Luke's Absolution (The Colloway Brothers Book 3) (13 page)

“
H
ey man
, how you been?” I haven’t talked to Eric since that night back in October when he called telling me Livia was in a bad way after her blowup with Gray. Addy, who was at her wits’ end with no idea what to do, knew Livia needed me. She had no way to get ahold of me, so she called her brother, who knew how to get in touch.

I’ll never forget how pale and fragile and lost Livia looked when I walked into her bedroom. I immediately knew what had happened. At that moment, I wanted to kill Gray for hurting her so deep, but I also wanted to spill the entire horror story so he knew what hell the woman he was in love with had endured. I’m glad she came to her senses and did it herself. Gray needed to hear it from her, not me.

“LC, haven’t heard from you in a while. Same old, same old, man. You?”

“Pretty much the same. Moved my PI biz to Chicago a couple months ago.”

“Your brothers are there, right?”

“Yep.” And your sister, who I’m going to marry someday, like it or not.

This is the thing about Eric. He’s highly protective of his family. Always has been. When he first hooked me up with Addy so Livia would have a place to live, he made it crystal clear she was off limits, even though she was a grown-ass adult. So unless Addy has said something to him—and I know she hasn’t or he would’ve called to chew me a new asshole or shown up with a shotgun by now—he has no idea I’m now her new roomie. I want him to hear it from me first, and not over the phone, so my call is twofold.

“You talking to them now?”

“Yeah.”

“Glad to hear it.” I know Eric means it. He’s a genuine family man. Despite the fact his background is similar to mine, he never cut ties with his like I did. But we’ve both pulled our shit together and are in far better places than just a few years ago.

“Say, I’m gonna be in town in a couple weeks for Easter. I’d like you to draw up some new ink for me so I can take a look at it. Then we can schedule some time to get it done.”

Eric is an incredible artist and co-owner of a highly successful tattoo shop in Detroit called Inked On. He’s created and inked all my tats except for the dove and hourglass I have on my right forearm. I got that done when I was living in hell on earth in Boston, so I’d have a constant reminder of why the fuck I voluntarily stayed.

In Egyptian times, the dove was a symbol of innocence. That represented Livia. The hourglass reminded me to have patience in my task to free her and do it right so neither of us would end up dead in the process.

I spend the next few minutes describing what I want in detail. “You think you can do it?”

He laughs darkly. “Who the fuck you think you’re talking to, LC? I make gold out of shit.”

“I’ll start saving up, then. Do you make them into bars, too?”

“Fuck you.”

“Hard pass.”

I hear Addy stick her key in the lock and try to turn it. She shakes the handle, rattling the door when it won’t budge.

“Say, gotta run. I’ll hook up with you Easter weekend.”

“Looking forward to it.”

I rise from the couch and jog across the room. When I swing the door open she looks startled.

“Oh, sorry. My key wouldn’t work for some reason,” she says, sliding past me. I don’t budge an inch, forcing her body to brush against mine. I almost sigh in blessed relief.

Don’t say it. I’m pathetic. I’m pussy whipped. She already has my manhood securely harnessed in a cock cage. All true.

Ask me if I care.

“I changed the locks today. New keys are on the counter for you.”

She turns toward me after setting her purse down along with her jacket. “Why?”

Today she’s wearing a greyish-green short-sleeve shirt that says
Rain Rain Go Away
, along with painted on tan skinny jeans and bright green chucks. Her dark hair is in loose waves around her barely made-up face. She looks fucking amazing.

“Why what?” I ask, walking back to the couch, discreetly adjusting my hard-on. I sink down in the corner, spreading my legs wide, throwing my arm over the back. I watch her eyes lazily travel down my seated form and fuck I want to give in to the cocky smile begging to be set free, but I don’t dare or I’ll stoke her ever-present smoldering embers into a raging fire. And right now, I’d just as soon have a nice conversation than an all-out battle of wills.

