All or Nothing (10 page)

Then again, how could she be thinking of doing this? Playing games with Lucas was like playing Russian roulette with a bazooka. He cheated. She’d get hurt. Badly. It was stupid to consider.

But neither did she want to step back and close the door in his face.

It wouldn’t do her any good if she did, she knew. He was purposely tying her in knots. He wouldn’t let something as simple as a closed door stop him. It was why she’d answered his knock in the first place.

“If I do this and we keep this idiotic game going, how do I know you’re not going to dare me to sleep with you again?”

“Because I won’t need to.” And people thought he had no ego. “Six o’clock. Something that comes to your knees. I like your skirt, but I don’t want to share you with anyone tonight.” He leaned down to kiss her and God help her, she let him. She breathed in his scent and let his lips take the sting out of their earlier argument with a soft, gentle kiss. “Tonight, you’re all mine.”

Of course she was.

That was the problem.

Chapter Seven

To say he was stunned when she opened her door for him that night was an understatement. For reasons she wasn’t willing to think about, she’d gone to her sister and borrowed a dress fifteen minutes after Lucas left her doorstep. And asked for hair tips. Being by far the most intelligent of her sisters, Corrine had said nothing about the unbelievable request and only excused herself once to a make a low-whispered phone call to their mother, which Belinda pretended not to hear.

You could be that gracious when your date guru was able to tame your sharp hair into something resembling contemporary style. If Belinda took those moments while her sister was away to make her hands stop trembling, no one else knew it. She’d looked into her own dark eyes, devoid of the prerequisite goth-industrial shadows and saw the girl Lucas was trying so hard to unearth. And shuddered.

That image of herself shouldn’t have been there, but she wasn’t able to escape it. What the hell was she going to do if Lucas saw it? Saw that he was slipping beneath her guard somehow, reminding her who she’d been so long ago. She didn’t want to be that girl. She wanted to be the balls-to-the-wall woman she’d created out of sheer will. Why didn’t Lucas want
that
woman? Why did he have to see so far inside?

He wouldn’t for much longer, though. She’d win the bet and Lucas wouldn’t see her at all.

Which turned out to be a thought that had her sitting uncomfortably on the closed commode when her sister returned to finish the job.

“What’s wrong?” Corrine had asked when she came back in, following Belinda’s gaze to the mirror. She’d tilted her head to the side, checking the reflection for some kind of clue. It was there all right, not that Corrine would ever see it. Their two faces, so alike and so different, staring back at them. Corrine, her honey blonde hair tucked behind her ears, so put together, so seemingly content, and Belinda, framed in blackness that no amount of hairspray was going to remove. One wrong word, one ounce of truth uttered, and Belinda could have stripped that contentment away. She wasn’t dumb. She knew Corrine ached to pick up their mother’s quest to convert Belinda into a believer concerning their father’s sobriety and supposed change of heart. No one would ever guess that
Corrine
was the one deluding herself about Adam and a whole bunch of other things. Thinking she was happy to follow her husband around the world, their troupe of kids bringing up the rear. But Belinda could see it, in the eyes so like her own. Corrine had her doubts. She had dreams she’d set aside for her life. Just because no one talked about them anymore didn’t mean they didn’t hurt anymore.

“Nothing,” Belinda made herself say, her determination to win steeling her nerves. There was no use considering the truth with her family. She would never become like her mother, or even like Corrine. She’d accepted the price long ago.

Still, an hour or two later, even Belinda had to admit Corrine had outdone herself, a fact reflected in Lucas’s lit eyes. The nice, spring-style white dress with sunflowers on it and a white, wide-brimmed Easter hat Corrine assured her pulled the look together while covering the unredeemed sections of jaggedly cut hair at the back of Belinda’s head. It took forever to get the black Mark-it-All ink off her nails and cuticles, but when her sister was done, Belinda had a tolerable shade of peach polish on her newly trimmed finger- and toenails. There was some grumbling about what Belinda had been hiding under her steel-toe boots, but eventually, Corrine had soaked her skin into deep enough submission that she wouldn’t be an utter disgrace in a pair of sandals.

It was disconcerting to look in the mirror and see all the traces of the life she’d created scrubbed away. All but her hair, which was still as unforgivably black as ever, though now it was slicked away from her face into a retro flip. Either Belinda’s hairdresser had cheated her when she offered the ultimate unconventional haircut or her sister was a cosmetic genius.

