Sidewalk Flower (4 page)

Huh?
 
No, he had tried to kiss her.
 
Nice try.
 
“At
what?
 
My teeth?
 
You know what?
 
It’s no big deal.”
 
An intense desire to turn away from him
boiled her blood but she refused to let him know she’d been curious of what
such a sudden and unexpected kiss would feel like coming from her best friend’s
cousin.

Sincerity like she hadn’t seen in a long
time stared at her.
 
“Your
eyes.
 
They remind me of my
mother’s.”

“Oh.”
 
It was the least she could say in the face of all that…regret?
 
“Thank you.”
 
She stumbled over what else to share.
 
He had morphed so quickly from stranger to guest that she didn’t know if
their timing would ever be right.
 
One always ahead of the other and one behind.

The dew coating their rock seats had
begun to soak through her thin dress and she was fairly certain things were
done for the night.
 
At his nodding in
apparent agreement, she gathered the bottom of her short dress and tucked it
along the back of her thighs, lifting up from the large stone.
 
Him
reaching out his
hand to help her the rest of the way up was such a foreign notion that she
faltered.
 
One unbalanced step she took
toward accepting his offer sent her right down into the pile of rocks.
 

“Ow!”
 
That was smooth.
 
“Dang it.”

Lucky knelt down to help her up.
 
The only thing he was getting was the bend of
her elbow because that burning gouge she could already feel heating up was
staying protectively hidden behind her back.
 

“Let me see, Trista.”

“No thanks.
 
Let’s just go inside.”

The long, tall Tennessean took up a solid
stance blocking her way to Gramma’s porch steps.
 
“Please.
 
I just wanna take a look.
 
You
don’t want to drip blood all over your grandma’s floor, do you?”
 

How did he know it was bleeding?
 
She glanced back at the enemy clan of rocks
and saw there was indeed a half of a hand-print outlined in dark wet goo.
 
Her palm throbbed behind her back and she
knew she had to give in.
 
No way would
she bloody Gramma’s rugs.
 
She jutted it
toward him for inspection.

With a quick glance around, he found
Gramma’s watering jug that had caught the previous night’s rainfall and rinsed
the wound with it.
 
She tried to hold it
steady for him but appreciation for what he was doing sucked out all her tough
girl grit.
 
He then went for a handful of
packed soil from a nearby planter and applied it gently over the shredded
layers of skin.
 
He grabbed her uninjured
hand and placed it on top of the mound.
 
“Hold your hands together like you’re flattening out a hamburger
patty.
 
Keep it packed tight.
 
I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she whispered.
 
He disappeared.
 
Where was he going?
 
To the woods to find tree
sap to seal the wound?
 
Did it
matter?
 
No.
 
As long as he came back.
 
That was what she wanted.
 
For him to come back
and…hold her hand.
 

“Here we go.”
 
Lucky took her cupped hands and pried them
open, then brushed off the clumped soil.
 
He used the last of the rainwater from Gramma’s jug to rinse her palm
again.
 
Then he did his best to blot it
clean and dry with the bottom of his baby blue shirt.
 

“Where did you go just now?”

“Huh?”
 
He continued to blot at her wound.
 
“Oh, I was just looking for something soft.”
 
He glanced down.

That was why he’d used his shirt.
 
His pretty blue one that
had worked to calm her again.
 
She’d get him a new one in town tomorrow.
 

“Well, I think
that’s
as good as I’m gonna get
it out here.
 
We should go inside and clean it for real.”

She was staring.
 
The girl who played with boys but was never
fazed by them was staring at him like he was her guardian angel and she was his
beauty school dropout.
 
This was so
wrong.
 
Instantly she needed to be Trista
Hart, tough as nails assistant to Jaxon James and the crude guys of Sin
Pointe.
 
Able to strut
her way into any VIP club’s backroom and snatch the guys out before they
damaged themselves too badly.
 

She wiped her hand roughly against her
dress, gritting her teeth the whole while, and looked Lucky straight in the
eyes as she did so.
 
“Well go on in,
then.”

“Um, okay.
 
What’s that all about?” he asked, pointing to
her hurt hand, not following her lead up the steps yet.
   

“You would never understand, Lucky.
 
And it’s late.”

“Hold on a second.
 
Did I do something wrong again?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
 
And crap, her voice had just cracked.
 
She flung her arm in a hasty and not-smart
move to turn and stomp up the stairs.
 
As
it swung, her hand caught on the railing.
 
“Ow!”
 

Lucky was there in a second, soaking up
the fresh flow of blood onto his shirt again.
 
“Geez, Trista.”

That was apparently all he could
say.
 
She realized he might even be
thinking of catching a ride to California with a non-crazy person at this
point.
 
Which was
entirely for the best.
 
For both of them.
 
A
vision of laying flowers at her momma’s side of the grave while spitting curses
at the other half while golden and happy Lucky stood behind her just didn’t sit
well.

