Sheer Luck (13 page)

After the session ended, I’d caught up with
her and introduced myself. It hadn’t been attraction guiding me,
though she was pretty, but rather an urgent need to
know
her. Turned out, her husband had just died in a car accident.
Judging by the bruises peeking out from under her sleeves and over
the collar of her shirt, she’d been in the car with him. It struck
me, as we’d stood by the door, how young we were. I’d only been
twenty-two at the time, her twenty, and yet the weight of life’s
tragedy had shrouded us both.

We’d gone for coffee, had spent two hours
talking. She’d mentioned her husband had no life insurance and was
worried about making ends meet. He hadn’t wanted her to work and
she’d barely gotten a high school diploma. And there I was, a lost,
single dad needing help.

She’d come to the house the very next day,
had been my rock ever since. She’d all but helped me raise Liam.
Hands down, she was my best friend and, besides Declan, my only
saving grace. We’d become a garbled, twisted sort of family.
Somewhere along the way, I’d grown to desire her. Madly. Achingly.
It consumed with white-hot flames and, yet, we could never be
anything but stolen glances and forgotten hope. If not for her, I’d
be nothing but shadows. More than that, she’d been the only mother
my dear Liam had ever known.

Now that she was done with classes, she’d
surely be moving on. Pain pushed against my ribs, but I ignored it
and whispered her name.

She didn’t stir, so I lightly ran my hand
over her shoulder and called her again. She had a terrible startle
reflex and I’d learned to tread carefully. I had suspicions on why
this was, why I still caught her flinching at occasional touches,
but she’d never confirmed the reason and something innate told me I
might go homicidal if she did.

“Hey, Sierra.”

Sucking in a breath, she stretched. Wait for
it.

Three, two, one...

Her lids lifted and her gaze landed on me.
Fuck me. Those eyes.

And again. Three, two, one...

Hell. That sleepy smile. Slayed me dead
every time.

“Hi.” Nudging the blanket aside, she sat up
and pushed her hair off her face. “You just get home?” She scooted
to the edge of the cushion until our knees bumped.

I nodded.

She wore a yellow V-neck T-shirt that fit
her like second skin and well-worn jeans. Bare feet. Pink toenails.
Adorable, that. Her body was curvy, bordering on plump, and it
stirred my need to touch. I preferred women who had something to
grab onto and sink into versus slim frames I’d feel like I was
breaking. Then again, it had been years since I’d bedded a woman,
so who knew anymore?

“Congratulations, again. You did it.”

She laughed, a soft sound that was both rich
and inviting. “I can’t believe it. I think I’m still in shock.”

“Believe it. I’m proud of you.”

Her mouth twisted like she might bring on
the tears. “Thank you. And thanks for the...” She waved toward the
kitchen. “That was really sweet of you and Liam. I don’t think I’ll
get all those balloons and flowers in my car.”

I scratched my jaw. “I’ll drop off whatever
you can’t fit tomorrow.” We often talked for a while when I got
home, but I struggled with what to say. All that came to mind was
wondering when she’d quit. “Any new job prospects yet?”

Her eyes rounded. “Um...the school got me a
couple interviews.” She looked away. “One is tomorrow and the other
Friday.” Her gaze whipped to mine. “But don’t worry, I’ll still be
here. Maybe we can work something out with Declan if I get the job.
You know, he could pick up Liam from school and I’d come after
work.”

I was shaking my head before she’d finished.
“You’re not working a full time job and staying up half the night
to help me out. You worked too hard to get to this point and you’ll
wear yourself out.” Christ, my gut hurt.

Her shoulders sagged and, damn, her eyes
filled with tears. “I don’t want to leave you guys. I mean, I’d
miss you and—“

“Hey.” I took her hand, flattening it
between my palms. “It’s not goodbye. We’re friends and you mean a
lot to Liam. We’ll still get together on weekends and holidays.”
Hell. I sounded like we were negotiating custody rights. “No way am
I letting you disappear from our lives.”

