Saving You (5 page)

Lucy didn’t learn Isaiah had passed until
three months after his funeral, when his mother finally got around
to writing Lucy an email with directions to the gravesite—and a
confession that she’d never thought Pottsville trash like Lucy was
good enough for her son to begin with.

Lucy had gone to visit Isaiah’s grave and
cried on the tiny sprigs of grass already pushing up through the
dirt, but it was too late for the tears to have any cathartic
effect. The boy she’d loved was gone and she’d never even gotten to
say goodbye. It had left a hole in her heart, a wound that stayed
raw, open, and bleeding quietly inside of her for months after.

Losing Isaiah had been as responsible for
Lucy needing to shut down her intuitive abilities as the body she’d
found in the woods. After learning he was gone, she hadn’t been
able to handle other people’s problems. Her own pain already felt
unmanageable.

But it had been almost a year since that
visit to Isaiah’s grave and months since she’d moved back home. It
was time to stop existing and start living, to stop watching the
people she cared about take the stage, while she sat in the
audience, hiding in the anonymous darkness. Isaiah wouldn’t have
wanted her to cocoon herself in her misery. He would have wanted
her to grieve, heal, and move on.

Fear, pain, old wounds, and troubled
feelings aside, Lucy knew she shouldn’t let a chance to meet
someone interesting slip through her fingers. For the first time in
ages, she felt something when she looked at a man, a curiosity that
made her toes tingle as she watched Brandon lift his arms into the
air and begin to move to the music.

She finally felt ready to dance, too, and
she didn’t want to dance alone.

Taking a deep breath, Lucy tightened her
pigtails, slugged down the last of her Lady Slipper—hoping the
fizzy pink drink would help her courage hold until she reached
Brandon and the rest of her group—and slid out of the booth. She
crossed the dance floor on trembling legs, weaving between the
reeling couples dancing around the outer edges before joining the
men and women dancing in the center.

And then she slid into an open spot across
from Brandon, gave him a big smile, and let the music take her
away.

Lucy had been accused of being many things
in her life—eccentric, quirky, prone to rashes after eating
strawberries, and just plain odd in her thoughts and habits—but an
inhibited dancer had never been one of them. She danced like the
devil was playing his fiddle just for her, like the world was about
to end and her life depended on giving her body up to the music and
letting the sparks of her soul fly out her fingertips as she dipped
and writhed and spun.

At first, Brandon didn’t seem to know quite
how to take her unbridled enthusiasm, but after a few moments he
began to mirror her movements, getting into the groove nearly as
much as she was. He was—surprisingly—an amazing dancer, and moved
with a confidence and control she wouldn’t have expected in a man
of so few words.

But so far Brandon was full of surprises,
and proving to be way more interesting than she’d given him credit
for.

By the time the first song ended and another
began, they were moving in harmony. By the end of the second song,
Lucy was giggling with the joy that came from letting loose, and by
the end of the third song—when the band broke into a bluesy
ballad—she was ready to step into Brandon’s arms.

She went to him, threading her fingers
together behind his neck, smiling up into his gray-blue eyes as his
arms went to her waist and pulled her close.

“
You’re a great dancer,” he
said, only slightly out of breath. “Really amazing.”

“
Thanks, you too,” she
said, panting, deciding she needed to add jogging to her list of
things to get back to doing on a regular basis. “I’m glad you’re
here.”

“
Yeah?” Brandon’s pale
brows lifted, but his expression remained guarded.

Lucy nodded. “I’ve been thinking about what
you asked me yesterday and…you were right. I was discriminating,
and that was a jerk move.”

Brandon lifted one broad shoulder, making
Lucy aware of the thick muscles beneath his black tee shirt. “It’s
okay. I may be six years younger than you are, but I’m a big boy,
Lucy. We can still be friends. It’s no big deal.”

“
But what if I…don’t want
to be friends?” Lucy said, heart slamming against her ribs, this
getting-back-to-living stuff scarier than she’d thought it would
be.

