How (Not) to Fall in Love(70)

He took a breath and my heart beat so loudly I was sure he must hear it. His fingers stroked my back and I suddenly knew why fainting couches had been invented. His gaze roamed over my face, and I suddenly believed him. He saw me, the real me. And he thought I was beautiful. The realization was so powerful, so true, that I gasped.

He nodded as if he’d read my mind. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low, caressing. “I love you, Shaker Girl. I love the way you do what scares you. I love that nothing stops you. I love that you care so passionately about everyone.” He grinned at me. “I love how goofy you get about salt and pepper shakers. I love how you can’t control Toby.” His grin faded as he took a shaky breath. “That first day I picked you up…” He sighed. “I thought you were just a spoiled rich girl.” His expression changed, surprising me with its fierce intensity. “I had no idea how wrong I was. Or how much my life was about to change.” He rested his forehead against mine. “I’m so sorry about all you’re going through, but I’m not sorry that it brought you to me.”

What could I possibly say in response? Dude, I love your eyelashes?

I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, but a tiny part of me was afraid to jinx things, by telling him how I felt. Besides, he’d said enough for both of us.

“Lucas?”

“Mm?” he murmured, his lips inches from mine. One hand still stroked my back, the other still played with my hair.

“Is this the part where you kiss me?”

“Right,” he chuckled, just before his mouth claimed mine. “Like I’d forget that part.”

He kissed me gently at first, waiting to see how I responded. I reached up to run my fingers through his hair and it was even better than I’d imagined. His grip tightened around me and I felt the muscles in his arms flex as he deepened the kiss, his lips hungry against mine.

I tugged at his hair, pressing into him. He groaned deep in his throat and his tongue swept into my mouth, making my world tilt. Then both of his hands were underneath my sweater, his callused hands on my smooth back, making me melt against him, caressing yet insistent as his tongue plunged even deeper, making me stagger against the bar counter.

He broke the kiss and whispered in my ear, “Just so you’re clear, that wasn’t a pity kiss.”

I swallowed, struggling to find my voice. “I don’t know. I might still need some convincing.”

He laughed softly against my hair. “I’ll see what I can do.”

And he did.





Chapter Twenty-Five


November 30


Lucas spent the night.

But not with me.

He slept on the couch in the family room, after the two of us spent a couple of hours on the couch not watching the buddy movie he insisted on putting in the DVD player.

When the sunlight woke me, happiness washed over me like a river. I could hardly believe last night had happened, but when I looked out my bedroom window, his car was in the driveway.

I showered quickly and took more time getting dressed than usual. When I sat at my vanity and looked in the mirror, I grinned. Maybe I wasn’t a supermodel, but Lucas said he loved me. And he’d somehow managed to fall in love with me during the worst time of my life.

“But that’s why,” I whispered. Because somehow, all of this drama had made me blossom into someone I didn’t know I could be. I looked at the pepper shakers scattered across my dresser. It was because of them that I’d found Lucas. And Charlie and Liz. That I’d found a way to cope with everything.

Suddenly I remembered Mom passed out in her bedroom. My happy bubble popped instantly. Crap. What was going to happen with her today? Now that she didn’t have a job, what would happen to us?

I so badly wanted to rent Mrs. Sandri’s house and move, the sooner the better. The reporters wouldn’t be able to find us anymore. We’d be away from the country club witches who didn’t speak to Mom. I’d be where I now felt at home. I hoped Mom would eventually feel that way, too, about our new neighborhood.

I peeked in on Mom, who snored loudly. She wasn’t getting up anytime soon. I tiptoed in and checked the room for puke. Nada. That was a relief.

Downstairs, Lucas was already awake making us espressos. My heart swelled, seeing him shirtless and barefoot at the counter, yawning as he looked out the window. He’d fed Toby, too.

“Are you sure you can work that contraption? She’s a beast.”

He turned around, looking so sexy with his messy bed head that I thought I might melt. “Hey, Shaker Girl. Sleep well?”

I nodded. I loved the way he looked at me.

“Good. I’m glad one of us did.” He glared at Toby accusingly. “Your dog insisted on sleeping on the couch with me. He slept great but I didn’t.”

“The hazards of being a dog whisperer,” I said. “Plus, I’m not so sure he’s my dog anymore. He seems to have transferred his allegiances.”

“He was easy to win over.” He gave me his sexiest smile. “His owner took a while longer to convince.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I’m a much better actress than I realized. You had me at hello.”

He groaned. “Is that another old movie reference?”

I grinned wickedly. “You watch too many action movies. With not enough kissing.”