Lucas Read online

  So I hold hard to my silence, hide my feelings, and make love to her slowly and with great care until we both come apart in each other's arms.

  --

  "Want me to go?" I whisper as we lay all tangled up in each other's arms. That orgasm wrecked us both and we've just been lying here pressed tightly to one another. My chin rests on her head and her face is pressed into my neck, where I can tell her breathing has evened out.

  Stephanie's arm around my stomach gets tighter and she murmurs, "No. Stay."

  A jolt of pure happiness races through me from head to toe. It's not the first time I've slept in bed with her all night, but it is the first time I feel like she wants me here for reasons other than she falls into an exhausted sleep because I fucked her so thoroughly.

  "Okay," I say quickly before she can change her mind, and she gives me a squeeze in return.

  "So, that was a trip today, huh?" she says softly, and I know exactly what she's talking about. Stephanie had to return to work after the doctor's appointment and I had to work out as well as do laundry and some other odds and ends like paying bills. But she'd invited me over and I came loaded with Italian subs and Cherry Garcia ice cream. We ate, we made love, but this is the first time we've talked about the doctor's appointment.

  "I can't believe how fast his heartbeat was," I tell her.

  She nods against me and I can actually feel her smile through her body into mine. "You said his. Wanting a boy?"

  "I don't care if it's a girl or a boy, just as long as it looks like you and not my ugly mug," I reply jokingly.

  Chuckling, she squeezes me again and I tighten my hold around her. "Your mug is the furthest thing from ugly."

  We fall silent but I want more. "What do you want?" I ask her.

  Stephanie doesn't respond right away and I sense in the sudden stillness of her body that she's trying to figure out how to word it. When she answers, my heart ripples almost painfully for all she never had. "What do I want? I guess I just...want. Doesn't matter what the gender is. I just want, and that's become terrifyingly real to me since this morning. Is that selfish?"

  "Nothing wrong with wanting," I tell her gently and as a reminder to stay true to her feelings. "It's human nature."

  And then I know Stephanie's had enough with the sharing as she pulls away from me and rolls to her back. "I got a job offer."

  My head pops up off the pillow in surprise and I roll to my side to look at her. Going up on my elbow, I notice her face is troubled as she stares at the ceiling.

  "In Greensboro?" I ask.

  She nods. "It's actually with an architectural firm and it's doing project planning."

  "But that's not your background," I say dumbly.

  Stephanie chuckles and rolls her head to look at me. "Yes, but there's not a lot of jobs in geology. I have project planning experience, though, and they think I'm trainable."

  Fuck. Just fuck.

  Stephanie moving to Greensboro means I lose her. It's hard enough with my schedule getting time to see her, but add her move to another city and it will be almost impossible. On top of that, she'll be getting her medical care there, and I will probably be cut out of many of the visits while the season is still going on.

  And fuck, what does that say about me that my first concern is losing her, the second losing out on the doctor's appointments?

  "What are you going to do?" I ask, my tongue thick and practically glued to the top of my mouth.

  She gives a tiny shrug of nonchalance, but her face remains troubled as she looks back to the ceiling. "I don't know what to do. It's a job. Nothing earth shattering. Pays about the same as the museum. I'd have to move, of course, but I've got savings to do that. It's doable..."

  She trails off, lets her last words hover.

  "But," I prompt her to continue.

  Her neck twists and her eyes come back to mine. "I feel like I need to be sensitive to your needs."

  "My needs?" I ask, because those are many and varied when it comes to Stephanie.

  She nods. "With the pregnancy. You want to be involved."

  "I do," I say softly. And I want you, but I won't say that. It would freak her out, and I'm not sure I really want to deal with the rejection I'd probably get back.

  Stephanie studies me, her eyes flickering with indecision, and then finally resolve. I brace for what she might say. "I don't think I want to deal with the hassle of a move. I don't want that type of stress."

  Disappointment as keen as a razor's edge cuts through me that she's not giving me the reasons I want, but I maintain a neutral expression.

