Lush (3 page)

He swirled the last swallow of whiskey around in his glass and then downed it in one burning gulp. If she wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, he’d have to find another way back into her life.

The doorbell rang, startling him out of his thoughts. Whoever it was had bypassed his front gate. Very few of his friends had the gate code and the kind of relationship with him that they could come over unannounced. Must be his good friend Lucas Vega, dropping by with a report on Lucy’s ex. Lucas’s security firm was the only one he trusted with this kind of job. It had to be bad news for him to show up at—Jesus—nearly ten o’clock at night in the pouring rain.

Cal turned on the porch light and opened the door to a sight he’d never thought he’d see again—Lucy, here, at his home. She was soaked, her hair and clothes plastered to her. How long had she been standing there? Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen as if she’d been crying. Her car idled in the drive behind her. Whatever she’d come for, she wasn’t staying.

She lifted her chin and flipped the wet strands of her hair back over one shoulder. Damn if she wasn’t beautiful, standing there dripping on his porch, defeated yet defiant.

“All right,” she said, lip quivering. “I’ll marry you.”

CHAPTER THREE

Lucy turned and started back down the steps away from him. This was wrong. This was all wrong.

“Lucy, wait.”

She wouldn’t wait, she kept on going, and so he followed her barefoot out into the rain.

“Hold up.” He got to her just as she reached for the handle of her car door and gripped her arm to keep her from opening it. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She jerked out of his grasp and spun around to face him. “I said I’d marry you. What more do you want?”

“I want to know what’s got you so upset.”

“Does it really matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters.”

“There wasn’t anything in your offer that said we had to confide in each other. I agreed to your terms. You’re going to get what you want—a wife—isn’t that enough?”

He reached for her again. She flinched as though he’d hit her.
What the hell?
He put his palms up to show he wouldn’t try to touch her. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, clearly embarrassed at her overreaction.

Something or someone had her spooked, and he’d bet it had to do with her son-of-a-bitch ex. He took half a step back and gentled his tone. “Come inside and dry off. Let’s talk about this.”

She looked for a moment like she might agree, glancing up at the house and then back at him. “It’s late, and I already said all I came to say.”

“Where would you like to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Get married. And when? We need to set a date.”

“Does it matter? This is all your deal.” She paused, looking away and then back. “Soon. I think it should be soon.”

“Okay. We can do it as soon as you like. Why don’t you come inside, and we can work it out?”

“Poppy’s supposed to be asleep. It’s past her bedtime.”

“I’d like to meet her. Show her where she’ll be living.”

“She’s only eight months old. She’s not going to be impressed by how lavish your house is.”

He cracked a half smile. She was starting to sound more like the Lucy he knew.

“Well, I don’t know. She might think the new media room is kinda cool.”

“And you think she’s gonna care how big your screen is?”

“Maybe. I’ve been told it’s quite impressive.”

Her laugh rumbled through him, deep throated and so damn sexy. “All right. I guess we can come in for a little while.” 

“Hang on. Stay right there.” He jogged up the front steps and grabbed an umbrella from the stand just inside the front door. Returning, he was relieved to find she hadn’t moved.

He popped open the umbrella. “For Poppy,” he explained. “So she doesn’t get wet.”

She eyed him as though she was trying to decide if he was for real or not. Again he wondered what the hell had happened with her since he’d seen her earlier that day. Whatever it was had driven her to him, and for that he couldn’t help but feel grateful. At the same time it pissed him off. Someone had messed with her.

He held the umbrella over her as she unhooked the baby from her seat. She wrapped her in a blanket and reached for a big bag, which he took from her. He walked up the steps with her, protecting them from the rain. Motioning her into the house, he followed her inside. He dealt with the umbrella and closed the door to find her examining him like there was something wrong with him, but she couldn’t make out what it was.

“Go on in to the living room. I’ll grab some towels and be right back.”

