Lucy and The Lieutenant

“We’re just working together on the gallery extension plans, that’s all,” Kayla insisted.

Lucy was pretty sure there was more to it, but didn’t press the issue. She was more interested in knowing why Brant was consorting with his brother’s mortal enemy. But since neither things were any of her business, she concentrated on the cocktails and enjoying her friend’s company.

Except, Brooke didn’t drop the topic. “At least he hasn’t wrecked his bike again.”

“Not for a couple of months,” Lucy said and frowned. “He was lucky he wasn’t seriously injured,” she added with quiet emphasis.

His last visit to the ER was his third in seven months and had landed him with a dislocated shoulder and cuts and scrapes. The first was another flip from his motorbike. The second was when he’d climbed Kegg’s Mountain and taken a tumble that also could have killed him. Why he’d risk his life so carelessly after surviving three tours of the Middle East, Lucy had no idea.

“I guess he’s just adventurous,” Brooke said, and Lucy saw a shadow of concern in her friend’s expression. This was Brant’s cousin. Family. Brooke knew him. And clearly she was worried.

“Maybe,” Lucy replied and smiled fractionally, eager to change the subject.

Ash bailed at seven fifteen to get home to her eleven-year-old son, Jaye. Lucy hung out with Kayla and Brooke for another ten minutes before they all grabbed their bags and headed out. Brant had left half an hour earlier, without looking at her, without even acknowledging her presence. Kayla managed a vague wave to Liam O’Sullivan before they walked through the doors and into the cold night air.

Lucy grabbed her coat and flipped it over her shoulders. “It’s still snowing. Weird for this time of year. Remind me again why I didn’t accept the offer to join the hospital in San Francisco?”

“Because you don’t like California,” Kayla said, shivering. “And you said you’d miss us and this town too much.”

“True,” Lucy said and grinned. “I’ll talk to you both over the weekend.”

They hugged goodbye and headed in opposite directions. People were still coming into the hotel and the street out front was getting busy, so she took some time to maneuver her car from its space and drive off.

The main street of Cedar River was typical of countless others in small towns: a mix of old and new buildings, cedar and stucco, some tenanted, some not. There were two sets of traffic lights and one main intersection. Take a left and the road headed toward Rapid City. Go right and there was Nebraska. Over three and a half thousand people called Cedar River home. It sat peacefully in the shadow of the Black Hills and was as picturesque as a scene from a postcard. She loved the town and never imagined living anywhere else. Even while she was away at college, medical school and working at the hospital in Sioux Falls for three years, her heart had always called her home.

Up until recently the town had been two towns—Cedar Creek and Riverbend—separated by a narrow river and a bridge. But after years of negotiating, the townships had formed one larger town called Cedar River. Lucy had supported the merger... It meant more funding for the hospital and the promise of a unified, economically sound community.

Lucy was just about to flick on the radio for the chance to hear the weather report when her car spluttered and slowed, quickly easing to little more than a roll. She steered left and pulled to the curb as the engine coughed and died.

Great...

A few cars passed, all clearly intent on getting home before the snow worsened. Lucy grabbed her bag and pulled out her cell. She could call her automobile club for assistance, but that meant she’d be dragging mechanic Joss Culhane out to give her a tow home. And Joss was a single dad with two little girls to look after and had better things to do than come to her rescue because she’d forgotten about the battery light that had been flashing intermittently all week.

Better she didn’t. She was just about to call Kayla to come and get her when she spotted something attached to one of the old buildings flapping in the breeze. A shingle. Recognition coursed through her.

The Loose Moose. Brant’s place.

A light shone through one of the front windows. He was home. She knew he lived in the apartment above the tavern. Of course she’d never been up there. But Colleen Parker had told her how he was renovating the tavern while residing in the upstairs rooms.

Lucy got out of the car and wrapped herself in her red woolen coat. Surely, Brant would help her, given the circumstances?

She grabbed her bag and locked the car before she headed toward the old tavern. The old adobe front was boarded up, apart from the two windows, and the heavy double doors were still blackened in spots from the damage caused by the fire eight months before.

