy takes a sip of her champagne. She closes her eyes and hums. “Mmm bubbles.”
I grin at how happy she looks.
“So peonies are your favorite flower then?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “They’re pretty. If someone got me a bouquet of peonies, I’d be so happy. But Gerbera daisies are my favorite.”
“What are those?”
“Oh my gosh, you really are clueless, aren’t you?”
I can’t help but smile at her teasing tone. I shrug. “I’m more into hockey than flowers.”
She grins. “Fair. Okay, so Gerbera daisies are just bigger daisies. They’re really colorful too.” She goes quiet for a second. “They were my mom’s favorite flowers.”
My chest aches at the sad look in her eyes. But then she smiles softly, like she’s remembering something.
“My dad used to get her a bouquet of Gerbera daisies in every color for their anniversary.”
“That’s really thoughtful,” I say.
“He planted some in our front yard as a surprise for their anniversary one year…” Her eyes glisten as she looks down at her champagne glass. “That was right before he got sick.”
That ache in my chest deepens.
“After he died, whenever I missed him, I’d tend to the flowers he planted.
I’d water them and pull out all the weeds.
I’d make sure they looked as good as possible.
And for a little while, I’d feel a little better because doing that helped me feel closer to him.
” She’s quiet for a long moment. “The last time I went back to the house, all the flowers were dead.”
Her eyes fill with tears, but she quickly blinks them away.
It feels like I’ve been kicked in the gut. Fuck, I hate seeing her in pain.
I have the sudden urge to run out and buy her a million Gerbera daisies in every color.
I’m aching to hold her, to hug her close to me, to comfort her…but I stop myself. That feels like crossing a line. We’re friends, but…we don’t really do that.
So I just gently take her hand in mine and give her a gentle squeeze, silently wishing I could do something to take her pain away.
“I am so sorry, Luce.”
She sniffles and shrugs. “With my stepdad living there and in charge of everything, I should have known he’d let the flowers die. The outside of the house looks pretty rough too. A few of the siding panels are falling off. And the lawn is overrun with weeds.”
I think about how Lucy mentioned that her dad loved working on the lawn. It must be heartbreaking to see it in that condition.
“Wait, your stepdad let you come visit?”
She shakes her head. “He dumped a bunch of my parents’ stuff on the curb and called me to come get it before the garbage truck came.”
My jaw unhinges in shock. What the fuck is the matter with this guy?
“Jesus,” I mutter. “This guy is a psycho.”
“He definitely gives off that vibe,” she says.
“What do you mean?”
She hesitates for a moment. “A couple times, I tried to come to the house and get my mom and dad’s things, but he threatened me. Said he’d kill me if I stepped foot on his property again without his permission.”
Rage pumps through my veins like hot lava. “What the fuck?”
Lucy holds up her phone and shows me a text chain between her and her stepdad. When I read the words, “I’ll fucking kill you,” I ball my hands into fists at my sides. This guy is threatening her like some unhinged maniac.
I grit my teeth. I can’t believe he’s outright threatening her.
“It’s fucked up that your stepdad was able to keep the house,” I mutter. “It belongs to you.”
She shakes her head. “He was married to my mom. When she died, legally, he was able to take control of everything. There wasn’t anything I could do.”
“Yeah, but the right thing to do would be to let you have the house,” I say.
“I wouldn’t count on Richard to do the right thing, ever,” she says in a defeated tone. “I mean, look at how he treated my mom. Look at how he kicked me out of the house after she died. Look at what he tried to do to Wally.”
I’m hot with rage when I think about what motherfucker did. He kicked his own stepdaughter out of a house that rightfully belonged to her, not him. He tried to kill her dog.
“Honestly, if he would just let me back in the house so I could get the rest of my parents’ things, that would be enough,” she says. “I could move on and forget about the rest if I at least had that.”
I shake my head and swallow back the outrage simmering inside of me. That piece of shit won’t even give her back her parents’ belongings.
I'm aching to fucking destroy that guy.
She pulls out her phone and taps the screen. “All I have are just a few pictures now.”
She shows me a photo of the front of a small, brick, ranch-style house with daisies in every color next to the porch.
“977 Pickett Street,” she says in a soft voice. “The best street in the whole wide world because my Lucy girl lives there.” A sad smile pulls at her lips. “My dad used to say that when I was little to help me remember our address.”
My chest throbs. “That’s really cute,” I say.
And then I feel like an asshole because I wish there was something more I could do or say to help her.
I hold Lucy’s gaze. “We’re gonna make this right for you, Lucy. We’ll figure out a way.”
Emotion flashes in her eyes. “It’s okay, Leo. You’ve done enough for me. You don’t need to do anything more. Especially not when it comes to Richard. He’s a loose cannon with a crazy temper, and I don’t…”
She trails off when I shake my head. “He’s not getting away with this. We’re gonna figure out a way to get it all back for you. I promise.”
I have no idea how. But I can’t ignore that urgency pulsing through me like adrenaline. Lucy has been through so much. She deserves this. And I’m going to help her get it.