  "Do you need help financially?" I ask hesitantly, because if she only wants to stay here to let me be involved with the pregnancy, I'll take that for sure.

  Her refusal is swift and adamant, and not surprising. "No. I have some other job prospects and the museum still might find a place for me. As long as I can get health insurance, things will be fine. And I've got a lot in savings."

  Prideful stubbornness. I get it, but still I have to make sure she understands she'll be taken care of regardless. "Stephanie...I'm sure you'll find something, but if you don't, I will absolutely help you until you get on your feet."

  I expect her to rebuke me, but I'm surprised when her eyes soften. She rolls her body to face me and places a hand on my chest. "You're sweet, Lucas. And you've been way cooler about all of this than I could have ever imagined. But I honestly can make it on my own."

  "Don't let your pride get in the way of help if that--"

  She cuts me off by pressing her fingers into my chest. "I have a lot in savings."

  My head tilts and my brows pull inward. "Define a lot."

  "As in I have extremely wealthy parents who have set up a modest trust fund for me," she says with a hint of bitterness in her voice. "That's how they love. With money. So I've got a cushion if I need it."

  "Have you ever needed it?" I ask curiously.

  "Not once," she says, and her eyes glow with pride, and fuck, I'm actually proud of her independent spirit too even though it completely destroyed her ability to let people in. "But I'll use it if I have to."

  Immediately relief makes my entire body practically melt into the mattress. She should absolutely use that money if she has to, and I'm glad she's not above doing it. If that's the only way her parents can be responsible for their child, then she should absolutely take advantage of it.

  I raise my hand and lightly grip her chin between my fingers. Leaning in, I brush my lips over hers and give my own reassurances. "If you don't want to use it, I'm here. I'll help, and you have to know, Stephanie, part of that is my responsibility. Keeping you safe and secure so our baby is safe and secure."

  She nods and gives me a small smile. "I appreciate that."

  But it's not necessary, is wholly implied.

  That's okay. I've got nothing but time for Stephanie to warm up to something more if that's what she might want to do.

  And I really hope that's what she wants to do. I'm not sure what the fuck has happened to me in the last several weeks, but I know I'm not the same Lucas Fournier that I was the night Stephanie and I first met. Funny how a little bean can change all that.

  "So what's going on with Simone?" Stephanie asks, and then laughs when I roll my eyes dramatically.

  "She's gone batshit crazy," I mutter as I pull her back into my arms while I talk. "Dropped out of school. Hasn't even been enrolled this past semester."

  "Did your parents know that?" she asks, and I'm fucking ecstatic when she doesn't pull away, but instead burrows in closer to me.

  I shake my head. "But they do now. I made her call them a few days ago when she showed up on my doorstep."

  "Assuming they weren't happy?"

  "They were pissed. They yelled at her for a good ten minutes, taking turns on the phone."

  "I can imagine," she says empathetically as she pulls back slightly to look me in the face. "How long will she be in the doghouse?"

  "She's already out
," I tell her, and watch as her eyes round with surprise.

  "Really?"

  "My parents love us unconditionally, no matter how bad we may screw up in life. And they just want us to be happy, so after they got over the anger, they talked to her about what direction she needs to take."

  Stephanie tilts her head, her eyes troubled. "They just let it go?"

  "Well, not sure they're letting it go," I say slowly. "They love her, and they even understand her, but they aren't letting her get away with it. She has to pay back the money they've spent if she doesn't complete her undergrad. And trust me when I say my parents will hold her feet to the fire on that."

  I get an amused chuckle and a shake of her head, making that glorious head of hair tumble over her shoulder and cover her breast as she says, "My parents would have handled that a little differently."

  "How?" I ask with interest, always wanting to learn more about those assholes so I can understand her even better.

  She settles back down into my embrace, placing her head on my chest. "There was a time in my teens when I was quite rebellious. You know, sort of acting out and such. When they were off traveling, I was content to stay home and be a good girl. But if they were 'in residence,' as they liked to call it, I'd often do whatever I could to piss them off."

