The Guardian (Mended Souls Book 1) (8 page)

T
racy stole sideways
glances at the handsome profile of her date as he negotiated the heavy Chicago traffic. A date. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something so spontaneous. There were any number of open cases on her desk she should be working on, including Hank’s, but for the moment nothing else mattered except spending a little more time with this man. He affected her more than she cared to admit.

He had led her outside the ME’s office to the convertible Mustang parked in the visitor lot and handed her onto the sleek leather passenger seat. Shell-shocked after their kiss, she hadn’t said anything when he lowered the top, started the engine with its deep-throated growl, and pulled away from the lot.

Curiosity had kicked in now, though.

“Where are we going?”

“Grant Park,” he said, shooting her a quick glance as he signaled onto Congress Parkway. The wind flirted with his sandy blond hair and blew a lock over his forehead. With his leather jacket and sky-blue eyes, it was no wonder thousands of women swooned at his movies. He had the whole
James Dean
vibe going—it was difficult to resist.

Soon they were driving into the park. Scott found a space and pulled in, shifting the gearshift into first with his left hand in an economy of motion, then yanking up on the handbrake before he shut the engine down.

The sudden silence made her nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. “This is nice.”

Brilliant observation, Watson
.

“Yeah, it is.” He gave a melancholy smile. “We came here to show my sister the sights the day of the crash.”

Oh, Scott
.

She touched his casted arm in sympathy. “We don’t have to stay.”

He stared out the window, then pulled his keys and met her gaze. “I want to share this with you.”

Her heart squeezed. She swallowed back the tears and forced a teasing grin. “Okay then, hotshot. What’s for lunch? I’m starving.”

Scott slanted her a grateful look and opened his door. “I stopped at a diner on my way to your office this morning and had them do us up a basket—on the off-chance you’d actually agree to go out with me.”

His backward grin was engaging, and she hopped out to join him at the rear of the car, her emotions as effervescent as the bottle of champagne he added to the basket.

He lifted the hamper and a red and white checked blanket from the trunk, slammed the lid, and held out well-tanned fingers dangling below the white cast. “Shall we?”

Tracy hesitated, then accepted his hand, luxuriating in the hard warmth of his touch. They began their walk across the lot and entered the park proper, stopping to watch a wedding shoot at the iconic Bellingham Fountain. Grant Park nestled on the shores of Lake Michigan, a favorite with the locals. Tracy envied the obvious adoration of the groom for his beautiful bride. Sometimes she wondered if her choice of career stopped men from looking at her in a romantic light. Or maybe it was just her. Not that she was a hag—or at least she hoped not—but she wasn’t someone men generally stopped and stared at, either.
Victoria’s Secret
wasn’t going to be calling her for a contract any time soon.

And where had all this sudden self-condemnation come from? She was normally a fairly confident person. Just because every woman they passed took second and third looks at her companion… It didn’t bother her. Much.

She stopped to admire a gorgeously laid out flowerbed filled with bright red tulips, nasturtiums, and daisies. Scott chose a nearby knoll, and set the hamper down before fighting one-handed with the blanket.

Tracy hurried over and grabbed an end, laying it out on the lush green grass.

“Well, that’s good to know,” she said, sinking down and kicking off her heels to bury her toes in the grass.

Scott towered above her, his body casting a shadowy outline over her legs. He grinned and crouched down with only a slight grimace this time. “What’s good to know?”

She brushed away a nosy fly before answering. “Just that you’re human like the rest of us mere mortals, that’s all.”

He huffed out a laugh and sank onto his butt, long jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him. He wore tan cowboy boots with intricate stitching. It was much too easy to picture him on the side of her bed, without a shirt to hide the taut muscles of his back, as he worked to pull those boots off.

Whew, that sun was warm today.

“Of course I’m human,” he answered. “And if you keep looking at me like that, you’re going to find out how much.” The heated intent in his eyes made it clear that they were traveling the same wavelength.

Oh, boy.

Embarrassed, Tracy turned to the hamper and opened the lid, but Scott’s hand on her arm made her stop and raise her gaze to his.

“Why do you do that?” he asked, brushing a curl behind her ear.

She shivered in response, then shrugged to cover it up. “Do what?”

“Turn away every time I tell you how much you turn me on. It’s natural, you know.” He sat back. “We’re two healthy adults who happen to find each other attractive. I say we should explore the possibilities.”