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“
I mean…maybe eating pizza
together sounds like a good idea, after all.”

Brandon blinked, watching her for a long
moment before his lips curved gently. “Oh. Okay. Well…I like you,
and I like pizza, so…”

Lucy smiled. “So you’ll give me another shot
at that date?”

“
On one condition,” he
said, his eyes smokier than they were a moment before.

“
What’s that?” Lucy met his
gaze, awareness tickling through her belly for the first time in
over a year.

In black skinny jeans, purple converse, and
a faded Heart concert tee, she was the least dressed up of the
members of the bachelorette party, but you wouldn’t know it from
the way Brandon was looking at her. He looked at her like she was
something special, like she was five foot two inches of cool
lemonade and he a man with a lemon and sugar fetish.

“
We seal the deal with a
kiss,” he said, leaning down until their faces were only a few
inches apart.

But he was so much taller than she was,
there was no way he’d be able to get that kiss without her
cooperation. Lucy was going to have to play her part.

Before she could second-guess the wisdom of
making out with a guy in front of her bosses and half his work
buddies, Lucy pushed up onto tiptoe, sneakers squeaking as she
brought her lips to Brandon’s.

The moment their mouths connected, she knew
this hadn’t been a mistake. Her first taste of him made her heart
flutter, her second made her feel like the north end of a magnet
finding its southern pole, and the third made her soul feel like it
was shooting out rays of light.

She felt connected to the world and
everything in it, a part of the seamless dance of life and death in
a way she hadn’t been since she shut down the part of herself that
had always made her feel empathy with creation. But now, she was
back in tune and humming on the perfect frequency.

Kissing Brandon was more than wonderful or
sexy or right. It was all of those things, but it was also a
confirmation kiss, a kiss unlike any she’d shared except with
Isaiah years ago.

The night she’d first
kissed Isaiah, she’d known that they were going to fall hard for
each other. It didn’t matter that they’d met ten minutes before or
that the bulk of their conversation had been shouted over a
Grass Mama
song so loud
Lucy’s ears had rung for days afterward. She hadn’t doubted the
truth of the feeling that suffused her when her lips met Isaiah’s
for a moment.

And now, she’d found it again. A kiss that
proved that love was out there and a particular man was meant just
for her. She’d never dreamed she and Brandon would be something
special, but now she thanked God she’d found her way into his arms.
She couldn’t wait to know him better, to fall in love for the
second time knowing this might be the person she’d get to keep.
Forever.

Lucy relished the delicious feeling coursing
beneath her skin, smiling against Brandon’s lips as their kiss grew
deeper, more intimate, and so sexy Lucy would have been tempted to
climb him like a tree, wrap her legs around his narrow waist, and
take things to the next level if they hadn’t been in the middle of
the dance floor, surrounded by friends and co-workers—and if the
darkness that had been hovering around her for the past two days
hadn’t picked that moment to sweep in, cooling her blood faster
than ice cubes plunked into a glass of sweet tea.

She saw rushing water, felt the cold as it
closed over her head, and terror coursing through her body, but
beyond that the vision was murky. But she knew this was the reason
for the feeling of foreboding that had haunted her for days, and
that someone was going to die—and soon—if she didn’t do something
to stop what she’d seen from happening.

Lucy pulled her mouth from Brandon’s, the
vision fading as she opened her eyes. “I saw something,” she said,
her breath coming fast.

What if she lost Brandon before they’d had a
chance to get started, what if he was the person who was going to
die. It made sense—why else would she have had the vision while
they were kissing?

She didn’t know, but she knew she wasn’t
going to let anything happen to him, not when she’d just realized
they were meant to be.

“
Can we get out of here? Go
to your place, maybe?” she asked, hurrying on when his eyes
widened. “I don’t mean to…you know. Though I’d like to do that
before too long, but…” She took a deep breath. “I know this might
sound crazy, but I had a vision and I think you might be in
danger.”

Brandon frowned, but his arms stayed tight
around her. “What kind of danger?”

