The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(34)

“Lust! That’s all we have. We scratch each other’s itches, but we’re toxic to each other.”

“Whoa! Hold the hell up here. I thought what we’ve been sharing has been pretty damn good. How in the hell did we go from having fun and enjoying each other to being toxic?”

“We run in different circles!”

“Whatever, Cooper. You’re going to have to come up with one better than that.”

“How about the fact that you keep dragging me around people who hate me? People I hate? People who did their best to destroy me years ago? I don’t want to be in that circle again for any reason, Gray!” I yell, close to breaking down and telling him exactly what he’s asking of me. “Not even for you.” I whisper that last part, the part that hurts the most. I’m weak and I know it, but I can’t handle being around the Rivertons or anyone in their circle. My sense of self-preservation tells me I can’t… even for Gray.

“I see.”

“I like you, Gray, I really do. But…”

“But?”

“We’re just too different.”

“I don’t think we are at all. I think if you took the time to go meet my family, you’d see that, CC. I think that if you cared even a little bit about me, you’d at least f*cking try,” he growls, and this time it’s he who turns away. Funny how that seems to be the last thing I want after this conversation.

“I do care about you,” I argue and mean it. I think part of me is already in love with him. Or at least I think that’s what it is. I’ve never really seen or had that in my life enough to recognize it.

“Then prove it.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” he challenges.

That’s when I see it: the hurt in his eyes, the hurt I put there. The weight of that crushes down on me and I almost feel like I’m suffocating.

“It’s the same thing!” I lash out in regret, needing to get away because suddenly I can’t breathe.

“I never figured you for a woman without a backbone, Claudia Cooper. It’s good I found it out now, I guess. Maybe I’ll see you around,” Gray says, and those words combined with the tone of his voice make me jerk my head up to look at him.

“Gray, it doesn’t have to be this way. We can keep having fun. We can—”

“What? Keep f*cking? Oddly enough, Cooper, I don’t want that from you. For the first time in my life, I can honestly say that’s not even close to what I want,” he says disgustedly.

He looks like a stranger. He barely spares me a glance before he turns around and walks out the door. I’m left standing there wondering how we got here. In the last two days, he’s joked about me meeting his family, and yeah he told me that he had made all the reservations to leave today, but I never realized he was completely serious about taking me with him. Other than mentioning it to Cammie and her father, he’s never once asked me. And now… we’ve gone from laughing and playing, making love every night to… this.

I head out the door and go to my car. I start it up and, on autopilot, I head to the garage. I don’t want to think about it anymore because this feels like I just broke up with Gray Lucas. I’m not ready to face that just yet. I may never be.





Three Days Later



“Grayson Lucas, you’ve been moping around here since you got back. What the hell is going on with you?”

My mother’s tone is one I’ve learned I shouldn’t ignore. It means she’s getting desperate, and when Ida Sue “Love” Lucas gets desperate, chaos ensues. Still, I can’t seem to drum up enough energy to care. Everything just seems… flat, lifeless, and colorless since I left CC’s home three days ago. God, I miss her. Me, missing a woman? It would be the world’s biggest joke except there’s nothing funny about how I’m feeling. There’s nothing to find humor in when I picture the rest of my life without CC in it. The woman has ruined me.

“Answer your mother when she speaks to you,” Cyan says, slapping me up the side of my head.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Anytime, Mama,” Cyan answers, dodging my halfhearted attempt to swat him back.

“Asshole,” I mutter, partly because he’s annoying me, but mostly because he’s the biggest mama’s boy on the face of the planet.

“Grayson Lucas, you stop that or I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.”

I roll my eyes, though I do it where I’m sure Mom can’t see me. The truth is, she says worse than us boys ever thought of—and that’s saying a lot. She however, can’t stand it for her kids to say the same words in front of her.

“Yes, Mama,” I answer, looking out over the yard in front of the large farmhouse I was raised in. It’s a large three-story home which has been completely updated, much to Mother’s dismay. The boys and I got together while Mom was on vacation and completely renovated the place, giving her all the latest appliances and conveniences. Most mothers would have loved it; ours complained we ruined the charm of the place, though I notice she doesn’t complain that the washroom is now downstairs with her bedroom and large master bath.

There’s a large wraparound porch that completely encircles the home—a fact my nephews, when they’re around love and make complete use of. It’s white with red trim and has a bright red tin roof. The yard is encased with matching red trim and it’s quite beautiful when you pull up and see it, but that’s not why I love this place and always will; it’s the memories. Even when we didn’t have two nickels to rub together, this place was the most magical place on Earth. No matter what has happened in my life, being home always had a way of healing me and making things better.