My Lucky Days: A Novel (7 page)

We walked side by side to his truck as Lucky held my hand. He stopped by the passenger’s side, opening the door for me.

“Thank you.”

His hand let go of mine and lingered on my waist as I climbed inside. Lucky shut the door and went around to the driver’s side, climbing in the truck. As he started the motor, I noticed the way his shirt clung to his biceps as he shifted the stick into gear. And the way his jeans fit tight around his thighs. There really was something incredibly intriguing about the way he wore his jeans.

Crap. I was becoming Peyton. I glanced up, only to find Lucky watching me, watching him.

“So . . .” I smiled, feeling embarrassed. “What are we doing tonight?”

“Is there anything you don’t like to eat?”

“No. Well, raisins. I hate raisins.”

“Damn. Well, that ruins my plans. I was taking you to that new all-you-can-eat raisin café.”

I burst out laughing. “You are impossible.”

He gave me a sweet grin. “Have you been to the new Italian restaurant, Marcella’s?”

“No.”

He pulled the truck out into the street. “I thought we could go there. And then maybe bowling. You know. Normal second-date stuff.”

“Sounds good. But for the record, I’m not very good at bowling.”

He glanced over as we cleared the intersection. “Then I’ll teach you.”

“Okay. Does that mean you’re good?”

He shrugged.

“Are you better at bowling or singing?”

“Well, that depends. How good of a singer do you think I am?”

I laughed. “Stop fishing for compliments.”

“I wasn’t.” He smirked. “You asked.”

“Then I guess I will decide after I see you play.”

Dinner was good. He told me more about working for his brother. Colt owned a building company that had become pretty successful. He specialized in custom houses. The company had a crew for the major structural side while Colt still did the interior cabinets, staircases, and crown molding.

When Lucky was in town, he helped his brother in whatever capacity was needed at the time. Sometimes it meant pitching in when the crew ran behind on projects. He had put shingles on houses and finished out landscaping. And once he worked twenty-six hours straight, putting up drywall.

After dinner, we climbed in his truck and drove over to the bowling alley. I had never been to the place. Following him inside the front door, I paused, seeing only a few lights around the counter. The rest of the place was almost pitch black. “Why is it so dark in here?”

“You’ll see.”

We went over to the counter and the lady came to get our shoe sizes. “Lucky. Oh, honey, I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, Claire.”

She patted his hand as it rested on the stained white counter. “So how’s your mama?”

“She’s great. Colt’s company has been keeping her pretty busy.”

“That’s good.” She looked over in my direction and her blue eyes lit up bright. I thought for a second she was going to lean over the counter and grab me in a big hug. “What size can I get you, honey?”

“I guess a seven.”

“Sure thing. You still an eleven, Lucky?”

“Yeah.”

I absently shook my head, knowing I was about to be killed in bowling. He knew the owner. She knew his size.

“Here you go. And tell your mama I said hello.”

“I will.” He flashed her one of his flirty grins. “Good to see you.”

He handed me my shoes as I arched an eyebrow at him. “Come here much?”

“Not anymore. But I used to.”

Lucky grabbed my hand, leading me through the dimly lit room that smelled of old shoes and popcorn. And then I started laughing as my sweater lit up like a ghost under the black lights. “Okay. It makes sense now. Glow-in-the-dark bowling.”

He smiled, flashing the white halo of his teeth. “Come on. I’ll help you pick out a ball.”

I chose a bright-pink ball that almost glistened under the lights. He carried it and his heavier green one to our lane. We traded out our boots for the blue and white shoes. The laces glowed florescent as I tied the bow.

Lucky set up the computer with our names and then grinned at me. “You’re going first. Let’s see what you got.”

I slipped my fingers inside the holes, feeling a little nervous. I was going to suck. And then he would try to teach me. And then I would still suck. I’d never been very good at any type of sport.

That’s what happened when you moved from town to town. I was never in one place long enough to join a softball team or basketball team. Most of those were in midseason when I arrived. And they had their roster set in place. No one wanted to teach a girl the correct way to dribble a ball when they had an upcoming game.

Walking across the dimly lit wooden deck, I stopped at the edge of the lane. I threw my arm back and tossed the ball in front of me. It hit the ground with a loud thud and immediately rolled into the gutter.

Letting out a frustrated breath, I went to retrieve the ball from the rack, but Lucky came over and grabbed mine before I could get it. “Let’s try this again. I’ll help you.”

“Just warning you, this might be a hopeless situation.”

“Now don’t go into it with that attitude. Visualizing is half the lesson. You have to picture the ball hitting the pins before it happens. You have to believe.”

I burst out laughing. “I think you might be crazy. You think I pictured the ball rolling into the gutter so it went there like some Jedi mind trick?”

“Yes. Now come on.”

I followed him back out to the lane. He stopped a few feet away from the edge. “Now watch. Learn to pace your steps. Don’t swing back all crazy behind you. Keep it at your leg. Keep your wrist straight. And don’t look at the damn gutter.”

He handed the ball over to me. I tried to line it up, but my arm flung back with the weight of the ball. Lucky came up behind me. “Do it like this?”

His chest pressed into my back. His thighs touched my butt. Running a hand down my arm, he wrapped his fingers around my wrist.

“Just a small swing.” His breath was next to my ear. “Not any bigger than this.”