Lucy knocked once and waited. She could hear music coming from inside and discreetly peered through one of the windows. There were trestle tables scattered with power tools and neat stacks of timber on the floor near the long bar, and the wall between the remaining booth seats and the back room that had once housed pool tables had been pulled down. She knocked again, louder this time, and then again. The music stopped. By the time the door swung back she was shivering with cold, her knuckles were pink and her patience a little frayed.

Until she saw him. Then her mouth turned dry and her knees knocked for an altogether different reason.

He wore jeans and a navy sweater that molded to his shoulders and chest like a second skin. His dark hair was ruffled, as though he’d just run a hand through it, and the very idea made her palms tingle. His blue eyes shimmered and his jaw was set tightly. He looked surprised to see her on his doorstep. And not one bit welcoming.

But, dear heaven, he is gorgeous.

She forced some words out. “Um, hi.”

“Dr. Monero,” he said, frowning. “It’s a little late for a house call, don’t you think?”

She swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. There was no welcome in his words. She jutted her chin. “Oh, call me Lucy,” she insisted and then waved a backward hand. “My car has stopped just outside. I think it’s the battery. And I didn’t want to call for a tow because my mechanic has two little kids and I thought it was too much to ask for him to come out in this weather and I was wondering if... I thought you might...”

“You thought I might what?”

Lucy wanted to turn and run. But she stayed where she was and took a deep breath. “I thought you might be able to help. Or give me a lift home.”

His brows shot up. “You did?”

She shrugged. “Well, I know it’s only a few blocks away, but the paths are slippery and the snow doesn’t seem to be easing anytime soon.”

His gaze flicked upward for a second toward the falling snow and then to her car. “Give me your keys,” he instructed and held out his hand.

Lucy dropped the keys into his palm and watched as he strode past her and to her car. He was in the car and had the hood up in seconds. Lucy tucked her coat collar around her neck and joined him by the vehicle. He closed the driver’s door and moved around the front, bending over the engine block. Lucy watched, captivated and suddenly breathless over the sheer masculine image he evoked. There was something elementally attractive about him...something heady and fascinating. Being around him felt as decadent as being behind the counter in a candy store. He had a narcotic power that physically affected her from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet. And she’d never responded to a man in that way before.

Not even close.

Sure, she’d crushed on several of the O’Sullivan or Culhane brothers back in high school. But Brant Parker had never been far from her thoughts. Returning to Cedar River had only amplified the feeling over the years. Being around him made her realize how real that attraction still was. She liked him. She wanted him. It was that simple. It was that complicated.

“Battery’s dead,” he said, closing the hood.

Lucy smiled. “Well, at least that means I remembered to put gas in the tank.”

He didn’t respond. He simply looked at her. Deeply. Intently. As if, in that moment, there was nothing else. No one else. Just the two of them, standing in the evening snow, with the streetlight casting shadows across the sidewalk.

“I’ll take you home,” he said and walked back toward the Loose Moose.

Lucy followed and stood by the doors. “I’ll wait here if you like.”

Brant turned and frowned. “I have to get my jacket and keys, and my truck is parked out back. So you might as well come inside.”

He didn’t sound like he wanted her in his home. In fact, he sounded like it was the last thing he wanted. But, undeterred, she followed him across the threshold and waited as he shut the door.

“You’ve been busy,” she said as she walked through the room and dropped her bag on the bar. “The renovations are coming along.”

“That was the idea when I bought the place.”

Lucy turned and stared at him. He really was a disagreeable ass. She wondered for the thousandth time why she wasted her energy being attracted to him when he made no effort to even be nice to her.

Not one to back down, she propped her hands on her hips. “You know, I was wondering something... Is it simply me you dislike or people in general?”

His jaw tightened. Hallelujah. Connection. Something to convince her he wasn’t a cold fish incapable of response. His gaze was unwavering, blistering and so intense she could barely take a breath.

“I don’t dislike you, Dr. Monero.”

She shook her head. “My case in point. I’ve asked you half a dozen times to call me Lucy. The very fact you don’t speaks louder than words. I know you can be nice because I’ve seen you with your mom and brother and nieces. At least when we were kids you were mostly civil...but now all I get from you is—”

“You talk too much.”

