Luke's Absolution (The Colloway Brothers Book 3) (2 page)

“
T
hanks again
, man,” I tell Bigs, picking up an end of the king-sized mattress and walking backward out of the U-Haul in tandem with him. Moving is a bitch, and doing it by yourself just plain sucks ass. We stop and close up the vehicle, not wanting the rest of my shit stolen. It may not be much, but it’s mine. I’d just as soon keep it that way.

“No problem. She know you’re movin’ in yet?”

I let a ghost of a smile turn my mouth. “What? And ruin the surprise? Not a chance in hell.”

We walk right through the ‘secured’ outer apartment doors that any idiot could prop open, leaving all the occupants of this fine twenty-eight-unit building vulnerable the minute they step foot into what’s theoretically to be their safe haven. The alarm that’s supposed to be attached to the outer door appears not to be working. My first order of business is to call the supe and get the damn alarm fixed, along with securing our apartment with locks that would keep even the most sophisticated burglar out, instead of the current ones any amateur could pick.

I’ve never liked where Addy and Livia lived. It’s not exactly in the nicest part of south Chicago, but when I moved Livia here, I wasn’t about to let her live alone. I needed to get away from her so she could heal. I couldn’t leave her completely alone either, so when I found out Eric’s sister lived in Chicago and was in need of a roommate, it seemed like the fates were on our side for fucking once.

“Somehow, I don’t think this is the type of surprise a woman likes.”

Somehow, I don’t think Addy Monroe would like
any
kind of surprise. She seems to have her little world in tip-top organized shape. Or so she wants everyone to believe. She needs it shaken up just a bit. And I’m a goddamned walking earthquake.

“She’ll deal.”

We navigate the flimsy piece up three flights of stairs, into my new digs and to the bedroom I’ll now be occupying. Flopping it onto the springs that sit on the floor because the bed frame sits in pieces in the corner, I take a look around at my new “home.” Unwelcome memories cause a little pang of hurt in the middle of my chest.

It’s been almost six months now that I was in this very room, holding Livia in my arms when she was such a goddamn mess over my twin that she couldn’t even function. I look toward the bathroom, where I can still envision her bubble-covered body. It was the first time I’d seen it without bruises or blood or broken bones. I remember the restraint it took to hold back from pulling her to my mouth, begging her to choose me instead.

I did the right thing, though. Livia clearly belongs with Gray, not with a man like me who has so many fucking ghosts in his closet, I’m surprised people can’t hear them howling.

My selflessness with regard to Livia is one of the only things in my life I’m truly proud of. I care enough about her to walk away and that was a damn hard thing to do.

Maybe moving in here was a bad idea. The shit of it is, I’ve actually been making progress in getting over Livia, too. Gray and I have been spending more time together, especially since I moved my business to Chicago six weeks ago, and our relationship is slowly improving. With each new story he tells me about Livia and the babies, strangely, the easier it gets to accept it,
them
, and the further I can put Livia in my taillights. God knows I don’t want her in my brights anymore.

Even though I’ve been quietly paying the rent on this place every month, I’ve struggled for the last few weeks with my decision. Is moving in here the right thing to do? Not only do I not need any reminders of Livia Kingsley/Colloway, I haven’t been able to get the mahogany-haired, hazel-eyed knockout—who will be sleeping in the other bedroom just feet away from me—out of my fucking head. All I’ve thought about is how she rebuffed me the night of the Livia and Gray’s wedding and how much I want to change her mind.

I want to tame the untamable.

And I shouldn’t, because Addy Monroe is the type of woman you marry, not the type of woman you just fuck and chuck, and husband material, I am not. Regardless of that fact, am I backing off? No. I’m not. I
can’t
. I can’t explain what I don’t even understand myself, but I’m irrationally drawn to her.

“How about a beer, then we’ll get the rest of the stuff?” I ask Bigs, needing to get my mind off what a stupid decision I’ve just made. I should have just cut bait and found a place of my own that held neither memories nor the woman I want to throw up against the closest wall and fuck into submission. But what can I say? I’m a poster child for self-destruction. Always have been.

“Thought you’d never fucking ask,” he replies, already headed toward the kitchen where I’ve stocked the fridge with a case of Heineken. Handing me one and taking one for himself, we pop the tops and clink before each taking a nice long gulp.