He waited until she started that direction to run upstairs. She looked so lost he wasn’t sure if she’d stay or bolt. He made it back downstairs in record time, out of breath and glad to find her standing in the middle of the room as though she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

He set the towels on the coffee table. “Here you go.” He held his arms out. “I’ll hold her while you dry off.”

“Do you even know how to hold a baby?”

“Of course I do. I even know how to change a diaper.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a secret baby holed up somewhere.”

“Hell no. My parents are foster parents, and they frequently get babies to care for. I know my way around babies as well as you do I’d imagine.”

He could tell she didn’t believe him, but she handed him the baby anyway, watching all the while to make sure he didn’t drop her. He easily repositioned Poppy so she wasn’t pressed against his wet shirt. He moved the edge of the blanket back and got his first look at her. She resembled Lucy so much it blew him away. Except for the red hair. Where had that come from?

“Her hair is red,” he blurted out.

“Just like my grandma’s. Are you sure you’re okay there?”

“We’re fine.” He stood there staring down at Poppy who stared right back. And then she smiled at him, and damned if she wasn’t the most perfect baby he’d ever seen. “She likes me better than you do.”

Lucy glanced up from rubbing the water out of her hair to find Cal and Poppy grinning at each other. He looked so strange and yet so right, standing there soaking wet, holding her baby, that it made her chest pinch. If things had gone differently between them, Poppy might have had him for a father instead of Kevin. She blotted at the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes, disguising the gesture as checking for mascara smudges.

“Well, hello there, sweet pea. You’re as pretty as your momma, aren’t you?” Cal’s low, honeyed voice made Poppy giggle. He was devastating to ladies of any age.

“You’ll flirt with any female.”

“Nah, just the good-looking ones.”

And that right there had her worrying she’d made a mistake in coming here and agreeing to marry Cal. He’d earned his bad-boy reputation honestly. She’d been hurt by him before. She couldn’t bare the thought of him hurting Poppy as well if she got too attached to him. What was she thinking, bringing a new person into her daughter’s life who not only wouldn’t go the distance, but could potentially disappoint her? This was going to be a disaster.

But what choice did she have?

She must have traipsed back and forth in the rain between Cal’s front door and her car about eighty times, mumbling to herself like a crazy person, before she’d gotten up the nerve to knock. Once she had it was like someone had popped an invisible balloon inside of her filled with tension and apprehension. Maybe this wouldn’t be the disaster she expected it to be. Maybe they could keep everything businesslike and cordial and in a year’s time she’d be on her way with enough money socked away that she could move her and Poppy as far away from Kevin as possible.

She dried herself off as best she could, all the while keeping a sharp eye on Cal. He was good with Poppy, so natural. He hadn’t talked much about his family when they were together. But then they hadn’t done much more than screw each other’s brains out every chance they got. Talking had pretty much been limited to
your place or mine?

When she was sure she was as dry as she was going to get, she walked over to the sofa where Cal sat with her daughter. He seemed completely oblivious to how his wet clothes would ruin the leather. But then he could just buy himself a new one the way other people replaced holey socks.

Lucy held her hands out. “I can take her now.”

“We’re fine. Want a drink?”

“I want my daughter.” She still wasn’t over Kevin’s threat, she realized. It was as though Kevin hung in the air above her, waiting to snatch Poppy away the moment she turned her back.

“Sure.” Cal gave Poppy over, eyeing Lucy like she was the one who might disappear. “Want a drink, something to warm you up?”

“That would be nice. Thanks.”

Cal rose and went over to the bar in the corner. He moved with the grace and power of a predator. Long and lean, his body never ceased to draw her attention and every other woman’s in the room. She’d been so proud to be with him, thinking herself something special. Now she was going to be his wife.

“Why me?” she asked, sitting down and adjusting Poppy in her lap.

He turned with two tumblers half full of amber liquid in each hand. He offered her the one with ice. She couldn’t help but be surprised that he remembered how she liked her drink.

He sat next to her on the sofa. “I’m assuming you’re asking me why I asked you to marry me.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that. You didn’t really ask me. It was more of an offer like you’d put on a house or a car. But yeah, why me and not, well,
anyone
else?”

