Goodness and Light (12 page)

T
he next morning, Lucas arrived at Kara’s door bearing a bag of bagels and containers of juice. He wore his new gloves, and black sunglasses tucked into the zipper of his jacket. Elena’s heart did a long slow spin.

“My hero!” Kara teased. “So how are the SFG plans going?”

“Just about done.” Lucas clapped once to emphasize the statement. “Thank you both. I wasn’t sure we were going to pull it all together, with all those last-minute adjustments, but we’re in great shape.” He turned to Elena. “You’ll be my date, right?”

Elena had to fight the urge to kick the ground like a ten-year-old. “I didn’t want to go and had no plans to go.” His smile dimmed and she quickly added. “Until I met you.”

He turned up the power to full wattage and there it was again—that clutch in her heart.

“Awww,” Kara teased and dove into the bag, pulled out bagels. Elena popped straws into the juice containers. The buzzer rang. Juice squirted from Elena’s container.

“She’s here!” Kara clapped and then grabbed a paper towel while Elena buzzed Cass up.

“Kara.” Lucas took her hand. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

Kara turned, put her hand on his cheek. “Whose idea do you think it was?”

He snorted. “Damn if this isn’t the strangest conversation I’ve ever had.” He lost the grin, got serious. “I won’t hurt her.”

Kara pinched his cheek. “If I even suspected you might, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Fair enough.”

A few minutes later, a force of nature strode into the apartment—Lucas recognized her as the driver of the Zipcar. Cassandra Baines—one of the Circle. She tugged off a pair of gloves and immediately exclaimed, “Look at you, mama! You can’t possibly get any bigger. How excited are we getting?”

“We
are not getting excited,
we
are getting bat-shit terrified.”

“Oh, stop.” Cassandra waved away Kara’s admission. “You’re going to be a great mom.”

Elena cleared her throat. “Cassandra Baines, this is Lucas Adair. Luke, this is the infamous Cass.”

He dialed down the smile power to about sixty percent and held out his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh! Well then, I’m sorry.” She snorted and fell to the sofa. She rifled through her handbag, talking while she searched. “I’ve heard all about you, too.” She winked at Elena. “Which is why I bought you a gift. Ta da!” With a flourish, she pulled out a small bag and handed it to Luke. To Kara, she stage-whispered, “You were right. Completely P.D.”

He peeked inside it and flushed crimson. “Ah, thank you.”

“Cass, tell me you didn’t.” Elena glared at her friend. They’d just met and she was already teasing him? Cassandra let out one of her trademark bawdy laughs. If Elena knew Cass, she had a pretty good idea what was in the bag.

“Oh, I did and you can thank me. Tomorrow. Now get lost.”

Elena kissed Kara goodbye, gave Cass’s hair a little tug, grabbed her overnight bag and walked to the door, where Lucas already waited, his face still red. As soon as she opened the door, he stepped out, halted, and turned around. He grabbed Cassandra’s bag and shoved it into his jacket pocket.

“Thanks for the gift.” He grinned full power and shut the door, but it did nothing to muffle the howls of laughter on the other side.

L
ucas took Elena on the PATH train to Hoboken, anticipation all but
killing
him. She’d looked amazing last night but this morning, wearing plain jeans and a sweater, she damn near stopped his heart. He searched her eyes, kept looking for signs of doubt, anxiety, fear—but they were clear and bright. That was a good sign and later, he’d ask her if she’d spend New Year’s Eve with—

Good sign?
Hell. Al was rubbing off on him. No plans. She was going home after the holidays. She’d been clear on that from the beginning—no strings, just a holiday—

No.

He reached over, gave her hand a quick squeeze and she smiled and just like that—he fell like a house of cards. He loved this woman, loved her from the center of his soul and had absolutely no intention of letting her leave New York, or him. If he couldn’t convince her to stay for the sex, he’d win her over with his hot cocoa recipe.

His hands shook as he unlocked his front door, stepped aside to let her enter first.

“This is beautiful, Luke,” Elena said when he shut the door.

“Thanks. I like it.”

She wandered around his living room, stopping at the windows to soak in the incredible view of the city, before turning to admire the space. He’d painted one wall a bold red. In front of it stood the dark leather sofa his sister gave him when she redecorated. It faced a sleek fireplace. Above it, a guy’s best friend—his flat screen TV and surround sound system. He’d left the windows uncovered because the incredible view of Manhattan was part of the purchase price of the condo. Right now, that view was blocked by a huge tree, bigger than the one he’d bought Kara. He wouldn’t admit it, not even to Al, but pulling out the collection of ornaments meant something to him.

His mother had started it for him the year he was born. Every year, he carefully wrapped each ornament to protect and preserve it—especially the two crystal snowflakes he had left from the set of three he’d sacrificed to cheer up a heartbroken little girl. Every year, when he unwrapped them, he remembered exactly when he’d received each one. Like the smiley face ornament—she’d bought him that after he’d broken his arm and was convinced he’d ruined Christmas for everyone.

He took off his hat and gloves, unzipped his jacket, tossed everything on one of two chairs that flanked the Christmas tree. “Let me take this.” He helped Elena off with her coat, piled it on top of his and set her bag down at the foot of the stairs.

“One bedroom?”