Well, of course he did. What red-blooded American male was going to say no when a woman practically threw herself at his feet?

Her lips twisted into a dry smile. “Why don’t we just enjoy the afternoon and take it from there?”

He leaned back on his good elbow and crossed his ankles, which did interesting things to the fit of his jeans—not that she was looking or anything.

“Okay, Doc. Whatever you say.”

S
cott worked
to keep his expression casual, but holy hell, the woman was testing his integrity. He didn’t think she realized just what those eat-me-up eyes did to his equilibrium. He was the one supposed to be seducing her, not the other way around.

And the kicker was, she didn’t know she was doing it.

If they weren’t sitting in the middle of a public park, he wouldn’t have been able to control the urge to tumble her right there. As it was, he was going to be walking with a limp if he didn’t cool things down soon.

“Hand me the wine and I’ll crack the bottle,” he suggested.

She looked at him doubtfully, but handed it over nonetheless. He placed the bottle in the crook of his arm, just above the cast, and gave a sharp twist with his hand. The top popped and bubbly exploded, causing Tracy to jump and laugh. He watched, fascinated. Her eyes sparkled when she thought something was humorous. And she had this thing where she’d suck her bottom lip into her mouth and crush it between her teeth. It was so sexy he had to glance away before he was the one embarrassed.

He held the wine up and waited for her to find glasses, then poured them each a healthy shot.

“You trying to get me drunk, Anderson?” she teased, taking an appreciative sip. Her tongue peeked out to lick up the excess.

He groaned, he couldn’t help it.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concern turning her eyes mossy.

How to answer that.

Sure, but I’d be better if you came and climbed onto my lap.

Yeah, that’s probably not going to work. Damn.

“Just a spasm, no worries. Why don’t you see what they packed for us?”

She gazed at him skeptically, then twisted to remove the contents of the basket. The swell of her breasts pressed against the material of her shirt and his heartbeat swelled into a crescendo.

He could see a long cold shower on his horizon.

“There’s chicken, prawns, cheese, crackers—oh, oh perfect.” She pulled a giant slice of German chocolate cake out in a plastic domed container. “Let’s start with this.”

Scott laughed, absurdly happy he’d pleased her. Already the lines of stress from this morning were easing and she was looking more relaxed. The dull noise of traffic was accompanied by the nearby sound of singing birds and the odd curious insect. It all worked to create a little bubble of contentment, one he hated to break.

He took a sip of his wine and watched in amusement as she dived into the cake with the exuberance of a child. She looked at him and placed a portion on her fork, hovering it in the general area of his face.

“Try this, Anderson. It’s amazing.” She leaned closer to give him a taste and lost her balance. The cake slid to the blanket and she landed right where he wanted her, against his chest.

“Oomph. I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, her eyes huge and filled with amusement.

“I’m not,” he whispered, right before he got his own taste of amazing.

L
ucas stared
down at the bright blonde head by his side and cursed his helplessness. It had always been his personal goal to make sure Natalya had whatever she needed. He couldn’t explain to himself why it mattered so much, just that it did. Which made this situation all the worse. He needed to find a way for her to connect with her brother so that she could see for herself that he was okay. But how? It wasn’t like there was an elevator down to ground level or anything. He didn’t even know how he’d gotten there himself. It just sorta—happened.

And then there was the issue of his new partner, Mike. He hadn’t seen the other man since he left him at his house, but could guess what he was going through. Losing your whole family like that… it sucked.

Lucas had gone over his own accident a hundred times already. If only he hadn’t turned his head and been distracted just then.

If wishes were horses
…

“Have you talked to anyone else since you arrived?” he asked Nat, curious as to who might be hanging in limbo around here.

“No, you’re the first.” She stabbed at a log, causing a shower of sparks, before she rose and placed the poker in an ornate stand on the hearth. She turned to face him and the gratitude shining in her expression set him back a step.

“Do you realize how happy I am that you’re here? I was so scared. I thought I was going to be alone forever.” Her eyes welled up, becoming deep pools he could cheerfully drown in.

“Nat,” he said, and held open his arms, helpless against her pain.

She hesitated for a nano-second, then heaved a giant sigh of relief and snuggled in tight to his chest. Her arms crept around his back and Lucas was going to hell for sure, it felt so good. His cheek rubbed against her silky hair and he closed his eyes, the better to let his other senses soak up the scent of sunshine and summer meadows.