Lucy was silenced immediately. She looked at him and a heavy heat swirled between them. She wasn’t imagining it. It was there...real and palpable. And mutual. As inexperienced as she was, Lucy recognized the awareness that suddenly throbbed between them.

Attraction. Chemistry. Sex.

All of the above. All very mutual.

And she had no real clue what to do about it.

Chapter Two

Lucy Monero was a walking, talking temptation. And Brant wanted her. It took all of his willpower to not take her in his arms and kiss her like crazy.

But he stayed where he was, watching her, noticing how her hair shone from the light beaming from above. Her dazzling green eyes were vivid and suggestive, but also filled with a kind of uncertainty that quickly captivated him. Lucy had a way of stopping him in his tracks with only a look. So he didn’t dare touch her. Didn’t dare kiss her. Didn’t dare talk to her, even though there were times when he thought he’d like nothing else than to listen to her voice or to hear her breathless laughter.

When they were kids she’d hung around the ranch, often watching him and his brother break and train the horses from the sidelines, her head always tucked into a book. She’d been quiet and reserved back then, not trying to grow up before her time by wearing makeup or trendy clothes. When her dad died, her mom had sold the small ranch and they’d moved into town, so he hadn’t seen her as much. His own dad had died around that time, too, and with twenty-year-old Grady taking over the reins at their family ranch and Brant deciding on a military career midway through senior year, there wasn’t any time to spend thinking about the shy, studious girl who never seemed to be able to meet his gaze.

Not so now, he thought. She’d grown up and gained a kind of mesmerizing poise along the way. Oh, she’d always been pretty—but now she was beautiful and tempting and had firmly set her sights on what she wanted.

Which appeared to be him.

Brant wasn’t egotistical. But he recognized the look in her eyes every time they met. And he wasn’t about to get drawn into anything with Lucy Monero. She was pure hometown. A nice girl who wanted romance, a wedding and a white picket fence. He’d heard enough about it and her virtues from his mom and Brooke. Well, it wasn’t for him. He didn’t do romance. And he wasn’t about to get involved with a woman who had marriage on her mind.

“You’re staring at me.”

Her words got his thoughts on track and Brant felt heat quickly creep up his back and neck. His jaw clenched and he straightened his shoulders. “So, I’ll just get my jacket and take you home.”

“Is everything okay?” she asked quietly.

“What?”

She tilted her head a little and regarded him with her usual intensity. “You seem...tense.”

It irritated him to no end that she could see through him like that. “I’m fine,” he lied.

Her brows came up. “I’m pretty sure you’re not.”

“Is there a point you’re trying to make?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “You know, most times we meet, you barely acknowledge me. At first I thought it was because you were just settling back in to civilian life and that small talk was really not your thing. But then I’ve seen you with your family and you seem relaxed and friendly enough around them. And you were with Liam O’Sullivan earlier and didn’t end up punching him in the face, so that interaction must have turned out okay. So maybe it’s just me.”

Brant ignored the way his heart thundered behind his ribs. It is you. He wasn’t about to get drawn into her little world. Not now. Not ever. He had too much going on. Too much baggage banging around in his head. Too many memories that could unglue him if he let someone in.

“Like I said, you talk too much.”

She laughed, the sound wispy and sort of throaty and so damned sexy it sucked the air from his lungs. He was tempted to take the three steps he needed to be beside her. Maybe kissing her would get her out of his system. Maybe it was exactly the thing he needed to keep her out of his thoughts. But he stayed where he was, both irritated and fascinated by the relentless effect she had on him without even trying. And he knew the only way around it was to stay out of her way. To avoid her. To ignore her. To keep himself separate, as he had for the past eight months, and not get drawn into the land of the living where he would be forced to take part. Instead he’d stay on the sidelines, pretending everything was fine. Pretending he was fine. So his mom and brother didn’t work out that he was now a shadow of the man he’d once been.

“So, I’m right. It is just me?” she asked, stepping a little closer. “Why? Are you worried that I might work out that underneath all your brooding indifference there’s actually a decent sort of man?”

