Mad About Plaid (7 page)

Lucy leaned against the wall, pulling her legs close to her body. If she possessed just an ounce of that confidence and belief… But she was working on it. She had to stop counting herself out, had to stop the self-sabotage, and telling herself she wasn't good enough to try.

"I can feel you frowning at me," he said before opening his eyes and turning slightly so that his shoulder rested against the wall.

Lucy didn't bother denying it. She shrugged, giving him a half-hearted smile. "Just thinking."

He arched an eyebrow. "About me."

"Don't flatter yourself."

He snorted at her obvious lie.

"Well, I was
frowning
, so it's not like it was a good thought."

"Gee. Thanks. So what is this horrible thought?"

"Why are you being so kind to me? I haven't exactly made the best impression."

"No," he agreed. "You haven't."

Ian went quiet as thunderclouds rolled in, making the room darker and the flames brighter. Shadows danced on the walls. The fire snapped and sparks shot into the air. "I was pissed," he admitted.

"But you're not anymore."

"I'm pretty good at reading people. Kind of obvious the whole thing was giving you grief. You didn't enjoy lying. I get trying to help someone. But why did you let me think you were your cousin?"

She really didn't want to get into details. But she knew he deserved an answer. "I don't know. I was embarrassed, already nervous about your reaction once you learned Riley wasn't coming. I couldn't seem to open my mouth and say it. I guess . . . I didn't want to be a disappointment yet again. Which is my own issue, not yours, so..."

"I would have been disappointed," he admitted. "Riley is one of the top travel writers in the States. But why 'a disappointment, yet again'?"

"You really don't want to know."

"I think we have some time." Thunder shook the house and Ian glanced out the window. Concern flashed across his face and then was gone. "Start talking."

She scooted closer to the wall and stared at the fire, listening to its pop and snap as thunder rumbled again and rain continued to batter the roof. She wasn't as opposed to sharing as she thought she'd be. Maybe it was time to get it all out, to set it free. And maybe that was easier to do with a relative stranger than it was with her family.

"All right. Well, why do I feel like a disappointment? Let's see. Because I've failed at most everything I have ever tried. Because I'm thirty years old and still don't have a defined goal in life." She thought of her parents, her voice dropping. "Because people leave me and never come back."

That statement hung in the air for a moment before Ian asked, "What people?"

"My ex, for one. Dumped me at our engagement party." Ian winced. "Said he tried, but just couldn't live an entire life with someone who had no ambition, no goals, someone who was okay with bathing and smelling like dogs forever. He hated dogs."

Ian watched Lucy's profile and felt the first stirrings of anger. "I hope you laid him out flat."

She turned a sad smile his way, and it made him want to punch the guy himself. "No. I was pretty pathetic. Just stood there. I think I was in shock. I didn't say anything." She toyed with the hem of her shirt, her voice quiet when she spoke again. "Seeing him walk away… That was hard part. That feeling of being left where you stand. Knowing you're no longer wanted."

Christ. He hadn't thought by pushing her to open up that it'd be so goddamn sad and infuriating. He was torn between trying to make it better—even though he had no clue how to do that—and wanting to hurt the man who'd put that deep sadness in her eyes.

"Funny thing is," she continued, "I think I was more stunned and hurt by being left than by the actual breakup, if that makes sense."

He nodded. "Who else left you?" he asked, surprising himself. Normally, he'd be distancing himself by now. Getting too involved was a distraction and complication he'd always avoided. He hadn't wanted a relationship while he was in the military; he'd seen too many of them crumble under the strain.

But he was never going back. This time he actually wanted to know more, wanted to know what made this woman tick, what led to her feeling like such a disappointment to herself and others.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You said your ex, for one. So there were others…"

"Oh. Yeah. I mean, no. Not like you're thinking. My parents." Ah. Now Ian could see where the root of her sadness came from. It didn't get any deeper than that. Lucy drew in a deep breath. "My father died in a car accident when I was twelve. My mother fell into a deep depression. Six months later, she committed suicide. She couldn't live without him."

Bloody hell.

She said it so matter-of-fact, as though it no longer hurt. But he knew that was a lie. Lucy's mother had left her child alone when she needed her the most. No doubt it had left her feeling like she wasn't worth living for. He felt blind-sided and hurt for her. Angry, too.

"So there ya go,"' she added with a thin smile. "Sorry you asked?"

Was he?

"No," he answered, honestly. "Not sorry at all."

She shifted, facing him, and let the side of her head rest against the wall. "Your turn."

"Not much to tell."

"Right. Scared?" Her gaze went challenging. "Dare I say, chicken?"

Ian laughed. Lucy was smart, funny, and she obviously loved her family—otherwise she wouldn't have traveled across the Atlantic to help out her cousin. She had a quirkiness about her, which he thought was sexy as hell. It didn't hurt she was a stunner with those big brown eyes, sweet lips, and that infuriating ponytail. "Your ex was an idiot."

Her smile faltered. Pink crept into her cheeks. Silence swept in, filling the space between them with awkwardness. His mouth went dry. She was looking at him with a mix of interest and anxiety that made his heart pound. Then, she licked and bit her lip. A flash of teeth and tongue. Hell. That did all kinds of things to his resolve.

Screw it. She'd started it by kissing him last night; he might as well finish it right.

He leaned forward, slipped his hand behind her head, and pulled her in.

A fraction before his lips touched hers, he paused. He loved this moment, the way anticipation shot straight through his chest and exploded in his stomach. Lucy hadn't pulled back. In fact, she fisted his shirt, pulled him closer with a hitch in her breath, and kissed him. Again.

