he’s a cop. And he’s extremely overprotective.” Though she didn’t usually discuss it, for some reason, she found this guy very easy to talk to, so she added, “He sort of became my father when our parents died.”
Ross leaned forward in his chair, dropping his elbows onto the table. His fingers brushed against her hand, in a move that was as fleeting as it was sweet. A faint brush of I’m Sorry and How Sad and Hey, I Understand. All unsaid. All understood.
All appreciated.
She cleared her throat, feeling the lump start to rise, the way it always did when this particular subject came up. “Anyway, I don’t need Sam to fight my battles. I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Ross said.
“Don’t worry, I’m really not the violent type. This guy didn’t crush my spirit, he merely dinged my ego.”
He held her stare, as if assessing the truth of her words. Lucy stared right back, a tiny smile on her lips, relieved that she meant exactly what she’d said, hoping he realized that, too.
“I’m glad,” he finally admitted, seeing the truth in her face.
“So am I.”
“Still, if you change your mind and decide to get all saw-crazy on this boyfriend, remind me not to go with you. I wouldn’t want to be arrested as an accomplice.”
She chuckled as he turned her earlier words back on her, then clarified, “Ex-boyfriend.” Shaking her head, she added, “Believe me, nothing could induce me to go back there.” Then something occurred to her. “Oh, no!” Lucy put a hand over her forehead as she remembered something. Because she was going to have to make a liar of herself. “I’m so stupid!”
“What?”
“My brother’s Christmas present to me. It came in the mail today—he sent it to Jude’s place because he knows mail sometimes gets stolen from the building where I live and Jude’s has a doorman.” She felt moisture in her eyes, furious at herself for forgetting the gift, but also worried about what Jude would do with it. “He’s probably already thrown it down the trash chute.”
“Jude?” he said doubtfully. “Lemme guess—spoiled, rich punk?”
It might have taken a little while for the blinders to come off, but Lucy had to admit, that pretty well described her ex. “How’d you know?”
“Having a doorman in NYC is a pretty big tip-off. So’s having a name like Jude. Plus, he must’ve done something pretty bad if you’re fantasizing about chopping the head off his trouser snake, yet he’d still throw out a Christmas gift from your brother…meaning he’s an immature, petulant brat.” He spread his hands. “Or a spoiled, rich asshole.”
“All of the above would cover it.”
“And you’re with this guy…why?”
“I’m not with him.”
“But you were as of…”
She sighed deeply. “About two hours ago.”
He whistled, leaning back in his chair, extending his long legs, crossed at the ankle. “Was it serious? I mean, were you guys exclusive?”
“Not according to him, apparently.”
His jaw tightened a tiny bit. “And according to you?”
“Well, I thought so, but maybe I just saw things differently than he did. We’d been dating three months, but we hadn’t even…you know. So maybe he cheated since he’d never gotten anywhere with me.”
Ross coughed into his fist, apparently surprised she’d admitted that. Maybe he was turned-off; some guys would be at the thought that a girl would wait three months before getting down to business. If so, better to find out now if he was one of them.
Why that should be, she didn’t know. After all, she might never even speak to this guy again once she left this shop. Somehow, the thought made her heart twist a lot harder than it had earlier when she’d thought about not seeing Jude anymore.
“Good for you,” he said.
Okay, so he wasn’t one of those guys, apparently. The realization warmed her a little on this very chilly day.
“Let him eat his heart out, wondering what he’s thrown away.”
She liked that idea. “I hope twenty years from now he’s still wondering if he missed out on the best sex of his life.”
Their stares locked as the heated words hung there between them. They were having a very intimate conversation for two strangers, and now, she suspected, they were both thinking a little too much about certain parts of that conversation
Like sex. Great sex. She might not have had it—great, or otherwise—but that didn’t mean she was immune to desire. Looking at the man sitting across from her, feeling the heat sluice through her veins to settle with quiet, throbbing insistence between her thighs, she knew full well she had a basic understanding of want.
Or more than basic. Because it wasn’t just her sex that was responding here. Every inch of her skin tingled as she thought of him touching her, pressing his mouth to all the more interesting parts of her body. Places that responded to the warm look in his eyes and how he opened his mouth to draw in a slow breath in a way they’d never responded to any guy’s most passionate embrace.
His gaze dropped to her mouth and his voice was thick as he finally replied, “I almost feel sorry for the bastard.”
She didn’t. And she definitely didn’t feel sorry for herself any longer. Not when, with one twenty-minute conversation, this complete stranger was introducing her to sensations her ex hadn’t elicited in months of dating.
They remained silent for one more moment. Then, as if they both realized they were falling into something neither had anticipated—at the speed of light, no less—they shifted in their chairs and broke the stare.
Lucy forced a light laugh, trying to pretend she wasn’t completely enraptured by the thought of pressing her mouth to the cord of muscle in his neck. “I’m not going to spare him any sympathy until I get my present back and make sure he didn’t destroy it.”
His gleaming eyes narrowed. “You really think he would?”
She considered it, remembered some of Jude’s more spiteful moods. Not to mention his ridiculously misplaced indignation that she’d walked in on him today—as if it were all her fault because she’d caught him, not his that he’d cheated. “It’s possible.”
Ross’s jaw clenched, a muscle flexing in his cheek. “Why don’t you let me take care of this?”
“Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough to know you shouldn’t have to beg somebody who betrayed you to give you back something that’s yours.”
She heard the note of protectiveness in his voice, and found
