Текст книги "Luke"
Автор книги: M. Malone
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 12 страниц)
chapter sixteen
†
SEVEN
One year later …
I pick up a piece of bubble wrap and carefully pack it around a coffee mug. We’re going to be moving into our new house this weekend.
I look around the apartment which is in varying stages of being dismantled. There are white squares on the wall where Luke took down pictures and the living room floor is covered in boxes and that fluffy white packing material that looks like popcorn.
It’s going to be so weird not to wake up here anymore. This apartment has been the place our love has grown. Where I finally stopped worrying this won’t work out or that Luke will get bored and find someone better.
It’s home in a way nowhere else has ever been.
Even though there are packing materials all over the place, we’ve both been so busy that we haven’t put much inside the boxes yet. Luke wanted to hire movers to handle it all but I told him it wasn’t necessary. Now that I’m with one of the country’s most eligible young bachelors, I’m more aware of the difference in our financial status than ever. Luke knows I don’t care about the size of his bank account but I don’t want to be seen as that girl.
Luckily I have a whole new group of “sisters” to help me navigate this strange new world. Emma warned me that dealing with the other side of wealth is an inevitability so at least I was prepared before the first unflattering tabloid article came out.
I spent an evening sloppy drunk on Emma’s couch while Sasha spoon-fed us both ice cream after I saw it but now all that crap rolls right off my back. There will always be people making assumptions about our relationship or musing about why he’s with a skinny, scarred girl but I refuse to let that stuff bother me. Luke loves me and thinks I’m perfect exactly as I am. His opinion is the only one I care to listen to anyway.
Luke emerges from the bedroom and stops when he sees me packing. “Baby, why didn’t you call me to help? I don’t want you doing all this alone.”
He kneels next to me and grabs the duct tape. I hold the sides of the box together while he seals it.
“Did I tell you that another school signed up for the program?” He does a little victory dance. He’s so goofy sometimes and I love it. After seeing him so despondent, it’s been a joy to watch him return to his usual playful, happy disposition. My Luke is back.
“That’s awesome. You’ve got almost the entire state covered.”
“Yeah. Your plan to use existing schools was brilliant.”
For months, we were spinning our wheels about how to get things off the ground. Luke’s original proposal called for funding the construction of our own buildings. Then I got the idea to approach school systems about either integrating our classes into their existing curriculum or offering them as an extracurricular activity. I figured a few would go for the idea but the response was overwhelming. So many schools signed up that Luke had to hire a program director just to handle all the paperwork.
Using existing infrastructure has not only saved money but solved the transportation issue. Most of the school systems already have busing in place for kids involved in after-school activities. And holding the coding classes on school grounds has ensured that they remain a safe space for children to learn.
That’s going down as one of my best ideas yet.
“I am pretty brilliant, aren’t I?” Brushing dust off my jeans, I sit on the couch and rest my head against the cushions.
“I’m smart enough to know a trick question when I hear one,” he responds absently, absorbed by whatever he’s looking at on his phone.
Suddenly, he breaks out into a huge grin and then vaults over the arm of the couch onto the cushion next to me. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
He holds out his phone. “That your newest game is doing so well.”
“What? Let me see.” I grab the phone from his hand and then squeal at the top of my lungs. “My game is number one. I’m number one!”
He laughs and pulls me into a kiss. “Pig Punt in Paradise is number one. That’s something to tell our kids someday.”
Even in the middle of my excitement, his words give me pause. He’s been doing that more and more lately. Making references to the future that include things we haven’t really talked about yet like kids and mortgages and family vacations. I figure he’s just trying the ideas on for size, seeing how they fit. But every time he mentions something like that a warm feeling of contentment settles around me.
“Are you going to call your sister? Or do you want to wait and tell her in person?”
“I think I’ll tell her next time we visit. She’s always good for a dramatic reaction.”
Once Grace wasn’t worried about me feeling left out, she stopped acting out and has gotten involved in several clubs at school. Her adoption went through a few months ago and we’ve gone to visit her in New Jersey a few times. Unlike what I was expecting, Jim and Enid Barnett weren’t just fostering Grace for money. They really love her.
It was bittersweet to watch her with her new parents. Once they knew I wasn’t a threat to their adoption of Grace, they were extremely open to more frequent visitation. I’m starting to think of them as extended family.
“Thanks for going with me to visit Grace, by the way. She really likes it when you come with me.”