When she glanced up, it was the most natural thing in the world to lean down and touch his lips to the smile on hers.

The room tilted.

Lucas pulled away, cursing under his breath, but Natalya murmured a protest and lifted her hands to jam them in his hair, tugging him closer. Her mouth flirted shyly with his, leaving soft butterfly kisses that drove him Over. The. Edge.

And then there was no turning back.

He groaned and slanted his mouth over hers, taking control and showing her this was no game they played. His thumb caressed the side of her face, reveling in the soft texture of her creamy skin. Up close she was even more enticing, and he was going down for the count.

She stood on her toes for leverage and the fullness of her breasts strained against his chest, the hard nubs turning him inside out. He’d waited a lifetime for this moment.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” His voice was little more than a growl, filled with the effort of holding his passion under lockdown. If Scott knew…

He grabbed her arms and held her away. “Stop, Nat. We can’t do this.”

She looked as dazed as he felt. It was all Lucas could do to step away from the sweet temptation of flushed cheeks and bee-stung lips.

“Don’t look at me like that. You know this is wrong.” He smacked the fireplace mantle. “Dammit, you’re too young. Barely more than a teenager, for crying out loud.”

Natalya snorted, and swung away, striding over to the sink and running a glass of water. She took a long drink, set the glass on the counter, then turned and leaned against the ledge with her arms crossed and cheeks flushed.

“You done?” she asked.

Why did he suddenly feel like a kid about to get a talking to?

“Listen, Nat…”

She straightened and poked a finger in his direction. “No, you listen. I’ve followed after you like a besotted idiot for as long as I can remember. I watched you take out girl after girl and hated every single one of them. But, it was okay, you know,” Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and she brushed them away impatiently, “because they never stuck. And as long as you were dating different women, you weren’t falling in love. Which meant maybe… maybe I had a chance.”

She moved closer. “Lucas, we aren’t kids anymore. You don’t have to protect me.” Her hands rested on his bare chest, right over the pounding of his heart. “Why do you think I came to Chicago?”

He stiffened, somehow knowing he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

“I thought you wanted to see how the other half lived?” He was hoping to lighten the mood, but she only gave him a sad quirk of the lips.

“I’ve met someone,” she said, and his heart literally stopped. She hesitated as though waiting for his blessing, or some fucking thing. When he stayed silent, she sighed.

“I
came
,” she added forcefully, “to see if we’d ever stand a chance, or if this was going to be goodbye.”

Lucas stared down into her precious face and didn’t know what to say. It was only just recently that he even admitted he had those kinds of feelings for his best friend’s sister. Never mind the freaking L word, which she seemed to be looking to hear from him. What a mess.

“Nat…”

She pulled away, as though sensing what he was going to say.

Loud clapping from the doorway made them both jump as though a bomb had gone off.

Mike stood there like a black cloud, his face a grim mask. “Well, isn’t this sweet? Where’s the chocolate and roses?”

“Shut up, man. You don’t know nothing about this,” Lucas growled. “Where the hell have you been?”

Mike slammed the door shut and clomped over to make his ornery self right at home on the couch.

Natalya turned white and swayed alarmingly.

Lucas grabbed her arm and led her to the other chair. He brushed her forehead and found it clammy. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She stared at Mike like he was an anomaly, which he was, but hey.

“He’s… he’s the man in the van,” she whispered. “The one you hit in the accident.”

The words smashed Lucas in the solar plexus with the force of a gunshot. He froze, shocked. Surely, God wouldn’t place him with the one man who had every right to hate his guts?

Natalya’s scream was the only warning he had before two hundred pounds of enraged angel flew at him, knocking him off his heels.

He rolled to the side, taking Mike with him in an effort to protect Nat. The blows came hard and fast, slam after slam hitting his ears, nose, and mouth, but Lucas did nothing to defend himself. In some screwed up part of his brain the pain was cathartic. What hurt more were the animal sounds of agony coming from the other man’s tortured soul.

A vicious jab to the nose sent blood spraying, hitting their faces and the fluffy white rug beneath them. Natalya yelled something—his ears were ringing so he couldn’t make it out—and rushed into the fray, pushing and shoving to get Mike to move. Lucas tried to tell her to get back, but the words wouldn’t form. Mike reared up, threw out an arm, and sent her tumbling against the fireplace.

She fell backward and tripped, going down hard. Her head hit the hearth with a bone-jarring crack and then there was only silence.