God’s sake, that wasn’t funny.
Frowning, he settled back on his heels to watch what happened next. The protective stance and attitude was just what he needed, he decided, to put away those dangerous and recurring moments he’d spent seeing Lucy as a woman.
Of course, she wasn’t a little girl any longer, either. No one seeing her in that dress—two hankies, no matter how she denied it—could see her as anything less than an attractive, desirable, adult female.
The lead singer had noticed, that’s for sure.
“Wrench,” Carlo muttered.
Though loud enough, apparently, for the man standing next to him to hear. He cocked a brow in Carlo’s direction. “You do know Silver Bucket, right?”
“Uh…” Great, he was going to be forced to admit that he was a fuddy-duddy.
The other man took pity on him. “They’re the ones known for their shock-and-awe pyrotechnics show during their signature song, ‘Mosh Pit.’ It always works the crowd into a frenzy.”
Shock-and-awe pyrotechnics. “Mosh Pit.”
Frenzy.
Tension grabbed the back of Carlo’s neck and he took his eyes off Lucy to seek out Claudia. There wasn’t going to be any pyrotechnics, mosh pits or, for that matter, frenzies at the upcoming festival. Not when he was head of security.
With a glimpse of Claudia near the bar and thwarting possible future catastrophe at the forefront of his mind, he cast a last glance at Lucy and then set his jaw and left her unguarded. Surely she wouldn’t go far.
Ten minutes later, Claudia’s promises had appeased his uneasiness. Five minutes later, it was back again. Lucy was nowhere to be found. And neither was Wrench.
Her voice echoed in his head. “I just adore that band.”
Carlo’s mind abandoned common sense and leaped to a worst-case scenario. If she eloped with Wrench, her family would never forgive him. He would never forgive himself.
Lucy was like a…a…almost like a sister to him.
Sister. Right.
Pulse pumping, he strode toward the dessert buffet and the exit doors just beyond. A guy like Wrench would have a limo, wouldn’t he? Maybe he and Lucy were in it right now, speeding toward Vegas, and the tool was popping champagne and eyeing her spectacular legs as she stretched out on black leather. Hell.
“Wearing a face like that, you could scare people.”
At the sound of Lucy’s voice, Carlo spun. Damn it! Preoccupied by the vision in his mind, he’d hurried right past her. She stood on the far side of the dessert tables, half-hidden by a fountain bubbling waterfalls of white chocolate.
“There you are,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “Were you looking for me?”
It took concentration, but he managed to relax his shoulders. He hadn’t lived in this world for thirty-four years without learning a thing or two. Telling Lucy he’d been looking out for her might give a rise to her hackles.
“It’s getting late,” he said instead. “I was after some dessert before I rounded you up in order to leave.” To put truth to his words, he grabbed a plate and started scooping up random items.
She waited for him to finish, then together they wandered out onto a small terrace. It was almost empty of people, but a few small waist-high tables were set up under portable heaters.
He took a breath of the fresh air, then looked over at her. “Having fun?”
She held a white-chocolate-covered strawberry to her parted lips. “Mmm.” Nodding, she took a bite out of the juicy thing.
He should look away.
He couldn’t look away.
Damn, but there went his common sense again, evaporating under the radiant warmth of the patio heaters—not to mention the radiant warmth that was his libido catching fire.
A drip of pink-tinged juice oozed at the corner of her mouth and she tongued it off. Carlo cleared his throat, tore his gaze away, then couldn’t stop it from jerking back.
“There,” he muttered, gesturing at her with his fork.
Her eyebrows came together. “There? There where? There what?” She whipped her head around in confusion. “There on your mouth.” Carlo was forced to step closer. “Some of that white chocolate.” A dab perched on the rosy pillow of her bottom lip.
Her tongue’s next search-and-destroy mission completely missed the spot.
He couldn’t stand to watch her send it out again and he couldn’t look at the creamy dot for one more second. “Let me,” he said impatiently. The edge of his thumb touched down.
And seemed to stick to her bottom lip as if the sugary stuff was superglue.
Her gaze jolted to his. Her breath burned his hand.
Time froze.
Carlo remembered he was a family friend. A former cop who could smell trouble from two blocks away. A man who thought of himself as Mr. Keep-It-Light.
But his blood was hot and heavy, chugging slowly through his veins. Lucy’s big blues were looking at him as if she sensed the same thing he did. Attraction in the air. Just like that moment two years ago, a moment he’d thought he’d banished from his memory forever.
Because this was attraction he had no business feeling, not for someone so young, so fresh, so flat-out deserving of all the happily-ever-afters a man like him could never promise. That a man like him didn’t want to promise because he couldn’t take a chance on all the painful ways ever-after could end instead.
Still, as he stroked his thumb free of her mouth, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking he was freeing it for something else….
He leaned closer.
Lucy shifted left, her eyes widening. “Oh! Thanks.” She used a little square of napkin to scrub his touch away. “I’m not usually so…so…”
Cowardly? Carlo thought. No, no. He meant smart. Smarter, for sure, than him, because a second ago he’d been close to overriding his brain. His gray matter knew it was crazy to play around with Lucy, even though parts farther south were still registering the fact they considered the idea had some merit.
“So what’s with you and Claudia, anyway?” Lucy asked with a shiny smile.
He groaned. “Nothing, and that’s just the way I like it.”
She nodded. “I figured as much when I was pressed into playing your latest girlfriend.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Keep it down, okay? Claudia gets wind it was a ruse and I’m toast.”
“Why don’t