He gives me a wry look. “I can tell. She pinched my ass when she hugged me goodbye last time.”
I stifle a smile. “Aw, poor baby. I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
His head dips and I shiver when his nose brushes against my neck. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
After a loud, smacking kiss against my neck, he gets up and walks into the kitchen. “You didn’t pack the coffee maker?”
I shake my head. “No, I figured that would be dangerous. I know how you get without caffeine. I’ll unplug it and drive it over this weekend.”
He stares at me for a long time. Then his expression softens in a way I’ve never seen. One side of his mouth lifts slightly. “Want some coffee, baby?”
“Yes. Please,” I manage to get out.
What was that about? My cheeks flush as he finally turns away. He’s never looked at me quite that way before. He disappears into our bedroom and then comes out a few minutes later. I watch as he pulls out a filter and measures the coffee. Then he retrieves his favorite Star Wars mug from the shelf. It’s the only one I didn’t pack yet since he uses it every day.
We don’t speak as the coffee percolates and once it’s finished, he prepares a single cup. One cream. Two sugars. Exactly the way I like it. He carries it to me and then kneels next to where I sit on the couch.
My heart is suddenly beating so fast, like it knows there’s something special about this moment.
“Thank you.” I accept the hot mug, smiling at him through the steam that curls above the rim.
Then he puts out his other hand. On his palm is a diamond ring. A simple solitaire on a gold band. Exactly what I would have chosen for myself.
He smiles sheepishly. “I always said if I did this, it would be over coffee.”
My breath whooshes out and I take the ring from his hand with shaking fingers. “This? What is this exactly?”
“A promise.” He kisses me, the steam from the coffee warming our lips. “That I’ll love you forever. Marry me, Seven?”
I place the mug down on the table and then pull him closer. My throat is suddenly very tight. “Yes. Yes! There’s nothing I want more than to be with you.”
chapter seventeen
†
LUKE
My eyes follow the curve of Seven’s ass as she moves around our new kitchen. It’s amazing that she only gets more beautiful as time passes. When she stretches up to reach for something in one of the cabinets, I curl a hand around her hip. When she sees the look in my eyes, she gasps.
“Luke! Your whole family is here.” She dissolves into giggles when I corner her, bracketing her against the counter with my hips.
“Can we get rid of them?” I whisper, kissing her behind the ear.
She’s been baking all morning, with my mom’s help, and she smells warm like sugar. I lick delicately at her neck and she shivers.
“They’re here to help us celebrate our new house. We can’t kick them out when we’re the ones who invited them.” Her hands slide up my chest and pull me closer. “Maybe we can sneak away later?”
“Hey guys! Oops—” Sasha spins in mid-step and walks back out of the kitchen.
Seven muffles her laughter against my shoulder. “We can’t hide in the kitchen the whole time. It’s a party.”
“This is a party.” I pop her on the bottom. She rubs up against me, one hand sliding into my hair.
“Is it safe to come in?” Tank sticks his head in the kitchen, the smug grin on his face telling me he knows exactly what we were just up to.
“No, it’s not.”
But Seven ducks under my arm and rushes toward Tank. Well, toward the gorgeous baby he’s holding.
“Max! Oh my god, she’s gotten so big.”
Tank allows her to take the baby without complaint. His daughter, Maxine, is frequently the main attraction at family events and he’s used to being forced to give her up as soon as he walks in.
“How old is she now?” I ask, laughing when Seven takes the baby’s socks off. She’s recently developed an obsession with baby feet.
Even I have to admit it’s pretty hard to resist squeezing those chubby little toes.
“Ten months. Emma’s getting the rest of her stuff from the car. Now that she’s walking we have to travel with a truckload of safety crap to keep her from falling down stairs or sticking forks in the electric sockets.”
“Tank! What did you just say?”
Emma appears carrying a baby gate. I take it from her and place it between the kitchen and the living room. I know the drill. We’ll move it around from room to room to keep the baby contained.
“Nothing baby. Do you need any help setting anything up?”
Emma shakes her head. “I’ve got it. Sasha got here early to set up so I wouldn’t have to.”
Seven glances over. “Thank you again for planning this party for us, Em. If it was up to Luke and me, we’d probably be eating hot dogs.”
Emma sits next to Tank at our long breakfast banquette table. “Anything for you, sis. I’m just going to sit for a minute.”
I stroke a gentle finger over baby Max’s cheek as she gnaws on Seven’s shoulder. “She’s so cute.”