“You sure this is a good idea, boss?”

Ben “Bigs” Briggs is an old friend of mine and an employee I’ve had on the payroll of my private investigation company for two and a half years strong now. He’s also the one I sent to Chicago to keep an eye on Livia for a month until I could figure out the shit with the video that was leaked. We’ve been through hell and back together and I’d trust the man with my life. He’s my closest confidant and knows
almost
everything about my past with Livia, and in one drunken night a couple weeks ago, I guess I mentioned my unholy attraction to her best friend. My new roomie.

“I’m sure I’m tired of listening to you and Hattie’s moaning every fucking night, so yeah.”

His grin is wide and shameless. “Walls are thin, what can I say.”

“Oh, I’ve heard plenty of what you’ve had to say. Even through the Kleenex I shoved in my ears. I now know things about you I would rather go to my grave not knowing.”

That draws a loud laugh from Ben. “Probably taught your sorry ass a few new things.”

“Yeah, a few new things
not
to say.”

“Asshole. Say, I got a tip earlier on the bail jumper. I’m headed to Kankakee tomorrow to check out a lead.”

“Take Stucky with you. This guy’s bad news.”

“Lucky for him I’m his worst fucking nightmare.”

“Bigs, I mean it.”

“Worried about lil’ ol’ me, are you?”

“No, I just want Stucky out of my hair.” I laugh, taking a long pull of the bitter hops.

“I don’t want to be stuck with that whiny bitch any more than you do, LC.” Hence, why we call my newest employee, Jason Stark “Stucky.” He’s proven to be a brilliant investigator, but he’s a bitch baby no one wants to be around for long.

“When you own your own business, then you get to make the assignments.”

“Fucker.” He slams the rest of his beer and sets down the empty bottle on the pristine counter before heading toward the front door. “I’m going to grab the last couple of boxes.”

“Thanks, man.”

I look at the clock to see it’s after eight and I wonder when the hellcat will be home. I know she owns her own painting studio, although I have no idea what hours she keeps. I have to imagine owning her own business like I do, means she puts in a lot of time. I half expected her to be here when I pulled up in the truck but was kind of relieved when she wasn’t. I didn’t want to get into a pissing match in front of Bigs. He’d never let me live that shit down since he tried talking me out of moving in with Addy in the first place.

“Never shit where you eat, man.”

But I already had one father, thank you very much, and God knows I’ve lived under the boot of too many people for too many fucking years, so I’m not about to let anyone hold me back from doing what I want to do when I want to do it.

And, right or wrong, over these last few months what I’ve decided I want to do is Addy Monroe. Repeatedly and wickedly until I’ve had my fill of her. Wooing a woman like that from afar will never work. She’s going to need constant, daily convincing of the reasons she needs me to explore every inch of her sexy temple.

I inanely wonder if she’s dating anyone. Guess maybe I should have thought about that before I moved in. Oh well, far as I know, she’s got no ring on her finger and until she does she’s fair game.

I’m just finishing my beer when I hear a commotion in the hallway. I step out of the kitchen into the living room to a shrill voice yelling, “What the hell?”

I don’t see her because Bigs takes up the entire doorway with his bulk; I sure do
hear
her, though. Bigs catches my eye. With a shit-eating grin on his face, he shakes his head and steps to the side, heading down the hallway with two big boxes in hand.

Watching the space Bigs just vacated, I lock eyes with the woman I’ve ached to see for nearly three long months.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” she shrieks. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing here, Luke?” I’m sure her arms would be flailing if they weren’t filled with folders. I almost wish they weren’t; I’d love to watch her indignant display.

She opens and closes her mouth several times, no more acidic words falling. The barely leashed fire shooting from her eyes would singe me if I actually gave a shit. As it is, I don’t, so I lean against the counter and drink in my fill of the stunning spitfire I
cannot
stop thinking about. I let my gaze slowly roam down her tight body, which is sadly hidden underneath a light pink spring jacket.

Jesus, she is something else. No wonder she’s haunting me. Addy Monroe is the only woman I’ve met in the last five and a half years who has eclipsed all thoughts of Livia, so if I’m honest with myself, that’s the main reason I need to be here with her. She does so many things to my body, to my emotions, but giving my heart and soul a little bit of peace is probably the single biggest one. And while I feel like a rat bastard taking something that she’s not freely offering me, I fucking
need
that peace like I need air. If only for a little while.