  "Why?" I ask, thoroughly confused why anyone would intentionally poke a bear.

  "Because it was the only time I got attention," she says simply, and my heart breaks for her as understanding dawns. "Getting yelled at, being told I was a keen disappointment to the Frazier name, and that I would amount to nothing was way better than being ignored, as fucked up as that sounds. I was ignored so much those tiny snippets of actual attention from them is what sustained me."

  "Jesus," I hiss out in anger.

  Stephanie just shrugs. "It's not like they were abusive or anything."

  "That's fucking abuse," I growl, but it doesn't faze her. She knows it's abuse even if she tries to shrug it off.

  "It's what I was used to, and honestly, I adapted, Luc," she says softly, her hand coming to my arm, which she strokes almost as if she's comforting me.

  "You shut yourself off," I mutter, still bristling with hostility toward her parents.

  "And that's adaptation," she says matter-of-factly. "It's how I survived."

  Fuck, I goddamn hate her parents. I want to rail at them and tell them what selfish, evil bastards they are. But honestly, I'll probably never meet them according to Stephanie and how she thinks they'd react to the baby.

  "When are you going to tell your parents?" I ask her now that I'm thinking about it.

  She shrugs, her eyes dropping down where she picks at the edge of the sheet bunched around her waist. "I should probably get it over with."

  "We'll call them together," I reassure her. No way in hell I'm going to leave her alone while one of the greatest things to happen to her will be met with no enthusiasm and probably disdain.

  "What about your parents?" she asks, lifting her head up again to look at me.

  "Probably tomorrow," I tell her. "I wanted to give them a few days after Simone dropped the bomb on them."

  "But they won't be mad, right?"

  "They'll be stunned, but once that wears off they'll be thrilled," I tell her confidently. "Trust me on that."

  Stephanie smiles at me wistfully before she lies back down in my arms to snuggle. "That's nice."

  She's loose and relaxed, and it seems a perfect fit between the two of us. I decide to take advantage of it. "We have an afternoon game tomorrow."

  "Against the Cougars," she says, and I'm not surprised. Total Cold Fury fan.

  "Want to go to it?" I ask casually, and then I hold still to gauge her reaction.

  She's still settled and comfortable in my arms, which is a good sign. She doesn't even hesitate when she says, "Yeah, sure. That sounds like fun. Assuming tickets are available."

  I chuckle and squeeze her. "Trust me...you can get a ticket."

  She pulls up her head and looks at me in question.

  "Honestly, Stephy," I say with a tone of mock censure. "You're sleeping with a player for the Cold Fury. I think I can get you a ticket."

  "I don't want you to go to any trou--"

  My mouth hits hers and she's silenced immediately by the kiss I bestow upon her. When I release her lips, I run my nose along hers. "I have season tickets, Steph. Simone will use one tomorrow and you can have the other."

  Her answer is a tilt of her head, and then her mouth is back on mine for a deep kiss that sparks and then flares lust within my body. Just like that, I'm not tired at all and ready to go again. It's Stephanie's way of showing me that I made her happy and that she accepts my invitation to the game.

  My hand slides down to her ass, and I push my fingers through her legs to touch her wetness from behind. Stephanie moans into my mouth and my dick turns as hard as granite just from that tiny touch and her response.

  I had more to say to her, but this takes precedence. This will always take precedence because it's so fucking good. But after we're done and settled back in, and before I drift off to sleep, I need to remember to tell Stephanie she's mine for the rest of the day after the game. It's time she stepped out of this little bubble we've created together and I know she's ready, because she admitted yesterday this is no longer casual.

  Slowly but surely, I'll get her wanting more from me than just the best sex I know either of us has ever had. I can live with just that, but I don't want to, and I want her to want more too.

