Up to the Challenge (An Anchor Island Novel) (13 page)

Sid rolled her eyes. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He brushed the hair from her face. “Anything we started now would have to be casual and temporary. And you’re neither of those things.”

“I am so,” she said, with a kick to his ribs. She could do casual. “Try me.”

Not the two words he expected if the look on his face was any indication. She could see it in his eyes. Temptation warred with whatever fucked-up gentlemanly delusions were going around that damn head of his.

“No,” he said, moving away from the truck.

She hit the ground behind him. “No? Just like that? Why do you get to decide? I get a vote, and I say yes.”

“No,” he said again, stopping when she pulled on his arm. “I won’t start something I can’t finish.” His voice
dropped to nearly a whisper as he wiped sand from her cheek with his thumb. “I’ve screwed up enough lives lately. I won’t screw up yours, too.”

His touch was so gentle and the regret in his eyes so real, Sid didn’t have the heart to keep arguing. Instead, she watched him walk away. He could have his upstanding ways today. But she’d change his mind. One way or another, Lucas Dempsey would have a spiritual moment in the bed of Sid Navarro. He could bet on that.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

B
y the time Lucas reached the house, he’d berated himself for being an idiot, vowed never to touch Sid Navarro again, and prayed his father would recover faster than expected. The last reminded him of his parents’ imminent arrival. At least he hadn’t had time to mess up the house, though there were dishes in the sink he needed to load into the dishwasher.

He’d driven his mom’s minivan up to the beach and the ride back felt like torture. Between fighting a hard-on, thanks to Sid’s scent and taste lingering in his brain, and the sand shot up his shorts by what he now thought of as the sanity-restoring wave, sitting comfortably in a bucket seat was not happening.

Cutting the engine, Lucas climbed from the van with one goal in mind: a long, cold shower followed by a hot, rich cup of coffee. Thank God his mother kept the good stuff on hand. As he approached the porch, he spotted a man and woman occupying his mother’s Adirondack chairs. The faces looked vaguely familiar so he knew they had to be islanders.

“Lucas Dempsey, I need to hire you,” said the man sitting to the left of the front door. Lucas stopped at the
bottom step to buy time. Putting a name to the faces took a second.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ledbetter?”

“Mr. and Ms.,” corrected the woman. “I’m not married to this SOB anymore.”

Lucas didn’t have an answer for that. Ms. Ledbetter didn’t sound like she needed condolences, but offering congratulations seemed rude since the SOB in question was present.

“What is this about?” he asked. Based on the greeting, this wasn’t a social call.

“Gladys cut my tree and I’m going to sue her for it.” Franklin Ledbetter crossed his arms but remained seated. No neck could be seen between his large, bald head and thick, rounded shoulders. Bushy black brows anchored his forehead like one long hedgerow, and his bottom lip protruded in a pout that should only appear on someone four years old or younger.

Gladys occupied the chair on the other side of the front door. Flat brown hair, parted down the middle, flowed over her shoulders while blue eyes carried a look of amusement. If the threat of being sued by the man four feet to her right was keeping her up nights, she hid it well.

“I only cut the branches on my side of the tree. I was perfectly within my rights.”

Unless they had joint custody of a tree, this made no sense. Lucas took a step up, making the sand in his shorts slip higher between two parts of his anatomy that had experienced enough strain for one day.

Then Mr. Ledbetter’s words of greeting sunk in. “Did you say you want to hire me?”

“That’s right.” The older man pointed to his left. “I told her I’d cut that tree when I got around to it and she went and did it on her own.”

“Please,” Gladys said. “I’ve heard ‘when I get around to it’ for thirty-five years and you haven’t ever gotten around to anything in your life except a fishing pole and a beer.”

“You see what I’m dealing with here?” He went into full pout again. From the look of his gut and the tackle box next to his chair, Lucas didn’t doubt Gladys spoke the truth.