He moved my arm, but I was distracted by the way his body felt against me. It was intimate and familiar even though he had never touched me that way before tonight. I let myself relax into him. Lucky stopped moving my right arm while his left hand curved around my waist, pulling me tighter against his body. I liked how this felt. I liked how he felt.

He whispered in my ear. “You even smell pretty.”

The comment sent little flutters through my stomach. I couldn’t see his face and he couldn’t see mine, which was good because I think my face was pink enough to glow under the black lights.

Lucky moved my arm with the ball a few more times. His voice was low and steady. “Picture the center pin. Picture the ball leaving your hand. Picture it knocking down the pins.”

Letting out a deep breath, I stepped out of his embrace and turned to face him. His lips curled into a half grin. “You ready?”

I nodded. “I think so. Let’s give this so-called Jedi mind trick a shot.”

“Don’t doubt The Force, or it will turn on you.” He smirked and went back to his seat.

I tried to replicate his steps, but it didn’t feel quite the same without his body against mine. The ball veered a little to the right and struck one pin.

I let out a deep breath, feeling embarrassed. Walking slowly back to my seat, I tried to act calm. “Your turn.”

Lucky grabbed his green ball, walking casually out to the lane. Before I could even process what had happened, he threw the ball and hit a strike. He came back to our seats, glancing my way. “Your turn.”

I went a few more rounds, throwing some in the gutter and making contact with a few pins. Lucky threw a strike almost every round. And when he didn’t, he always cleaned up on the second throw.

About halfway through the game, I looked up at the scoreboard, checking to see how badly he was crushing me. Lucky wasn’t even trying to let me win. It didn’t bother me—I just thought it was funny. Of course he would be good at bowling. I’m sure he was probably good at everything he touched.

“Don’t look at the score. Visualize it, Katie. It’s all in your head.”

“Well, I’ve made up my mind. I think you are better at bowling than singing.”

“Wow. You really went there. That’s brutal.” His eyes got wide as he laughed. Reaching over, he patted my thigh. “Go kick my ass out there so I don’t have to pick a new career.”

I gave him a serious face. “Okay.”

Grabbing my pink ball, I went back out to the lane. I visualized. I pictured only the pins. I held my breath as the ball rolled down the wooden lane. The pins fell like dominoes, leaving the one in the back corner. It rocked back and forth, back and forth—and then
bam
!

Holy crap.
It worked.

I jumped in the air and practically ran over to Lucky. He high-fived me with both hands and then in a quick move, his arms slipped around my waist, pulling me to his chest.

And then he kissed me.

It wasn’t for very long. His soft lips brushed against mine for a brief moment. Lucky left his arms around me, flashing a slow smile just a few inches from my mouth.

The warmth of his chest bled through my sweater as a rush of feelings swept through my body. I wanted him to kiss me again. A real kiss. A deep kiss with tongues and gasps for breath. The thoughts filled my head as my body responded to the feel of him against me.

I struggled to find my words. “So I guess you decided to use your one good-night kiss early.”

“You’re funny.” He laughed and kissed my cheek before letting me go. I watched his backside as he pulled his bowling ball from the rack.

He did another effortless throw, knocking all the pins down again. As we continued, Lucky never faltered, but I was getting better by the time we finished the game.

As we walked out to his truck, Lucky held my hand. “A few more games, and I think you could be a badass.”

“I wouldn’t mind beating you.”

He laughed. “That would be pretty hot, I think.”

“Hot?”

“Yep. Really hot.” He pulled me closer, putting his arm around my waist. I was getting used to the way he casually touched me, always keeping me pulled into his world. His space.

I looked up at him, seeing the teasing glint in his eyes. “So how did you get so good?”

He didn’t answer immediately as we continued to walk across the gravel parking lot. “Did I tell you my mama is an elementary school teacher?”

“No.” But his reaction to my career choice suddenly made sense.

“Teaches second grade. But she’s always needed side jobs too. When I was growing up, she cleaned businesses for extra money. One of them was the bowling alley. You met Claire. She and her husband Ray have owned the place forever. He died a couple of years ago. But back when my mama used to clean, Ray would teach me to bowl.”

“Sounds like he was a really nice man.”

“He was, and I feel bad. I haven’t been here much since he died. It’s hard to play without Ray. So thank you for coming tonight. You made it fun.”

My eyes watered up a bit. I assumed Ray was just one of the many people who had become his surrogate family. I swallowed the knot in my throat. “Well, you should have told me I was playing a child prodigy.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Lucky held the truck door open as I climbed inside. He went around to his side. The engine fired up rough and he waited for it to warm up before leaving the parking lot.

“So who taught you to play guitar?”

“Wally Knox.” He glanced over at me. “You know who that is?”

“No. Should I?”

“Some people do. He played for some of the bigger country acts. But that was a few years ago. He’s close to ninety now and his only reoccurring gig is Sunday mornings at the eight a.m. service.”

I smiled. “And he taught you as your mom cleaned the church.”

“It started that way, and then I took lessons from him for years.”

“I take it that I didn’t get to see you really play the other night.”

He shrugged, before shifting the truck into gear.

L
ucky parked in the driveway, turning off the motor. He unbuckled his seatbelt but didn’t get out of the truck. Reaching across the seat, he took my hand. “Come over here.”