He sent up a silent prayer of thanks, then licked her bottom lip. As she opened her mouth and he slipped inside, an arc of lust slammed him hard and he felt it all the way to his toes. He deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking hers hot and slow and thorough just like he liked it, just like he'd wanted to do the first time she'd kissed him.

Lucy moaned and wrapped her arms around him, sliding her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and pressing her breasts against his chest. He cursed in appreciation, a faint whisper against her lips, feeling lost and reckless. And not himself. And sure as hell not flatlined.

Chapter 7

Her blood rushed heavy through her veins. Her heart was going a mile a minute. The feel of his warm lips making their way to her neck made her shiver. His hands slid under her shirt and up her back. They were hot, the palms rough and big.

All he had to do was dip a hand inside her shorts and she'd go off like a firecracker.

And that scared her, the intensity she felt, the swift and surprising rise of it.

Lucy broke the kiss, her hands on his chest. Ian's heart hammered hard and strong against her palm. They stared at each other, speechless, breathless, dazed.

After a moment, he reached up and grabbed her hands at his chest and held them there. "This is the second time you kissed me," he said with an easy smile.

"You started it."

His grin deepened, and Lucy was struck—the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and lines cut through his cheeks. God, he was sexy. And so solidly built she wanted to strip him naked and run her hands all over him just to see for herself.

Overwhelmed, she looked away and drew in a deep breath. When she returned her gaze, Ian was watching her with a quiet expression. His hands still held hers. She wanted to pull them away, didn't want to be close to him, didn't want to get any more involved.

As if sensing her withdrawal, he released her and returned his shoulder to the wall. "I have two questions," he said.

"Okay."

"First, what the hell was with that outfit?"

Lucy burst out laughing. "Liked that, did you?"

"Was mesmerized. All those colors and patterns…"

"It did have a weird hypnotic effect." Her outfit had been so bad. Beyond bad. She must have looked ridiculous when he'd found her. "Well, just so you know, it wasn't my idea."

"Neither was taking your cousin's place."

Lucy made a face at him. "I'm working on saying no to people… Just remember that." Ian arched a brow at that. "It was Grace Lindsey," she went on. "The lady you had meet me at the airport. She took me shopping and I couldn't exactly say no. Well, I guess I could have. She just seemed so happy with her choices in clothes…"

Ian winced. "Sorry. She lives near the airport and is a very good friend of my uncle's, and offered to help out. Usually she has a bit more style than that, though."

Thunder clapped, making the house shake. With the fire and their conversation, Lucy felt more at ease than she had been in months. She was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Ian, and how interesting it was getting to know him. She was fast becoming a fan of his humor and the smiles that came along with it.

"And the second question," she asked as he stared out the window in deep thought.

Ian looked at her, really looked at her. "The first time… Why did you kiss me?"

Lucy put her head in her hands. "Really?" She dropped her hands. "That's your question?"

His smile was naughty and incredibly hot. "That's my question."

Her first inclination was to close herself off and start doubting. She had nothing of value to say, nothing witty or interesting. He'd think her emotional and ridiculous. But last night, she'd taken a chance, she'd opened herself up to a possibility. So why stop now? Why retreat back into her safe and lonely world?

Lucy scooted to sit cross-legged on the mattress, facing Ian. "All right. Well . . . I did it for a lot of reasons." She bit her lip, trying to put her thoughts into words. "My cousins, Riley and Kate—they're family, but they're also my best friends—they'd tell you I'm the dreamer of the bunch. I am, was, in a lot of ways. Just not so much when it comes to men and relationships. So I guess I was testing myself, taking a chance, seeing if I could be spontaneous again and stop being . . . afraid. That probably sounds stupid."

"Not stupid at all." Thunder boomed. The windows rattled. Ian eased his shoulder away from the wall and paused, waiting for the sound to stop. "Bad experiences can change a person," he said, distracted, looking a little pale. "Can make you protect yourself from being hurt again. It takes courage to reach out and try." She wondered if he was speaking from experience too. "But," he continued, "you left out the other reason you kissed me."

"The other reason," she repeated, not following.

"Your extreme attraction to me."

Lucy blinked.

"I
was
shirtless. And I'm pretty sure it pushed you over the edge."

She took one look at his twinkling eyes and laughed. "That was so not the reason." At his raised brow, she admitted, "Okay, fine. It was part of it, but I wouldn't call it extreme."

"Ouch."

"You're attracted to me, too, by the way."

"I am. I'm not afraid to call it extreme either."

Her pulse leapt and she didn't quite know how to respond to his honesty.

The thunder came in again, sounding like the storm clouds had parked right over the cottage. The windows shook. Ian tensed, the smile dying from his eyes. Every time a crash sounded, he flinched.

"So does that happen often?" Lucy asked the first lame thing that came to mind.

"What?"

"You know, strangers coming up and laying one on you like I did. That sort of thing."

"Sometimes."

"Really?"

He shrugged. "There are some women who always hang around the bars near base. They're into men in the military, want to take you home and show you a good time." He flinched again as lightning cracked nearby.

"And do you go?"

He leveled haunted blue eyes at her. "Sometimes. When you're on leave for a short time and haven't had anything soft and welcoming for months on end… Yeah, sometimes you take what's offered. Depends on the woman and the situation."

When a lightning strike landed close to the cottage, they both jumped. Her heart pounded. She didn't mind storms, but that had been a massive bolt. Sweat beaded on Ian's forehead, dampening his hairline. As he swallowed, she could see his pulse through the vein in his neck. He was terrified. And it didn't take a genius to figure out why. Those sounds brought back enough horrific memories to last a lifetime, she was sure. Her heart gave a painful squeeze. This big, solid man had demons, ones he was trying like hell to fight.