When my eyes finally collide with hers again, I let a broad, cocky smile turn my lips, as fury further turns down hers. It’s quite apropos, I think. For some reason, we seem to bring out the worst in each other. All that fire will make for one hell of a good fuck, though. She can say otherwise, but she wants me. Plain as day.

Bigs was probably right. Never shit where you eat. But hell if I care at this particular moment. All I’m doing is planning the hundred ways I’m going to make her moan, scream, and sob my name in pleasure…and maybe even a little in pain. I do keep my promises, after all.

“Hello, dear. How was your day?” I finally retort sweetly.

Her eyes light in fury.

Yeah.

This is gonna be fun.

“
H
ello
, dear. How was your day?” he says with so much false sweetness I swear I was just dipped in a vat of melted sugar.

“You’d better explain yourself,” I grit. I have had one hell of a long day and all I’ve thought about for the last hour is sinking into a hot bath with a bottle of beer before falling into bed. Carla still has the flu, so that means I’ll have to open the store at 10:30 instead of going in at 1:00 as I usually do on Fridays. The last thing I need is to come home to some pompous ass invading my personal space. Even if he is the best looking pompous ass I’ve ever laid eyes on.

When I struck up a conversation with the intimidating but good-looking big dude named Ben, who’s now walking toward me from what used to be Livia’s bedroom, and he told me he was helping a buddy move in, I have to confess I was excited at the prospect of a younger guy living in this building. It’s mostly filled with low-income families and senior citizens on a fixed budget. I admit this isn’t the greatest place to live, however, the price is right. Cheap. And, while I’m now finally making a decent profit, a good part of what I make is still going right back into my business.

So I was excited, until big and handsome walked right into
my
apartment, that is. He was all chatty on the three flights up, but once we walked through my open door, he completely clammed up. Could have been my screeching or it could have been the knowing look Luke Colloway was giving him.

“I’m waiting.”

“Not really sure I owe you an explanation, sweetheart.” Luke picks up the two empty beer bottles on the counter and opens the garbage, tossing them in. Ben is standing at the mouth of the hallway taking us in, trying hard to contain his smile. Unsuccessfully, I might add.

“What?” I breathe, unable to believe what I’m hearing. “You pick the lock and move your shit in here without my knowledge and you don’t think you owe me an explanation?”

“Name’s on the lease, doll, so just taking what I’m paying for.”

I set down the tax files I need to sort through this weekend and walk into the kitchen until I’m toe to toe with the most gorgeous and infuriating man I have ever met. I have to try hard not to drag in a long breath, filling my lungs with his impossibly intoxicating scent. And I most definitely have to push all thoughts of how good it is to set my starved eyes on his sexiness again after ten weeks (but who’s counting?). Jesus, the things he does to my body without even a touch should be illegal.

“What do you mean
your
name is on the lease?”

“I don’t think I stuttered, fireball.”

“Fireball?” I spit incredulously. “You do realize that’s a character on
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
, don’t you?”

His eyes darken like a sudden storm swept in. “God, Addy, you’re so fucking sexy when you get all riled up,” he rasps. His warm breath, which smells faintly of beer, showers over my face and drizzles slowly south. Then, oblivious to the fact his friend is standing twenty feet away, he grabs my hand and brashly brings it to his stiff erection just like he did at Livia’s wedding. “This is what your smart mouth does to me, fireball.”

My thighs clench against the flood that just left my va-jay-jay. Curse this denim. I want to pull my hand away as much as I want to unzip his faded jeans and slip inside to feel the silky hardness my fingers are currently wrapped around. I’ve daydreamed about his cock a hundred times in the last few months wondering what his velvety skin would feel like against me,
in
me. Hell, I’ve daydreamed about it
a
lot
longer than just three months.

But I am not about to give Mr. I’ve-got-the-biggest-ego-of-the-century-going any more satisfaction of doing either. So, holding his eyes, I let a smirk tip my lips and let him hold fast to me, secretly relishing in the fact that I have remembered his impressive length accurately all this time.

“Sounds like more of a Luke problem than it does mine.”

A mirrored smile lifts the corner of his mouth, his hand tightening on mine. I have to fight my lids not to close in ecstasy.
Oh God
.

