Split(51)

I clear my throat. “Have you eaten?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Okay, tough guy.” I grab his hand and for a second he tries to pull away, but I refuse to let go. “Come on, let me feed you. Then I’ll take you home.”

He seems conflicted, but I ignore it, hoping it’s not me he’s conflicted about but that it’s this situation he’s unsure how to handle. I drag him through the door and he freezes.

“Something’s burning.” He pushes past me and races toward the kitchen. A few tendrils of smoke slither from the oven.

“Aw, crap.”

He grabs a dishtowel and drops the oven door, pulling out a blackened pizza and dropping it into the sink. With a flick of his wrist, he turns on the water and I move around, opening all the windows, hoping to air it out before the smoke detector alerts the entire mountain to the fact that I’m a crappy cook.

He coughs a couple times and continues to fan the smoke toward the open window.

I use a dishtowel to do the same, as if I’m sending smoke signals for takeout. “I hope you like your pizza thin and crispy with extra cheese.”

“And charcoal.”

My jaw drops and I prop my hands on my hips. “My goodness, Lucas . . . did you just make a joke?”

His lips twitch and he shakes his head. “No. I was being serious.”

Even his barely-there smile makes my stomach flip.

I fake gasp and point at him grinning. “Two jokes!”

He shuts off the water and tosses the towel on the counter, then turns, leans against it, and crosses his arms across his chest. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen him act comfortable, almost confident. “Now what?”

I chew on the inside of my mouth to hold back my smile. “Hmmm . . . I suppose since it’s your job to make sure I’m taken care of we better grab some food.”

He drops his arms and shifts on his feet. “Oh, like . . . out?”

“You afraid to be seen in public with me or something?” Not that I’d blame him. “The rumors will fly, and the gossip circles will buzz, not to mention it’ll give Sam a reason to hate me even more—”

“Your friend Sam?”

Oh shit. “Uh . . .” I wave him off, saving the Sam story for later, fearing it’ll spook him. “Better yet, let’s hit a drive-through and take it back to your place.”

His eyes grow wide.

“I’ve gotta drop you off anyway, right? It’s a nice night; we’ll eat in the truck by the river. It’ll be fun. That way I don’t even have to change my clothes.” I wink and head back to my room to grab my boots and my wallet before he can protest.

I can’t explain this overpowering need to be with Lucas. The more I learn about him, the hungrier I am to know more. In so many ways we’re nothing alike, but in all the ways that matter we are. He’s complex, has the potential to be dangerous, and I’m putting myself in his path no matter how many times he pushes me away. There’s also my draw to protect him. The strange pull that makes me want to follow him around and keep him safe. I blame it on the sexy vulnerability he possesses, the mysterious brooding that calls to a woman’s need to soothe and heal.

Then there’s Gage.

A man I know little about other than the fact that he’s volatile. If I want to spend time with Lucas, I’ll need to tread lightly to avoid triggering Gage. That means I’ll have to keep my distance, work on being friends until Lucas trusts me enough to let me in.

Patience has never been my strong suit, but I’m willing to give it a shot.





LUCAS


“Burgers, Mexican, or . . . burgers?” We’re at a red light and Shyann’s leaning forward over her steering wheel to peek at all the fast-food places that converge at the main intersection in town. “Oh, there’s Chinese, but Chinese drive-through?” She purses her lips. “Seems fishy if you ask me. Amazing how many places have popped up since I lived here.” Her eyes meet mine and even in the dim light of the truck cab they practically sparkle. “Preference?”

“No.” The angry roll in my stomach would prefer peanut butter sandwiches, but I keep my mouth shut. She knows about Gage and invited me into her house, made plans for us to have dinner together alone, and friendship. She offered me friendship. I’ll eat whatever she wants to keep from screwing this up.

The light turns green.

“Burgers it is. This place has the best double cheeseburgers in town.” She pulls her truck up to a building I’ve seen before. Bright red and blue sign and the parking lot has spaces where you can get service in your car by a girl on roller skates. She moves past all those and to the drive-through. “What looks good?”

I stare at the menu but see nothing. Fear of trying something new pricks at my nerves, and although I know I’ll most likely be fine, I fear choosing something that will make me sick. “Whatever you’re having. Please.”

She studies me for a second through narrowed eyes until the speaker crackles and a static voice comes through. “Welcome to Sonic. Can I take your order?”

Shyann leans out the window and my eyes immediately trace the outline of her small waist as it flares into feminine hips. Her shirt slides up a little to expose a slice of olive skin that’s flawless and probably soft to the touch.