  Chapter 14

  Stephanie

  I follow Simone up to the front door of Lucas's house. I'm ashamed to admit it didn't take much for him to get me to come over after the hockey game, but I am not ashamed to admit I had a blast at the game. Simone was the perfect person to sit next to. She's wild, uninhibited in her enthusiasm, and generally made a spectacle of herself as she cheered on her brothers and heckled the other team. While they were very focused on their jobs when the puck was in play, they would sometimes cut their eyes her way as we sat in the front row right beside the penalty box and I could see they were amused at her antics.

  Well, most of them were. Van glared at her a lot.

  I'll also admit a little shamefully that I was a wee bit jealous that Lucas didn't look at me once. Not during warm-ups, not during commercial breaks, and not after the game was over and they skated off.

  Of course, the fact that Lucas was quite insistent I come over to his house after the game makes up for that little snub. He was so insistent about it this morning as I woke up with his hand between my legs and his mouth kissing my neck that he wouldn't let me climax until I agreed to spend the night at his house.

  What's a girl to do?

  Simone unlocks the door and I step inside behind her. I haven't been here since that first time three weeks ago after we had dinner at Max and Jules's house. Lucas has invited me a few times, but he's never pushed it. I assumed we always met at my place because he has a roommate and I don't. I also think that kept things very casual and in the realm of just a hookup. But tonight we're crossing more boundaries and I freely admit we're not just about hookups anymore.

  The Cold Fury kicked the Cougars' asses tonight. They have to be riding high as this last week of regular season play winds down and they gear up to meet the Florida Spartans in the first round of the play-offs a week from today.

  "I'll pull the steaks out of the fridge to season them up," Simone says over her shoulder as she drops her purse right in the middle of the living room floor, where she leaves it without a backward glance. "Any chance you know how to get the baked potatoes ready to fire up?"

  I laugh as I glance around the living room, which bears the mark of Hurricane Simone. There's a pillow and blanket on the couch, along with what looks like an empty bag of popcorn and three cans of soda on the table. She has some clothes slung over the back of the couch including a white lacy bra. "Yeah, I can handle the potatoes."

  "Oh shit," Simone says,
and I turn to look at her. She's watching me looking at the mess. "I thought I picked all that crap up before I left for the game."

  I grin as Simone starts grabbing the clothing and stuffing it behind the back cushion of the couch. It's not being hidden from anyone, as there's enough clothing back there that the cushion now sticks out.

  "Sucks not having any room for anything," she mutters.

  "Have you thought about getting your own place?" I ask her.

  "God, yes," she says with a huff of frustration. "But first things first. I need a job. Lucas has been really cool letting me stay here, but I need to totally get my own apartment."

  "I imagine it can't be all that fun living in a house with two stinky boys," I tease her as I walk into the kitchen and put my purse on the table. I expect Lucas and Van will be here within the next hour and we can have everything ready to go but the steaks on the grill, which Lucas said was his specialty and we were not to cook them.

  "No fun at all," she mutters again, but I don't comment on the apparent frustration in her voice because she's already back in the kitchen and chattering away about the game.

  We work side by side in the kitchen seasoning steaks, getting the potatoes in the oven, and gossiping. Simone sips on white wine while I drink water, and I find her easy to talk to. She doesn't try to pry into anything personal and has the amazing ability to make casual chitchat almost...fun?

  Yeah, Simone is a fun girl. She not only looks like her brothers but seems to have the same easygoing, happy-go-lucky personality, which I'm going to have to assume has been handed down by their parents.

  The front door opens and Simone and I turn that way. My breath catches as Lucas walks in wearing a silvery-gray suit that's fits his body to perfection. His hair is still slightly damp from the shower he took after the game and he's carrying a huge duffel bag over his arm. His eyes come to me immediately and his smile makes my legs feel jelly-like. He smoothly steps over Simone's purse lying in the middle of the floor as he walks toward me, setting his bag on the couch as he passes it.

  "Son of a fucking bitch," Van curses loudly, and my eyes catch him stumbling behind Lucas. He rights himself and his eyes go immediately to Simone. "For the love of all that's holy, can you once again please not just leave your shit in the middle of the floor?"