“Not at all,” he replied quietly. “Dr. Monero, the truth is I don’t think about you from one moment to the next.”

It was a mean thing to say. He knew. She knew it. And he hated the way the words tasted in his mouth. He wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t good at it. He felt clumsy even saying the words. But he had to try to keep her at a distance.

“I see.” Her eyes shadowed over for a second. She looked...hurt. Wounded. And the notion cut through him like a knife. He didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to have any feelings when it came to Lucy Monero. “Okay. Fine. You’ve made yourself perfectly clear. Now, I think I’ll find my own way home.”

She was past him and by the door in seconds. As she rattled the doorknob, Brant took a few strides and reached her, placing a hand on either side of the jamb. She turned and gasped, looking up, so close he could feel her breath on his chin.

“Lucy...”

The sound of her name on his lips reverberated through him, sending his heart hammering and his blood surging through his veins. She was trapped, but didn’t move, didn’t do anything but hold his gaze steady. And this, he thought as he stared down into her face, was exactly why he needed to keep his distance. There was heat between them...heat generated by a sizzling attraction that had the power to knock him off his feet.

“Don’t...please...” she said shakily, her bottom lip trembling fractionally.

Brant stepped back and dropped his arms instantly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She nodded. “I know that. I didn’t mean I thought you would. It’s just that...being around you...it’s confusing.”

She was right about that!

“It’s like you ignore me as though I don’t exist,” she went on to say. “But sometimes you look at me as if...as if...”

“As if what?” he shot back.

“As if you do...like me.”

“Of course I do,” he admitted raggedly, taking a breath, hoping she couldn’t see how messed up he was. “But I’m not in the market for anything serious. Not with you.”

There...it was out in the open. Now she could move on and stop looking at him as though he could give her all she wanted. Because he couldn’t. He didn’t have it in him. Not now. He’d been through too much. Seen too much. He wasn’t good company. He wasn’t boyfriend or husband material. He was better off alone.

“Why not?” she asked.

Nothing...

Brant sighed heavily. “I’d prefer not to get into it.”

“Oh, no,” she said and crossed her arms, pushing her chest up, which instantly grabbed his attention.

God, her curves were mesmerizing. He looked to the floor for a moment to regather his good sense and hoped she’d stop talking. But no such luck.

“You don’t get to make a bold statement like that and then think you’re off the hook. What’s wrong with me?” Her brows rose again. “I’m honest, intelligent, loyal and respectable, and have good manners. I even have all my own teeth.”

Brant laughed loudly. God, it felt good to laugh. There was something so earnest about Lucy it was impossible to remain unaffected by her. During the past few weeks he’d often heard her soft laughter through the corridors of the veterans home and wondered how it would feel to be on the receiving end of such a sweet, sincere sound. And he wanted to hear it again.

“Well, I guess if I was buying a pony, all bases would be covered.”

Her chuckle started out soft and then morphed into a full-on, loud guffaw. By the time she was done there were tears on her cheeks. She wiped them away and thrust out her chin.

“Wow...you do have a sense of humor.” Her eyes shimmered. “Your cousin was right, you’re not always a complete killjoy.”

“No,” he said easily. “Not always.”

“So, this being a jerk thing...that’s something you save especially for me?”

Brant’s mouth twitched. “I have to get my keys,” he said, ignoring the question. “Wait here.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Aren’t you going to invite me upstairs?”

To his apartment? His bedroom? “Not a chance,” he said and strode off without looking back.

* * *

Lucy wrapped her arms around herself and wandered through the tavern. Every sense she possessed was on red alert. By the door he’d been so close...close enough that she could have taken a tiny step and been pressed against him. The heat from his skin had scorched hers. The warmth of his breath had made her lips tingle with anticipation. It was desire unlike any she’d known before. And she wanted it. She wanted him. She wanted his kiss, his touch. She wanted every part of him to cover every part of her.

And she shook all over, thinking about her false bravado. She’d never spoken to man in such a blatantly flirtatious tone before. But being around Brant was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. As inexperienced as she was, flirting and verbally sparring with him seemed to have a will and a power all of its own.