“Promise?” She wiped the wetness from her
cheeks with her free hand and sniffed.

Thing was, she didn’t have much family. No
matter what, I’d make sure she kept us. We’d become so integrated,
I didn’t know how we’d untangle anyway. “Promise. Now stop crying.
It freaks me out.”

True story. I’d never been comfortable with
tears, and Sierra’s took me from uneasiness to holy shit faster
than the Rams lost a playoff hope.

She laughed. “Okay, okay. Sorry.” She looked
down at our joined hands, letting out a shallow breath. “I was
dreading this day, you know? Excited to accomplish getting a
degree, but you guys have been my life for a long time.”

“We’ll keep being your life for as long as
you’ll have us. Getting another position won’t change that.” I
understood, though. Too well. So much so I was pretty sure I’d
developed an ulcer. “I bought you something.”

“What?” Her eyes flew wide, and she
straightened, dropping her hand from mine. “No. You’ve done enough
with the flowers and balloons.”

“Those were from Liam. This is from me.” I
reached into the breast pocket of my coat and pulled out a box.

She stared at it. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“I’m still your boss. I say yes. Might fire
you if you don’t take it, or write a terrible letter of
recommendation.” I wiggled the gift. “You know you want to.”

Christ. The nervous lip bite.

Finally, she took the box and opened it. She
stared at it a good five seconds before looking at me. “Pepper
spray?”

I barely held my grin in check. “Now that
you’re a social worker, you might have to visit some unsavory parts
of the city.” My smile slipped as shitty possibilities shoved
inside my head. “You will carry this with you at all times. I’m not
kidding.”

She dropped her forehead in her hands,
shoulders bouncing with a silent laugh. “Okay.” Sobering, she
lifted her head, tender gaze meeting mine. “One of the interviews
is for a hospital caseworker position. Thank you for this,
though.”

“That’s not your real gift, but I’m dead
serious on carrying that.” I pulled out the other, much smaller
box, wrapped with pink paper and a white bow. “This is your real
present.”

And...the lip bite.

She took it from me, breathing my name on a
sigh. What I wouldn’t give to hear that while she was in my bed.
She tore off the paper and lifted the lid, then made a sound
of...duress?

I lifted the charm bracelet from the box.
Sierra didn’t wear a lot of jewelry, so I went with simple. A thin
silver chain with a few charms—an L for Liam, a little heart to
represent hers as it was so damn big, a shamrock—shudder—because
she knew about the O’Leary curse, and a set of wings. I always told
her she could fly, but my secret meaning in that one was because
she was an angel. Mine.

Unclasping it, I fastened the bracelet
around her wrist and paused, my gaze focused on the way the silver
lay against her pale skin. My thumb stroked her inner wrist as if
it held a mind of its own. Heat infused my fingers from the touch,
sending a current through my veins. My breath stalled.

“Thank you. I love it.”

At her soft voice, I closed my eyes. She
leaned forward and wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her
very full breasts against me and filling my nose with her light
citrus scent. I’d have to buy a bottle of whatever shampoo or
lotion she used, just to take a hit now and again. Sighing, I
brought my arms around her, one hand buried in her hair, the other
just below the dip of her spine, grateful our lower bodies weren’t
connected lest she discover my reaction to her proximity. We didn’t
touch a whole heck of a lot, so these rare moments felled me.

She pulled away to kiss my cheek. Except, at
that exact moment, I turned my head to get a parting sniff of her
hair and...

The corners of our mouths met. We both
stilled, cheek to cheek.

Unable to bring in air, I hovered in a rigid
state of torture and shock, not nearly strong enough to pull away.
Her soft, soft skin brushed against my rough growth, causing a rasp
over her quivering breaths. She somehow pushed the pause button on
my heart. The sudden jarring made me close my eyes again for
equilibrium.

She trembled, and I had no way to know if it
was from desire or nerves, but I suddenly realized her hand was
clenching the collar of my coat. The other hand pressed over my
heart, the warmth seeping through my shirt. Mine were deep in her
hair. Her breath fanned my jaw, her lashes caressing my cheek.