“Cute and obviously keeping her parents up all night. I think we should offer to babysit again,” Sev whispers and nods her head toward the table.
Emma is fast asleep with her head cradled on her arms. Next to her, Tank is slumped in the corner, his head resting on the wall behind him as he snores softly.
“Wow. I think that’s a new record.”
“I know. Poor things. Oh, can you get the mail? I’m so used to living in apartments and just grabbing the mail on the way into the building. I haven’t checked the mail in three days!”
I can’t even tease her since I’m guilty of the same thing. Living in a house has been quite an adjustment, especially one that’s this big. Originally, we wanted to just buy something already constructed but due to our new security requirements, we ended up building something new.
It’s so big I feel like an idiot getting lost in my own house sometimes but it has tons of land for the two labrador retriever pups Emma convinced us to adopt and a crazy high security fence. The mailbox is all the way at the end of our long driveway.
“Sure thing. I’ll be back.”
Mounds of presents explode off the table in the hallway and just in case anyone missed it, there’s a massive Housewarming Party banner hanging over it. I shake my head. It’s easy to see my sister-in-law’s influence. Emma loves a grand statement.
I pass the living room and raise my hand in greeting when Gabe and Zack look up. They’re helping one of my young cousins put together a model car. Through the back window I can see Finn and Rissa relaxing on our wraparound porch. My mom sits on the couch looking out the window, the widower she’s been dating recently sitting next to her looking uncomfortable.
I grin. He’s probably uncomfortable because he was greeted by my security team when he arrived. My very big and scary security team. Tank recommended his old employer, Alexander Security, and they’ve been great. Professional but completely unobtrusive. I only notice them when I need them which luckily isn’t often.
Our circular drive is filled with cars so I walk directly across the grass to the end of the lawn. Our mailbox is double-sided and mounted into the security gate. I pull it open and then pick up the stack of letters inside. Something flutters out and lands at my feet. It’s a feather.
I stoop and pick it up. It’s a deep red color and large in size. It looks much too large to belong to any of the birds I’ve seen in the area.
A chill runs up my spine.
“You’re a crazy old bird, you know that?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. I always thought of myself as a phoenix. A fighter that rises from the ashes of its own demise.”
I glance behind me at the mailbox and then around the expansive yard. Our drive is bordered by trees and the summer sun overhead beats down mercilessly, making me grateful for the shade. Maybe I should feel worried being out in the open but I’m not. Instead I’m comforted. I rub the feather between my fingers.
“Rise, Max. Rise. And be at peace.”
I must have been standing here longer than I thought because when I look up next I see Seven walking down the drive toward me, her long black hair whipping behind her in the breeze. She waves her hand at me.
“Babe, I thought you got kidnapped out here. I was about to send out the hounds to protect you.”
She looks down affectionately at the two puppies gamboling around her feet. Loki falls over a stick and then whips around to attack it. Uninterested in his brother’s drama, Anakin races over to me and then flops his bottom directly on top of my shoe. His large tongue lolls out of the side of his mouth, a look of complete doggy happiness on his face.
“Yeah, they’re really scary.”
She bends down and scratches Loki under his chin. “Don’t listen to Daddy. You’re a big, scary hound.”
I pick up Anakin and we walk back up the driveway, my mind still reeling from my discovery.
“You’re so quiet. Everything okay?” She looks over at me and she’s so damn beautiful it almost breaks my heart. Beautiful and all mine.
“Yeah. Everything is perfect now.”
That’s when she spies the red feather in my hand. She stretches out her hand to touch it, trailing a finger over the length. “Pretty. Where’d you find that?”
I gesture over my shoulder.
“In the mailbox?” she asks in disbelief. “Like a bird crawled in there just to leave this for us? That’s so strange.”
I tuck the feather into my back pocket for safekeeping. “Crazy old birds do strange things sometimes.”
Then I follow the love of my life back inside the home we’ve made together and toward a future that suddenly seems brighter than ever.
You just finished reading the fifth book in the USA TODAY bestselling Blue-Collar Billionaires series. If you missed TANK’s story, stay tuned for an excerpt after this.
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Years ago, Tank Marshall swore off fighting. He exercises iron control to keep his anger in check. But his mother was just diagnosed with cancer and the deadbeat dad he hasn’t seen in years is back demanding airtime. Worst of all, a billion dollar inheritance hangs in the balance if he doesn’t do what his father wants.