“Oh, shit.” He set his glass on the table with a thunk. “Hold on. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

She followed him out of the room with her gaze. He was acting so strangely tonight. But then this whole thing was strange, from the way he’d made his proposal to the way she’d accepted.

He came back into the room and headed straight for her, and then he did the most astonishing thing—he dropped to one knee in front of her. He took the glass from her and clasped her hand between both of his.

“What are you doing?” She couldn’t help the panic in her voice. And she really wished she had three hands so she could knock back that drink.

“Lucy Monroe, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“What are you doing? Get up.”

“Not till you give me an answer.”

“I already said I’d marry you. This isn’t necessary.”

“Yes, it is. Now are you going to give me an answer or not?” He actually looked kind of nervous.

“This isn’t real. None of this is real. What are you trying to do here?” Get her hopes up? Make her feel as though this was the beginning of a real engagement that would become a real marriage? This was insane.
He
was insane.

“It’s as real as this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, signature blue box, and her heart rate doubled. Then he lifted the lid, and she thought her heart might stop altogether. The most beautiful cushion cut diamond surrounded by sapphires winked up at her.

“I don’t understand.” She flipped the box lid closed, unable to stand how incredibly perfect the ring was. “This doesn’t make any sense. Why are you doing this?”

“We need a story to tell people. How you came over and we were sitting here having a quiet night in during a rainstorm and then I proposed and you accepted. Only you haven’t done your part yet.” He opened the box again. “If you don’t like the ring, we can exchange it.”

Poppy made a grab for the ring, which Lucy blocked just in time.

“Well, Poppy seems to like it. Don’t you, sweet pea?” He tweaked Poppy’s nose, making her giggle. “Are you going to make me stay down here until my legs go numb?” he asked Lucy.

Lucy stared at the ring, which was so dang beautiful it made her eyes water.

“Oh, damn, darlin’. Don’t cry. You hate it. I get it.” He snapped the lid closed. “We’ll get you another one.”

“No, you big dumb cowboy. I love it, but I can’t accept it.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t answer your question until you answer mine. Why me?”

“I trust you.”

Well, it wasn’t poetry or flowers, but it was something he never gave idly. And he’d answered quick enough that she believed him. She supposed it was enough. It wasn’t like she expected him to profess his undying love for her. She never would’ve believed it anyway.

She slowly stuck her left hand out. “Then yes, I will marry you.”

He reopened the box and took the ring out. Poppy made another swipe for it, but he slipped it on Lucy’s finger before the baby could get a hold of it. It fit perfectly, and her eyes started filling up all over again.

“God, darlin’, you’re killing me with those tears.” He swiped the tear that escaped down her cheek with the pad of his thumb, following it with a kiss. “It won’t be so bad, I promise. You might actually like being married to me.”

She sniffed, waving his words away. “No, it’s not that. I just can’t believe what we’re going to do. It’s crazy.”

“It is. It’s completely insane.”

“While we’re talking about crazy, improbable things, do you think it would be okay if Poppy and I move in here before the wedding? My lease is up at the end of the month, and it doesn’t really make sense for me to pay the extra expense of a month-to-month lease. You know, if we’re going to be married soon.”

She held her breath. This was too much to ask. It was a complete betrayal of his trust not telling him the real reason she needed a new place to live. But the fact was, she was too ashamed to tell him how bad things were for her. She’d lost the only babysitter she could afford, which meant she couldn’t go to work tomorrow. And she couldn’t look for a new job without someone to watch Poppy. Not to mention she’d be homeless at the end of the month.

“That’s next week,” he said, still on bended knee.

“Yes, I know.” She shook her head. “It’s okay. Never mind. I’ll make it work.”

“No. It’s fine. You can move in whenever you like.”

She let out a heavy, relieved breath. “Thank you. That’s very generous of you.”

“Now I have a question for you.” He grabbed his drink and stood up. “Why did
you
agree to marry
me
?”