“Sierra,
aingeal
.” Shit. Shouldn’t
have done that. Not just the term of endearment, which I’d never
used, but the actual speaking part. It caused my lips to brush hers
and all the blood in my body drained to appendages below the
belt.

“What does that word mean?”

I didn’t speak fluent Gaelic, but I knew
enough to get by. Declan had been better with the language than me.
“It mean angel.”

“Aiden,” she breathed, offering no
assistance in stopping the lunacy.

This. This was what dying felt like. And I
didn’t care.

She turned her head the slightest bit,
aligning our faces until we shared air. The tip of her nose brushed
mine. “Aiden.” A whimper.

Fuck it. I sealed my lips to hers.

Planets collided. Fault lines cracked. It
had been so damn long since I’d done this, even so much as kissed a
woman, that my wires got crossed and I fumbled. She’d not mentioned
a boyfriend in all the time I’d known her, either. I suspected it
had been just as long for her. Unsure, I titled my head, taking the
kiss deeper. She opened for me with the barest of encouragement and
I stroked my tongue against hers, explored the cavern of her
mouth.

Christ. I’d forgotten what this felt like,
had convinced myself I could go without it. The punch-drunk
sensation heated my skin, amped my pulse, shifted in my gut. I
dropped to my knees between her thighs, never taking my mouth from
hers, and grabbed her hips to yank her flush against me.

A needy noise hummed from her throat and her
tentativeness evaporated. One leg wrapped around my thigh. Her
fingers drove into my hair, clenching. My hand wound up under her
shirt, sliding up her spine and stopping over her bra.

For nine years I’d wondered what she’d feel
like, and my imagination didn’t compare to the real deal. Supple,
soft, warm. I traced her ribs, slid higher to cup her breast
through the lace. She was well-endowed and the expanse of my hand
barely covered her. She kissed me harder, urgency growing, and her
nipple beaded under my palm. I drove my other hand under her shirt
to cup both breasts while her nails raked my scalp.

A door opened down the hallway and we both
froze, tangled limbs and faces smashed.

Footsteps padded to the bathroom. Then the
toilet flushed and the door opened. Idiot that I was, I almost
called out for Liam to wash his hands, but Sierra covered my mouth
as if knowing what I was about to do. His bedroom door clicked shut
and I remained unmoving another beat before my mind reengaged.

Slowly, I slid my hands out from under her
shirt, righted the material, and rose to my feet. I backed into the
table, flinched, and stepped around it to expand the distance. Her
mouth was swollen and red, her cheeks pink from stubble burn, and
her dazed blues eyes were locked on mine. More than a little
surprise cleared the haze of lust as she stared at me.

Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck
.

I pressed my palms to my eyes and tilted my
head back. “Sierra, I...”

There were no words. None.

Silence hung. Followed by more silence.

Clothing rustled as if she were getting up.
I kept still, the guilt too much to bear. After a few seconds of
slight shuffles, I sensed her in front of me. Cool fingers wrapped
around my wrists and tugged my arms down. Forcing oxygen into my
lungs, I looked at her.

Calm, sad eyes met my gaze. “I’ve been
wanting you to do that for a long, long time, Aiden. Please, don’t
ruin the moment by regretting it.”

The air whooshed from my lungs.

She walked to the door, turned and offered a
sweet smile, then left.

N
eedless to say, I
hadn’t slept. I managed to drag myself out of bed and get Liam some
breakfast before my dad picked him up for their fishing trip. I
felt like shit for being so distracted that I’d hugged Liam nearly
eight times before I let him walk out the door.

Then, I’d stood in my living room, staring
into empty space until finally heading into the spare bedroom to
work out. A shower later and here I was, sitting in the hallway
outside Sierra’s apartment with a circus tent amount of balloons on
one side of me and flowers on the other. She hadn’t taken them home
last night, nor answered her door this morning. I remembered she’d
said she had an interview, so I waited her out.