“Why did you change the locks?” She leans that fine ass against one of the island stools. I wish she were sitting by me instead. Okay,
on
me.

“A blind five-year-old could pick the ones you had. They were unsafe.”

She regards me for a few seconds, a small smile on her lips. “Lucky for me there are no blind five-year-olds who live in this building then, I guess.”

“I guess.” I can’t help but return her infectious smile. Holy Mother Mary, she’s magnificent.
Down boy. Down.

“Don’t you have a gun?”

Her question surprises me. I do have a gun, my trusty SIG Pro 2022. After the life I’ve led, I’m very comfortable using one, although I can say I’ve never killed anyone with it (come on, you know you were wondering). I’d rather never see one again. Unfortunately, sometimes my job is dangerous, particularly the bounty hunting part, so I’m forced to have it. I only carry it when necessary, though. I also know for damn sure I’ve never left it lying around the apartment.

“Snooping, are we?”

She looks a little sheepish. “No. I just…I saw it on your dresser one day when I walked by your room.”

I have nothing to hide from her. Hell, I want her to know everything she’s getting into with me. That’s why I always keep my door open, unlike Addy, who has her private space locked down so tight you’d think it contained codes to the country’s nuclear warheads. Not that it’s kept me out. That’s one fucking lock I am
not
replacing.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Christ, I hope not. I’ll never stand a chance with her.

“No. I—not at all. I feel safer, actually,” she mutters, looking down.

“Really?” I hear the hope in my voice. I’m sure she doesn’t miss it either.

Her eyes lift to mine. “Really,” she replies softly.

The air becomes thick, pulsing with desire. Somehow I don’t think she’s talking about the firearm anymore.

I took Addy dinner on Wednesday. Today is Friday. While things haven’t been as tense as they were and we’ve even come to some sort of weird truce, she’s far from letting her guard down completely. Despite what my mom thinks, I’m working my ass off to obliterate it to dust so she’ll let me in.

It’s now been almost two fucking weeks since my cock has been denied entry into his rightful home and he’s getting antsy. I can’t tell you how badly I want to pounce on her, pinning her to the counter so I can fuck her into conceding to this insane attraction that’s arching hot between us.

But as much as I want her to be, she’s not ready and the next time I have her, there will be no fucking dancing around what we’re doing. I won’t give her up and I sure as hell won’t let her walk away from me again. I realize I sound very caveman. Trust me, I feel like it too.

So instead, I clear my throat and ask, “Did you eat?”

“A protein bar.”

My eyes flick to the round clock on the kitchen wall that looks like a sunflower. It’s hideous, but that’s beside the point. It’s almost ten p.m. and she’s just arriving home from work. I’ve already noticed Addy doesn’t take very good care of herself. She doesn’t eat well, she doesn’t exercise—
not that she needs it, mind you
—and it hasn’t escaped my notice she usually doesn’t sleep through the night either. I hear her padding around on the wood floor frequently.

I stand and walk past her to the fridge, pulling out the leftover chicken fettuccine Alfredo I made earlier. Funny…I haven’t really wanted to cook once in the past couple of years, yet after registering her emotional reaction when I brought her something as simple as soup on Wednesday night, I find myself wanting to cook for her again. For my entire life, even.

I dish some on a plate and stick it in the microwave, setting the timer for a minute thirty seconds.

“What’s that?”

“Your dinner.”

“I already had dinner.”

“A protein bar does not constitute dinner, fireball.” I can’t help but notice she’s not yelled at me about my pet name for her since the night of dinner at Gray’s. I have to suppress a smile.

“I can’t eat something that rich this late. I’ll get fat,” she protests.

I take a few steps until I’m standing in front of her. “First, you’re fucking perfect and a few bites of pasta won’t change that. Second, you don’t eat well and I intend to fix that. Maybe if you ate better, you’d sleep better.”