“I think you’d like it to be an Addy
solution
, sweetheart.”

I bristle. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t lie to yourself,” he retorts smugly.

He holds us in this position for several long seconds, our eyes sparring. When he lets my hand go and it drops to my side, I almost whimper at the loss, the warmth of him still radiating in my palm. Neither of us moves a muscle, except for my heart, which is currently beating almost out of my chest in both rage and excitement. I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on.

Uh…that would be never.

“How is your name on the lease, Luke?” I ask, lowering my voice.

“I signed it when I helped Livia move here.”

“Why?”

“That’s not your business, Addy.”

“Show me.”

He barks a laugh. “Show you? What…don’t believe me, sweetheart?”

“I’m not sure you’re trustworthy.” His eyes flare with hurt so fast I almost miss it, but I don’t. Then I immediately feel bad. Livia apparently trusted Luke, and I have no reason to think he would lie to me about something like this. “What if I don’t want you here?”

“What if I don’t want
you
here?” he retorts, his hazel depths dancing with mirth.

At five feet eight inches when I wear flats, I’m only about seven inches shorter than Luke. Today, I’m wearing three-inch heels, which brings my mouth in line with his scruffy jawline. The urge to lean in and take a long lick is almost overpowering. My hands curl into fists as I fight the itch to sink my fingers into his long dark locks and pull his mouth to mine.

I lean up so our lips are a hairsbreadth away. They brush slightly when I whisper, “Liar.”

Then before I can do something stupid, like close the millimeter that separates us, taking everything I want, I take a giant step back along with a deep cleansing breath. Except with every inhale I catch a lungful of Luke.

Damn. Shit. Fuck.

This is bad. So very bad. I
cannot
live with Luke Colloway. If I thought I had a hard time resisting him before, that will be nothing compared to living with the sensual, irresistible, walking, talking sex-on-a-stick twenty-fours a day.

Gah!

“I want you gone by morning,” I demand, turning to gather my stuff.

“Not gonna happen, sweetheart,” he calls behind me.

I resist the overwhelming impulse to stomp out of the room like a five-year-old and quietly gather my files and purse before walking calmly toward my bedroom.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ben,” I mumble when I skirt past his hulky frame.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Addy.” He smiles when our eyes catch. Big and intimidating is actually not so much when he smiles. He’s quite attractive, really. I stop, giving him my full attention, an idea forming in my head.

“Say, what are you doing tonight?”

“Ah…” The smile drops from his face in a hot second and his eyes dart back and forth between Luke and me. I don’t look at Luke, certain he’s twenty kinds of pissed at my invitation. I can practically feel the waves of anger wafting across the small space, crashing into me. Well, tough shit. Two can play this little game,
fireball
. I smile but keep it inside.

“He’s busy,” Luke barks and now I do slide my gaze his way.

“Well, see…I didn’t ask you and Ben here is a big boy, so he can answer for himself.”

“Bigs, leave.” Luke’s volcanic eyes never leave mine and now I let my smile out, giving my attention back to the man in front of me.
Bigs
. The man I’m irresponsibly and selfishly using to get under Luke’s skin. I turn up the flirt another notch…or ten.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Resting a hand on his forearm, I ask, “Ben, I’ve had a long day. How about a drink or two at the little bar down the street?”

“Like hell,” Luke bellows.

Ben’s eyes have been volleying between Luke and me in amusement. Gently, he places a hand over mine, removing it with the utmost care, like I might break if he moves too fast. “Sorry, doll. Love to, but I’m pretty attached to my balls. And my manhood.” He strides for the door, long legs eating the short distance. “Later, man. I’ll return the rental,” he calls behind him before sealing Luke and me in this tiny space alone.

We have another silent face-off before I huff and spin on my heels. Heading down the hallway, I shut myself into the safety of my sanctuary and take a deep breath for the first time in minutes, pissed I didn’t grab a beer, or twelve, on my way. I need one now more than ever, but there’s no way I’m about to step foot outside my locked door for the rest of the night.

Great, I’m now a prisoner in my own home.

I close my eyes, wondering what in the hell I’m going to do no. No matter how much screaming, yelling, or protesting I do, I already know Luke Colloway is as stubborn as the day is long.

If he wants to live here, he will…and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.