“There.
 
Now you can go inside,” he said solemnly.

He’d stopped the bleeding, again.
 
Unfortunately, she was wound so tight that he
wouldn’t be getting another thank you out of her tonight.

Before they made it inside, he paused and
put his hands on his hips.
 
“Wait, can I
just ask you something first?”

With a huff, she answered him
hastily.
 
“What?”

“What exactly did I do to you
tonight?
 
I mean, aside from trying to
hold your hand, which I get, is apparently the grossest thing a guy could do to
a girl.”
 
Then under his breath, “Jaxon
didn’t mention you were this upset.”

Yep.
 
There it was.
 
The explanation for
why Lucky was being so “nice” to her.

“What exactly did Jaxon say about me?”

Lucky just shook his head as if he’d
suddenly fallen to a severe case of amnesia.
 
“Nothing bad.”

“Lucky.”
 
Keep the hurt in the pit of your
stomach, Trista
.
 
Don’t let him see it.
 
“Tell me what Jaxon told you.”

Angry betrayal at what Jaxon might have
disclosed to his cousin made her sore hand explode with more
sting
.

In another move she had no instinctive
response for, Lucky took her torn up hand into his and held it gently.
 
“He said you needed a friend.
 
That he didn’t want you to be alone on this
trip.
 
And that I better take good care
of you.”
 
He carefully wiped at a smudge
of dirt that hadn’t been rinsed away.
 
“That’s all I’m trying to do, I swear.”
 

She could strangle Jaxon for his loose
lips.

Without reason that would make sense to
anyone in this trailer park, she looked him straight in the eyes and did what
had to be done.
 
She had to be the one in
control here.
 
Not Jaxon, not Lucky.
 
Her.
 

If surprise had a taste, it would be his
lips as she pulled his head down and kissed him.

* * * *

Her two
insistent
 
hands
pressed against the back of his
neck like she was forcing him to do this.
 
It was cute.
 
Yeah, she was dead
wrong.
 
He’d wanted to kiss her since
he’d first seen her, hopping down out of that girly silver Jeep.
 
But he knew better.
 
Earning something you wanted took more than a
few hours.
 
And if he’d gathered anything
from her hot and cold responses so far, it was that Jaxon’s vague but
deliberate warning that he take good care of her hadn’t been just puffed up,
ego talk.
 

This girl was in trouble.

He should have stepped away for both
their sakes.
 
He knew he didn’t deserve
this kind of kiss, not yet.
 
But
California was glued to him on full speed and didn’t appear to have a pause,
let alone a rewind button.
 
On second
thought, he’d let her get this out of her system and then they’d start
over.
 

Her hand had to be killing her, so he
managed to pull it down and keep it tucked at her side.
 
But the other one was petting those hairs at
the back of his neck, leaving him seconds away from coming undone.
 
If he clenched his jaw any tighter, those
painful yet ticklish sensations shooting throughout his upper body would
without a doubt get him into trouble down below.
 
Heck, if he squeezed her in his arms like he
wanted to, she’d feel how aroused he’d let himself get.
 
He worked his jaw to ease away from the pain,
wishing he could let go entirely and enjoy her touch. Yep, their fresh start
was gonna have to wait until she was done proving her point.
 
Cute girl though.

* * * *

His lips were soft and salty like he’d
worked up a sweat at some point during the day.
 
Crap, again she cursed his damn tempting bloodline.
 
This would only complicate their pending trip
even more.
 
So naturally, when he smartly
pulled her one hand away, she found a sweet spot of baby hairs with the other
and went for more.
 
Her
rules—that was the only way to play with the boys and stay safe.
 

Lucky’s hands eventually cupped the sides
of her face, which was fine because she had made her point.

“Are we okay?” he asked.

Well, hell if she knew.
 
“Yes,” she said.
 
They could figure the truth out later.
 
There would be an endless amount of open road
ahead of them come Sunday to think.
 
Tonight was desperate Friday.
 
“We’re good.”
 
But she hesitated
because he looked for a moment like he may have regretted things. When he
coughed and cleared his throat, she was sure of it.
 

“Come on, Miss ‘We’re Good’,” he said, as
he urged
her the
rest of the way to the back
door.
 
“I’d like to keep that promise I
made Jaxon.
 
You could go a little easier
on me from here on out.”
  

The inside of her mouth remained warm
from their kiss as she swallowed a cool breath of air.
 
The contrasting temperatures left her with a
chill and a memory—the taste of the last kiss she’d had.
 
Cigarettes and beer.
 
No hand holding.
 
No talking.
 
No first, second or third date.
 
As badly as her sour heart warned her to throw Lucky in with that lot,
she just couldn’t do it.
 
He’d already
taken more care of her than any other guy she’d known.
 

“You shouldn’t take things so
personally.”
 
At his wince, she
splintered and added, “I know you didn’t sign up for this; I’ll try to
be…better.”
 
No promises though.