“I’m afraid I’m not for hire, Mr. Ledbetter. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Lucas reached the top step but Frank blocked his way to the door. For a man who resembled a Weeble Wobble, he moved quick. The smell of not-so-fresh fish filled the air. Lucas tried not to breathe in.

“Artie said you could help us. Said a lawyer up in Virginia could practice anywhere. You’re here, so you need to practice with me.”

The only thing Lucas would be practicing with Franklin Ledbetter would be his patience. And what the hell was Artie doing sending islanders to his door?

“Mr. Ledbetter, I’m on this island to run my family restaurant. Though Mr. Berkowitz is correct about my ability to practice here, that is not my intention or inclination. I’m afraid you’ll have to find yourself another lawyer.”

As Lucas swung open the screen door, Frank stomped his foot. “You have a civic duty here.”

He considered ignoring that statement, but worried the man would follow him into the house, assaulting the interior with his putrid odors. Lucas turned to Gladys. “Did you cut down his tree?”

“No, I did not.” Gladys smiled up at him. “I trimmed the branches on my side of the yard because they were getting too close to the house. It’s hurricane season and I’m not having my windows knocked out because his lazy butt won’t get out a ladder.”

Her side of the yard? “Didn’t you say you’re not married to him anymore?”

“That’s right.”

“Then how do you share a tree?”

“She won’t stay married to me,” Frank interjected, “but she moved next door so she can still torture me ’til my dying day.”

Gladys had no rebuttal. She simply continued to smile. Perhaps she wasn’t the innocent in this situation after all.

Turning to Frank, Lucas asked, “Did she only cut the branches on her side?”

“Maybe.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, the pouter avoided eye contact.

“Mr. Ledbetter, I need the truth.”

“Fine. Yeah, she only did her side.”

“Then there’s no suit.” Lucas slipped through the door, pulling and locking the screen behind him. Turning back to the pair, he added, “Case dismissed!” and shut the inside door.

Sid charged into Hava Java coffee shop on a mission. According to Will, and drunk old ladies in red hats, she possessed the weapons needed to seduce Lucas Dempsey. Now
someone just had to show her how to use them. Will had been free with the advice to this point, so she seemed the natural place to turn.

After Lucas had left her standing on the beach, angry, aroused, and covered in sand, Sid raced home for a quick shower so she could stop at the coffee shop before reporting to the restaurant. Best to go in with a plan in place. Especially now that the game had changed.

What she hadn’t counted on was catching Beth at the coffee shop as well. Since Curly had been Lucas’s fiancée, she’d clearly been in his bed. Something Sid didn’t like to think about. The words
sloppy seconds
came to mind, but were instantly rejected since she’d wanted Lucas long before Beth ever met him.

Every woman had her own way of rationalizing what she didn’t like to deal with.

Sid had to make a decision. She could duck out before Curly saw her and talk to Will another time, which would mean facing Lucas without a plan, not something she wanted to do. Or she could somehow let Will know they needed to talk alone and together shoo Miss Annoyingly-Happy-In-Love on her way.

She chose shooing. Beth finished placing her order, then moved to the end of the counter, noticing Sid as she did so. “Morning, Sid. You look more awake than usual.”

“A cold dip in the ocean will do that to you. Is that Dozer out there?” Sid asked, pointing out the front window. As Beth turned to look, Sid mouthed “We need to talk” to Will. Then she nodded toward Beth and mouthed “without her.”

“Um …” Will murmured, sliding a brown cup under the metal nozzle on the espresso machine. “Sid, you mind if
I make Beth’s drink before taking your order? I think she’s in a hurry.”

“What?” Beth said, turning back to the counter. “I don’t see Dozer out there. And who says I’m in a hurry?”

“Sorry,” Sid said, lifting a CD off the counter and reading the cover intently. “Must have been another dog.”

“You have to open the store in ten minutes,” Will said, passing the cup to Beth. “Don’t want to be late.”

Beth glanced up to the clock over Will’s shoulder. “I have half an hour.”

“Clock is slow,” Will said without hesitation. Sid had to give her credit for the impressive display of deception.