“Ready?”

He was back, standing by the steps that led upstairs. Lucy swallowed hard and nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

He shrugged loosely. “My truck’s out back.”

“No motorbike?”

He raised a brow and began to walk toward the rear of the building. “Not in this weather.”

He was right, but the idea of being behind him on his motorbike, holding on to him, being so close she’d be able to feel his heartbeat, made her pulse race.

“So you’re only reckless with yourself. That’s good to know.”

Brant stopped midstride and turned. “What?”

Lucy held out three fingers. “That’s how many times you’ve been in hospital in the past seven months. Twice off your bike because you were speeding and once when you thought it was a good idea to climb Kegg’s Mountain—alone—and without the proper gear, I might add.”

“You’re still talking too much,” he muttered and then kept walking.

Lucy followed him down the long hallway, past the kitchen and restrooms, and then through the rear door. He waited for her to walk outside and locked the door. It was still snowing lightly and she took quick steps toward the beat-up, blue Ford pickup parked outside. He opened the passenger door, ushered her inside, strode around the front of the vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat.

“What’s your address?” he asked.

Lucy gave him directions and dropped her bag into her lap.

She expected him to immediately start the truck and drive off. But he didn’t. He put the key in the ignition but placed both hands on the steering wheel. And then he spoke.

“I wasn’t speeding. My bike blew a tire the first time and the second time I swerved to avoid hitting a dog that was on the road.”

It was meant to put her in her place. To shut her up. To end the conversation.

But Lucy wasn’t one to be silenced. “And the mountain?”

“I was unprepared. Not a mistake I would make again.” He started the engine and thrust the gear into Reverse. “Satisfied?”

Lucy’s skin tingled. The idea of being satisfied by Brant Parker had her insides doing flip-flops. Of course, he wasn’t being suggestive, but Lucy couldn’t help thinking how good a lover he would be. Not that she would have anything to make a comparison with. But she had a vivid imagination and she had certainly fantasized about being between the sheets with the man beside her.

She smiled sweetly. “I guess I didn’t hear the whole story because I didn’t attend to you the night you were brought into the ER.”

He shifted gears again and turned into the street. “I thought my mother would have kept you updated. You and she seem to have become quite the twosome.”

“I like your mom,” Lucy replied. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, my mom is a good person.” He turned left. “She also likes to play matchmaker.”

Lucy’s mouth twitched. She knew that. Colleen had been gently pushing her in Brant’s direction for months. “Does that make you nervous?” she asked, turning her gaze. “I mean, now she’s got Grady settled and engaged to Marissa, do you think you’re next?”

She watched his profile. Impassive. Unmoving. Like a rock. But he was trying too hard. The pulse in his cheek was beating madly. He wasn’t so unmoved. He was simply reining his feelings in...as usual.

“She’s wasting her time.”

Lucy tried not to be offended and managed a brittle laugh. “Considering how happy your brother is now, you can’t blame your mom for wanting the same for you.”

“I’m not my brother.”

No, he wasn’t. She knew Grady Parker. Oh, he still had the Parker pride and was a teeny bit arrogant, but he was a good-natured, hardworking family man with three little girls to raise and had recently found love again with Marissa Ellis. The wedding was only a couple of weeks away and Lucy knew Brant was standing as his brother’s best man. She’d been invited, more to please Colleen Parker than anything else, she was sure. And since Brooke and Ash were both going and she liked Marissa and Grady, she was delighted to be part of their special day.

“Have you got a speech prepared?” Lucy asked, shifting the subject. “For the wedding, I mean. I hear you’re the best man. That should be a fun gig...even for you.”

He pulled the truck up outside her house, set the vehicle into Park and switched off the ignition. Then he turned in his seat and looked at her, his jaw set rigid. Boy, he was tense. And the intensity of it crackled the air between them. Lucy met his gaze and held it. Felt the heat of his stare as though he was touching her, stroking her, caressing her. She shuddered and she knew he was aware of the effect he had over her. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as though he knew he shouldn’t react but couldn’t resist.