And it was all worth it when Lucas smiled with true pleasure.

Which terrified her more than anything in her life.

But still, she walked out the door and let him take her hand to lead her to his car.

“So, where are you taking me, Lonnigan? And it better be good. I don’t get all girled-up for nothing, you know.” Then again, how good could it be? He’d brought the dog, of all things. Sparky panted madly from the back seat, his tail beating against the leather with a series of cracks. “You need to get him a doggy blanket. He’ll rip up your seats in no time.”

Lucas winced, leaning his car seat back further than she’d ever seen him do before. “I know.”

“Taking up low-riding or something?”

He turned his head to her briskly, but only answered with a smile. “Cruising.”

“Ah.” She pretended to understand. They didn’t speak much as he turned into the freeway. A half hour later, he pulled into the parking lot of the Pacific Beach Boardwalk as the sun started sinking behind the buildings. She stared up at the roller coaster speeding over wild curves and the carousel beyond it. There were more rides, all of them colorful, filled with kids screaming and adults laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She turned to him. “Belmont Park? There are
happy
people here, Lonnigan. Are you insane?”

“Nope. I always wanted to drag you here.”
Drag
being the operative word. He took her hand again, which she stared at for a few blank seconds. How did he do that? Just touch her and short-circuit her better judgment? “Now I have. Come on.”

Her feet had a lot less traction on the sandy blacktop than her boots would have given her. “More unrealized teenage fantasies?”

He completely missed her sarcasm because he said yes. The next thing she knew, she was sitting under an umbrella at the open court tables, Sparky tied to the leg of her cast iron chair, watching people go by while Lucas went for food. Assuming he could find anything that passed for real food here.

“Not bloody likely.” She reached down to scratch the top of the dog’s softball-shaped head. So far, she’d seen a hotdog spot, a pretzel shop, a walking ice cream vendor and a popcorn guy. She leaned forward, watching two boys with dark hair walk together to the popcorn stand, but instead of the gold fluffy stuff, they were handed long, cinnamon-and-sugar-rolled
churros
.

The boys turned together, smiles on their young faces, their dark eyes meeting hers for a brief second before their smiles fell. She stared, recognizing that look of curiosity and the onset of concern. Her heart raced, breath gone. It couldn’t be those boys. It was just another mistake. Another mirage. But still, the guilt flared and panic began to move in—

“Hope you like funnel cakes,” Lucas’s voice interrupted. She looked up at his face in relief as he placed the small tray in front of her. He tilted his head in question, looking over at the concession stand for some source of malevolence.

“I’m fine,” she made herself say, knowing the boys were gone. Besides, those boys were hardly the threat. Someday, Lucas would realize, the real source of malevolence in his life was
her
.

She looked down at the red and white paper tray, finding the twisting tubes of fried batter covered in powdered sugar and decorated with fresh sliced strawberries. Lucas handed her a fork. She shook her head at him, taking it from him with a sigh. “Exactly how long have you been fantasizing about this?”

“I think we were twelve the first time my dad brought us out here. I used to come here to run. Not so much anymore.” He gestured with his fork to the huge building behind her. “We went to The Plunge there.”

She looked over her shoulder. The building housed a giant pool, but the outside was the real source of interest for her. The entire wall was a mural, using classic art deco styles to title the building and showcase its original 1920’s construction. People were painted in soft fading colors, the styles of the bathing suits and faces matching the era.

“The coaster wasn’t working back then, though. I wanted to bring you, but—”

“My mother said no, right?”

“Actually, my dad did. He wasn’t sure he could watch all nine of us. Mom was out of town visiting her sister.”

She stared at him. “You asked your father to bring my entire family?” The mere thought of such mayhem—even now—horrified her. The boys would have been babies and the four girls were screaming nightmares back then.

Lucas shrugged. “You wouldn’t have been able to come alone.”

True. Her mother worked and she’d had full control of the younger kids. “You really are nuts.”

“It would have been worth it. Besides, you’d have liked the paintings.” He grinned and popped a strawberry in his mouth. “Eat up. You won’t like it if it gets cold.”