“Three.” He walked toward her with a grin. “I’ll give you the tour in a few minutes. But first, there’s something I have to do.” He took her hand and led her to the kitchen. Elena ran her fingers along gleaming black granite counters while Lucas opened one of the white cabinets and took out a pan. “Have a seat. I’m going to make you a cup of my as-advertised, world-famous hot cocoa.”

She raised her brows. “Oh, right. The world-famous, widely admired, best-you’ve-ever-had hot cocoa. Is there like a money-back guarantee or something?”

He shot her a glare. “Tough lady. Jeez, it’s pretty damn good, okay?”

“Okay, hot shot. Go for it.” She smiled back and he was surprised to discover he enjoyed the comfortable banter that they’d developed ever since they’d agreed to stop obsessing over signs. She seemed easier around him, less—well, awestruck and damn if admitting that didn’t make him feel like a dick. He knew the SFG crew had been telling stories about him. Hell, the way Al talked, he saved kittens from trees and widows from evil evicting banks. The thought made him laugh.

“W
hat is going on with you?” Elena angled her head, smiling at him. “You’ve been lost in your own thoughts all morning.” He’d been quiet, but fixed on her like a hunter on prey. Yet she found it easy to be with him. When had that happened, she wondered? True, he was hotter than a tropical sun but Elena had grown to appreciate Lucas for the man he was behind the nuclear smile. The way he thought about her and Kara, doing things for them before they’d even asked.

He only shrugged, piercing straight through her with another of those intense looks, then got busy, so she sat at a stool and watched him move around the space—easy, competent. He had great hands and as she watched him break a huge slab of dark chocolate into small chunks, couldn’t help but imagine those hands on her.

All over her.

And when he held up one of those hands to lick chocolate off his fingers, she couldn’t help but imagine his tongue, too.

She bit her lip and fanned her face. He poured milk into the pan, added brown sugar and stirred, the muscles across his back and shoulders rippling under his Henley shirt adding more fuel to her hyperactive imagination. Her mouth watered—whether it was from the way those muscles flexed or the delicious scent filling his kitchen, she couldn’t be sure. He moved to another cabinet, took out a tiny bottle of vanilla, and stirred a spoonful into the sweet milk. From the stainless steel refrigerator, he removed a plastic container, pried off the lid, stuck a finger in it and slid it into his mouth.

Whipped cream. Sweet Lord, he made his own whipped cream?

“Come here,” he said in that same deep voice that curled her toes. On autopilot, she joined him at the stove and he put a whisk in her hand. “Stir the milk for me. Just like this.” He stood behind her, put his hand over hers, guiding her motion and she was hot, much too hot to drink hot cocoa. While she stirred, he slowly added the chocolate chunks and a pinch of salt. “Don’t stop.”

Stop? She wouldn’t dream of it.

Her eyes tracked him. He moved to a cupboard over the sink, pulled out mugs and put them beside the stove, leaned over and inhaled deeply. “Smells good, right?”

Elena couldn’t talk, she couldn’t possibly make a sound that would be anything but a moan right now, so she only nodded. He cut the heat, carefully poured the thick sweet chocolate into the mugs and then spooned on a heap of cream. She took one cup and lifted it to her lips but he stopped her.

“Wait. Garnish.” With a grin, he sprinkled some of the chocolate dust still on the cutting board over the cloud of cream. “Now it’s ready.”

She kept her eyes pinned to his, blew softly across the top, and sipped. Yes. Yes, oh yes, he was right, it was the best cup of world-famous, widely admired, damn good cup of cocoa she’d ever had. This wasn’t a drink, this was an
experience.

Lucas grabbed the second mug, sipped and nodded in approval. “It’s good.”

Good?
It was nirvana. He watched her over the cup’s rim, watched her watching him. When he licked a tiny bit of cream from his lips, she put out a hand to steady herself and he grinned.

He put his cup on the counter, took hers and did the same. He skimmed a finger along her jaw, heard her swallow hard and stepped closer. He stared into her eyes for a long moment. “If you changed your mind or just don’t want to, I—”

She shook her head, hooked one finger through his belt loop and tugged him toward her, touched her mouth to his and heaven help her, she nearly exploded. Mouths fused, they fell against the refrigerator, then another counter. Lucas boosted her up, stepped between her legs, and pulled back to study her with hooded eyes. Slowly, he moved closer, pressed his lips to her throat, his hands skimming over her breasts.

“Elena. You feel so good.”

No, oh, no, no, no, he had that entirely backwards.
He
felt good. His hands on her body felt good, his lips on her skin felt good. She moaned—a long breathless sound – and felt him smile against her mouth. For a moment, a precious moment she wished she could preserve forever like a flower pressed in a book, she felt the hole in her heart close up—the place where the guilt had roots. She felt no anxiety, no worry, no fear, no grief—only him and the warmth he brought her.

His mouth came back for more and she knew he could taste the chocolate and cream on her tongue, lapping at it like a cat. His hands moved under her sweater to cup her breasts, tease more groans out of her. She melted into him, her hand pressed to his heart. He smelled like sugar and chocolate and her body coiled, tightening in anticipation while his body vibrated under her hands.

“Lucas,” she murmured, running her hands up his arms and into his hair. “What’s wrong? You’re shaking.”