“
I saw water and felt cold
as someone went under,” Lucy said. “And I think that someone is
you. Back when I worked for the APD, I would touch objects that had
significance to the case to get a bead on the people involved. If
you’re the one who’s going to be in trouble, it makes sense that
kissing you might have triggered the vision.”

Brandon frowned harder and for a frantic
moment Lucy was afraid he would tell her she was crazy and walk
away, but then he nodded and said—

“
I’ll go get my truck and
pull up to the front door. That way you won’t get too
wet.”

Lucy sighed with relief. “Thank you so
much.”

Brandon smiled. “Thank you. For the kiss
and…for wanting to watch out for me.”

“
No problem.” Lucy said,
silently adding,
always
, as he took her hand and led her across the dance
floor.

Her heart had finally woken up and she
wasn’t letting anything put it back to sleep, not wind or rain or a
hundred forbidding visions.

Chapter Five

By the time Faith stumbled into her
apartment a little after midnight, her heels were blistered from
dancing in her galoshes, her skin was sticky with sweat, and her
mascara had started to run from a combination of laughing until she
cried and getting soaked as she dashed through the rain to her
apartment’s front door.

She was certain she looked a wreck, but she
couldn’t remember the last time she’d had that much fun with a
group of women.

“
How did it go?” Mick
asked, grinning up at her from the couch where he and Captain
Snugglepants, the cat, were ensconced with a fleece blanket and
every remote control in the house, watching a fishing show that
Mick shut off as she closed the door behind her.

“
I had the best time,”
Faith said, struggling out of her shoes. “I laughed my head off,
and danced for hours, and actually
enjoyed
it.”

“
No.” Mick’s eyes widened.
“You’re kidding me.”

Faith shook her head.
“Nope. I shook my groove thing like it was my job, dude.
My job
.”

He chuckled. “Does this mean you’re going to
make me dance more than one dance at the reception?”

Faith circled around the couch to collapse
next to him with a heavy sigh. “Nah. I’ll probably decide I hate
dancing again by then.”

“
I hope not,” Mick said,
sliding his arm around her and pulling her close. “I’d like to see
you shake your groove thing like it’s your job.”

Faith glanced up at him, narrowing her eyes.
“Speaking of groove things, how did the bachelor party go?”

Mick shrugged. “We played poker and ate
wings and drank a little too much beer. Nothing eventful.”

“
No surprise strippers?”
she asked.

“
There was a boob cake, but
no strippers,” Mick said. “I made the guys promise not to hire any.
Female strippers are depressing.”

“
Male strippers are
hysterical,” Faith said, giggling. “I laughed so hard I
cried.”

Mick grinned. “I know. Maddie texted me. She
was so glad you were having a good time.”

“
She’s so nice,” Faith
said. “I’ve never had anyone throw me a big party like that. Not
even on my birthday when I was a kid. Mom and I always just went
over to my cousins’ house to BBQ and eat a cake my aunt made from a
box.”

“
You deserved a big party.
I’m glad you had fun.” Mick leaned in to kiss the top of her hair,
then her temple, before his lips began to trail down her neck,
making her heart beat faster.

“
I did,” Faith said,
smiling as she shifted in his arms, bringing her lips a whisper
away from his. “But I’m still up for more fun.”

“
I was hoping you would say
that,” Mick said, a husky note in his voice as he reached over,
hooking his hand under her left knee and pulling her up and over to
straddle him on the couch.

Captain Snugglepants leapt from the cushions
with an irritable yeowl and dashed for the kitchen like he was
being chased by a pack of rabid dogs.

Faith chuckled. “I think we’re traumatizing
the cat with the constant banging,” she said as Mick’s hands
settled on her hips, drawing her closer.

“
We close the door to the
bedroom most of the time,” Mick said, his warm palms slipping up
the back of her silver tank top to caress her bare skin. “Besides,
I warned him earlier that I’d be making a play for you as soon as
you walked in the door. I can’t be expected to resist you in this
shirt.”