There’s only one person that keeps him anchored in the midst of the chaos. One person untouched by violence and money and lies. Emma Shaw. But the one thing that Tank hasn’t learned yet is that when billions are at stake, there’s no such thing as innocent.
Money. Changes. Everything.
Buy TANK now
EXCERPT of TANK
© MAY 2014 M. Malone
T ANK
Darkness hasn’t always been my friend. There was a time when I would have been at home asleep in my bed in the middle of the night. Instead I’m prowling the streets, restless and edgy, looking for an outlet for the anger roiling inside.
I glance to my left and right. I’m standing in an alcove that’s slightly hidden off the street. It’s easier this way. People tend to get nervous if I just hang out. No one stares outright. But there's always a tell. A glance. A step to the side when we pass so our bodies don't touch. Everyone has a “look” about them and mine apparently says trained killer.
A group of people spill out of the bar across the street, music and the sound of their voices carrying to where I stand in the shadows. This part of Virginia Beach is a mecca for local college kids looking to blow off steam on the weekends so I rarely have to go looking for trouble.
Trouble usually finds me.
I see the girl first. She has taken her shoes off and is walking barefoot on the concrete. She’s beautiful and dressed to score in a short black minidress that shows off long, tanned legs. It doesn’t take long for one of the guys in front of the bar to break off from his friends and follow her. I push away from the wall and follow them at a discreet distance. He hooks an arm around her neck. She looks up at him in confusion but grins blearily. He smiles back, with an expression like he just hit the lottery. My blood pressure spikes a notch.
Oh yes. Trouble you miserable bastard, you always find me.
I step out into the road to cross to their side of the street, pulling the hood of my jacket up and over my face.
A horn blares and a taxi screeches to a halt a few inches from me. The driver’s side door opens and the cabbie steps out. “What the hell! Look where you’re going!”
I glance at him and then back to the couple. Oblivious, they turn down a side street and out of sight. If I wait any longer, I’ll lose them. I haven’t slept in forty-eight hours and if I don’t make sure the girl is all right, then I won’t be able to sleep again tonight. Knowing, seeing, is the only thing that gives me some peace. I run across the street, leaving the cab driver gesturing and cursing behind me. By the time I turn the corner, the street is dark. Empty. Then I hear it.
Crying.
He has the girl pressed up against the wall behind a dumpster. She’s struggling, pushing at his shoulders while he’s working the dress up her legs. He has his other hand over her mouth. Her stiletto shoes are a few feet away from me, abandoned.
That’s all it takes for my veins to turn to ice. This is what happens to me right before. It’s like a red haze that settles over me, blanketing me with the righteous fury necessary to do what needs to be done.
I don’t speak; I just yank the guy off her. The first blow stuns him and all the color drains from his face as he doubles over clutching his gut. My mom’s words from earlier today ricochet through my mind, shredding my sanity as surely as bullets.
The cancer’s back, Tank.
He raises his arm to protect his face or maybe to strike back; I don’t know. I hit him with a rib shot, plowing my fists into him over and over. With every connection, I feel stronger.
I need surgery and I don’t have the money.
After a while, I don’t hear anything. I don’t see anything. There’s just me, some random dirtbag in an alley and the sensation of fists hitting flesh. All I can do is feel. Hatred. Power.
Purpose.
A whimper pulls me from my adrenaline frenzy. The girl is slumped against the wall, one hand on the grimy stone behind her as she watches me with horror in her eyes. Slowly, I remember where I am. My breath puffs in front of my face, a cloud of white in the frigid night air. The guy is slumped on the ground, his face a bruised, pulpy mass.
I hold out a hand to help her up and she cringes back. My knuckles are scraped and bruised and my hands are covered in blood. I look like something from a horror movie. I put my hands down and move back so she’s not crowded.
“It’s okay. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
She nods but continues to regard me with wide, watchful eyes. I’m not sure who she’s more afraid of, me or the would-be-rapist bleeding next to the dumpster.
Even more, I’m not sure I want to know.
“Go. Get out of here.”
She stumbles to her feet and leans down to grab her shoes. Then she turns back. “What about you? Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me.” She doesn’t move, just stands staring at me, her gaze dropping to my bloody hands, so I yell, “Get the hell out of here!”
She runs off this time and doesn’t look back. I’m glad because there’s nothing she can do for me. I’m beyond saving.
Then I turn back to the man slumped on the ground. “But the rest of you aren’t.”
Buy TANK now