“It is?” Beth looked at the clock again. “Well crap. I’d better go.” She dropped a hand on Sid’s arm. “Tom is coming home from the hospital today and he’s insisted Patty take him by the restaurant on the way in. I tried to tell Lucas this morning, but he wasn’t at the house. Have you seen him?”

Sid had deception skills of her own. “Nope.”

“Weird,” Beth said. “He must have been out running. Anyway, I’ve got to go. Thanks for the heads-up on the clock, Will.”

As Beth disappeared through the door, Will turned on Sid. “Why’d you make me lie to her like that?”

“I didn’t tell you to lie. You did that all on your own. You got a break coming?”

Will yelled to a tall, long-haired kid wiping down tables, “I’m taking a break! I’ll clean up the patio in a few minutes.” To Sid she said, “You want your coffee before we sit down?”

“I already had my morning jolt today. Think I’ll skip it.”

Will’s brows shot up. “Do tell.” They moved to an empty table near the windows. “Did you say you took a dip in the ocean?”

“Not on purpose. Lucas showed up on the beach this morning.”

“Where you run? Did he know you’d be there?”

Sid snatched a napkin from the dispenser and began tearing off little pieces. “I don’t know. Seemed like it. He wanted to race or something. I think he was tired of losing all of those challenges.”

“What challenges? And do you always shred things like that?” Will asked, gesturing toward the growing mound of white paper.

“Bad habit.” Sid slid the pile aside. “Anyway, we were racing and I was winning and he swept me off the ground. I don’t think he meant for it to happen, but we both hit the beach and the next thing I knew, he was moving in for a kiss.”

“Ha!” Will exclaimed. “You move fast.”

“Calm your ass down. I wasn’t moving at all. I froze and then the wave hit and I nearly drowned.”

“Damn. So what happened next?”

Sid went back to tearing the napkin. “I laughed.”

“You what?”

“I don’t know what happened. I was under him and then I was coughing up salt water and then I was laughing. It’s as if my brain got overloaded or something.”

“Hmmm …” Will tapped a nail on the table. “That’s probably not the reaction he expected.”

“None of it was what I expected. But then he tried to play it off like he wasn’t going to kiss me and I pushed and called him prissy and he snapped.”

Will straightened. “He snapped?”

“Yeah. Picked me up and kissed the shit out of me.”

Will cringed. “Not the most romantic description I’ve ever heard. So this is good, right? This is what we talked about.”

“Except Lucas turned all noble and pushed me away. Said something about me not being the casual sex type.” Sid ground her teeth. “It’s not like I’m walking around with a veil or something. What’s he mean, not the casual type?”

No answer came. Sid met Will’s eyes and the woman shrugged. “He’s got a point.”

“What do you mean he’s got a point?” Sid slapped a hand on the table, sending tiny pieces of napkin flying in the air. “I’m just as casual as the next chick.”

“You’re cleaning that up,” Will said, unaffected by Sid’s outburst. “I’ve been on this island nearly a year and never even seen you go out on a date. When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

Sid didn’t like this line of questioning. “A while. What’s that have to do with anything?”

“How many boyfriends have you had?” The woman would not let up.

Behind her hand, Sid mumbled, “Two.” Will held her hand behind her ear as if to say
speak up
and Sid clarified. “Two, okay? And the last one was five years ago. So I’m not good at the dating thing. That makes this the perfect situation. I don’t want to date Lucas, I want to fuck his brains out for a few weeks.”

Will shook her head. “You do have a way with words. But you’ve wanted
this
guy for more than a decade. You think a few weeks will be enough?”

Damn it. This had been Will’s idea. “You’re the one who said I should rock his world and get him out of my system.”

“True,” she admitted. “That might have been bad advice.”

“I’m telling you, I can do casual. I’m not ready to settle down. I like my space. My independence. I’ve got plans, and they do not include having a man underfoot all the time.”

Will gathered the scattered paper. “You’re sure? If this turns into something, you won’t have any problem watching him drive away?”