She looks surprised at my observation, although I don’t know why she should be. I told her I would fight for her. How does she think I’m not going to pay attention to everything she does? Some days I feel like a goddamned stalker I’m so attuned to her.

The room grows silent except for the humming of the microwave warming her food.

“You did this with Livia.”

She doesn’t have to elaborate on what she means. I nod, remembering when I tried to get Livia to eat chicken noodle soup, which she promptly threw up because she was pregnant even though I didn’t know it yet. It took me all of twenty-four hours after she came home from the hospital to figure that out. “Yes.”

I don’t know what I expect her to say, but it’s not what she does. “Because you care about her.”

Fuck it. It’s time to address the pink polka-dotted elephant that’s sucking the life, along with my chances, right out of the room. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Livia, Addy. It has to do with my concern about
your
well-being. Since you brought her up, though, ask me what you
really
want to know.”

The ding sounds indicating her food is hot. Neither of us moves for so long I don’t think she’s going to say another word…but she does.

“Do you love her?”

She doesn’t fuck around. I love that about her. I
love
everything about her. I’m pretty fucking sure I’m in love with all of her, pigheadedness included.

“Livia and I share a unique history, Addy. It’s complicated.”

She doesn’t blink. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“Who hurt you, fireball?”

“Who didn’t?” she retorts flatly. My soul aches for her. For us. I don’t want to be lumped into the category with every other man who’s come before me, even though I should probably lead the pack. God knows I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. Pure instinct is driving me here.

“Do you love her?” she asks again.

I frame her beautiful, petite face with my mammoth hands. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“Says the Rottweiler.”

I smile briefly. She’s got my number. “I’m not in love with my brother’s wife if that’s what you’re asking,” I tell her adamantly. Not anymore.

“But you were.”

Yes, I was in love with Livia. But I now understand that loving her brought me to the woman I’m supposed to spend my life with, so I will not regret it and I sure as fuck will not apologize for it. Sighing loudly, I say, “Addy, we all have a past. Don’t hold mine against me. Please.”

Her face falls and her eyes drop.

“Addy, look at me,” I coax softly. “Please, baby.” Watery eyes meet mine, and it couldn’t hurt worse than if I’d been shot. And that hurts like a motherfucker, let me tell you. “I care about Livia. I always will. We went through something horrific together, something I know you think you want to know about. Trust me, you don’t. And to protect everyone, including you, that’s all I can say. But I meant every damn word I said in the bathroom. You’ve had me wound up with that clever tongue of yours for months.
You
are the only woman who has my heart.
You
are the only woman I want, Addy Monroe. There’s no room inside me for anyone else but you.
Just you
.”

I lean down slowly, giving her a chance to protest. She doesn’t. I hear the quickening of her breath, matching mine. “You’re my color, fireball,” I whisper against her mouth before I take it in a soft, slow kiss. My God, it’s like nirvana to have my mouth on hers again. She’s hesitant at first, but only momentarily before relaxing easily into me. My cock leaps, thinking he’s getting in on the action. Fuck…he’s not. Not tonight.

I keep my caresses intentionally light, tenderly worshipping her. I gently clamp her plump bottom lip between my teeth and suck. I live in her quiet moans I know she doesn’t want me to hear. The heat of the palms she’s now resting against my waist easily penetrates my thin tee, scorching me.

After a minute, I force my mouth from hers. I need her to burn white hot for me like I do for her. She’s getting close, but she’s not quite there yet.

“I’m not giving up until you acknowledge you’re mine,” I husk, pecking her mouth one more time.

“I’m not some prize for winning first place, Luke.”

I pull back and stare deeply into her eyes. She looks scared and confused. I choose my words carefully, sensing she’s balancing precariously on a wire and one stiff breeze will push her over. If I’m not careful, she’ll be lost to me forever. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Addy. You? Your love? They’re the ultimate prize no man walking this earth deserves, especially me. But I want it all anyway and I’ll work every single day to earn it.”