She did as he said, letting the sweet sugar melt on her tongue. When the food was gone, she helped him clean up and Lucas led her to the beach. They walked on the sand barefoot, his hand in hers once again. She didn’t bother telling him to ask for it. At least when he just took it, she didn’t have to feel bad about telling him no. She could just enjoy the warmth of his palm and the guilty rightness of his touch. She let her toes sink into the wet sand every time the surf receded. They even let Sparky hop along the dissolving foam, ears flapping, bark-crazed and nuts. He’d smell horrible and probably sleep all the way home, but he’d be happy.

She took off her hat as the sun sank behind the line of the horizon. It seemed silly to keep it on, since the wind played hell with everyone else’s hair. Deciding to give Lucas a thrill, she slipped her arm into the crook of his and leaned her head against his shoulder. They walked past people and pets, cyclists and volleyball players. Eventually, people were starting fires in the sand pits and most of the human traffic had moved on.

“It could always be like this.” Lucas finally broke the pleasant silence. “If we let it.”

She sighed, her vacation from reality obviously over. “No, it couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

She tried to disentangle herself, but he tightened his hold incrementally. Not a threat or a demand. It felt like an automatic reflex to keep her close. She stopped walking, hoping that would allow her some space. Lucas didn’t seem to get the point because he turned in front of her, releasing her arm only to loop both his hands behind her back and pull her flush into his hold. She had to look him in the eye while explaining this and that was never easy, even in the dark. Lucas simply saw too much, no matter how she tried to hide.

“Tonight was nice, can’t we leave it like that?”

“Only if tomorrow is nice, too.” He was tenacious, she had to give him that.

“We’re not nice people, Lonnigan,” she reminded him. “You’re grumpy, crabby and not a little bit obsessive.”

“So? You’re rude, foul-mouthed and mean.”

She scoffed, pushing at his brick wall of a chest with her free hand. “Geez, tell me how you really feel, why don’t you?”

“Because if I did that, you’d run as far and as fast as you could.”

She stared up at him, his face obscured by the dark shadows coming from the sea, only the blue lights from the nearby businesses illuminating his features. She touched the side of his face, the slight stubble at his jaw tickling her fingertips. How could he be so handsome, make her heart stutter and her body melt, while his brother had no effect on her at all? Was it the way he touched her, as if he had the right to command her? Or was it the longing in his eyes that no amount of darkness could hide?

He lowered his head slowly, giving her all the time in the world to turn him down. But she didn’t. She wanted his kiss again. Wanted the taste of him on her lips. Craved it.

His hands tightened at her back when his mouth met hers, smooth and cool from the breeze. But the searing heat of him soon took over. She opened to the touch of his tongue, teasing his with the tip of her own. She smiled at the growl she felt rumble in his chest before he swept inside. Then she was lost.

Her hat and her sandals dropped to the sand. Her hands clung to him and her body surged to life. Yes…this was what she ached for when she was kissed by other men. No one, no matter how practiced the technique, could make her moan with just a kiss. His hands dropped lower, caressing her ass, which felt so much better through thin cotton than tight leather. She felt soft against his grip. Lush. Melted. He could lower her to the ground right now, the same way he did on prom night and she wouldn’t think twice. She’d wrap her legs around him and take him so deep inside she’d only have the feeling of being whole instead of being broken.

He tore from the kiss, crushing her against him, his breath hot against her neck. “I want to make love to you, Belle,” he admitted roughly, gripping her tighter and pressing his cock against her belly.

Part of her wanted that, too. Her heart and a few moist places decidedly south. But the rest of her froze. Panicked. Fled. “No.”

He stiffened, lifting his head to meet her gaze. She ached to touch him, to kiss the tension from his jaw and his eyes. But that would only make things worse. He had to know, to understand. What he wanted from her was impossible.

“We can have sex, Lucas. Right here, if that’s what you want, but I can’t make love to you.”

His eyes widened with disbelief. Then, as usual, understanding. Or maybe just memory. “No one gets your heart, right?”

It was hard not to flinch at his bitterness. “I don’t have one.”

He let her go so fast she stumbled backward, upsetting the dog she didn’t realize had decided to park his bony butt behind her. Lucas took a few steps from her, lacing his hands together and folding them behind his head before taking a few steps into the surf. Belinda stood there, body still alight, her dress flapping around her legs as helpless to the wind as she was to Lucas’s pain.