Up to the Challenge (An Anchor Island Novel) (17 page)

Lucas slid his empty plate to the edge of the table to make room for the new course, but remained silent. Sid did the same, allowing Goober to set down the new plate and pick up the empty ones.

“Will there be anything else? Coffee?”

“This is good, thanks.” Lucas smiled at Goober, then once he walked away, stared at Sid.

After several seconds, she cracked. “What?”

“I’m sorry.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

S
he looked for mocking in his hazel eyes but only found contrition. “Good.”

“Let me rephrase.”

Her eyes rolled so hard she nearly went dizzy.

“There is nothing
to do
on this island,” he corrected.

Sid slid a bite of her chocolate cake layered with chocolate mousse sitting on a crunchy chocolate cookie base—hence the name “To Die For”—into her mouth, and contemplated her reply as the sweetness soothed the bitterness brought on by the man across the table.

“You know, preppy,” she said, sliding another piece onto her fork, “for such a smart guy, you don’t know much of anything.”

Lucas coughed, nearly choking on his cheesecake. After wiping his mouth with his napkin, he said, “Excuse me?”

Another warm dose of chocolate heaven delayed her response. “By my calculations, you’ve been off this island, for the most part, for eleven years now.” It was eleven years, one month, and four days, but who was counting?

He leaned to the side, draping an arm over the back of his chair. “And?”

“A lot has changed around here.”

The man had the nerve to bust out laughing. Rearranging his napkin on his lap, he retrieved his fork, but before taking a bite, he pointed the utensil at Sid. “You’re funny. Nothing ever changes on this island. The natives still talk the way their ancestors did two hundred years ago—like they grew up in New England in the seventeen hundreds. They still tell the same stories, sitting in the same old rocking chairs, because making life sound interesting is the only way to keep the reality of how uninteresting it really is from putting everyone into a depression.”

Lucas shoveled a large bite of cheesecake into his blowhole as if that would add punctuation to the load of crap he’d just spewed.

Sid shook her head. “You’re wrong. And I’m going to prove it.”

“How?” Lucas mumbled around his cheesecake.

“I’m telling your mother you talked with your mouth full.” He smacked his free hand on the table, but she ignored him. “I bet I can show you a good time on this island. Several good times. And I don’t just mean sex, though that’s still on the table. For now.”

She dug into her cake again, enjoying watching Lucas gasp for air. Cheesecake must have gone down the wrong pipe. Once he appeared to be out of danger, she continued.

“We’ll start tonight. After dinner we’re going to the movies.”

The dessert down, Lucas leaned back and motioned for the waiter again. “There is no movie theater on Anchor Island.” He pulled a wallet from his inside coat pocket and drew out a gold credit card. Fancy ass.

“See? You’re wrong again.” Sid reached over and grabbed Lucas’s left wrist to see his watch. “Movie starts in twenty-five minutes. We’re good to go.”

Goober set the check on the table, then looked to Sid. “You want a to-go box for that, Sid?”

“I’ll have it done before you finish running pretty boy here’s credit card.”

Lucas sighed and slid the card into the guest check holder without saying a word. Goober deserved credit for remaining professional and ignoring his customers’ strange behavior. They would certainly be the winning odd couple of the night.

“Are you going to insist on playing out this charade? You and I both know there is no movie theater anywhere on this island.”

“Dude,” Sid said, slicing what was left of her cake into three large pieces. “When are you going to learn I don’t bluff? I wasn’t bluffing this morning. And I’m not bluffing now. I’ll prove to you there’s plenty of fun to be had on this island. With and without our clothes on.”

Lucas had no intention of having sex with Sid Navarro, no matter how often she insisted they would. Sex with Sid would only lead to unwanted complications. He was going back to Richmond. He would straighten out his career, and he would make partner.

And yet, he really wanted to have sex with Sid.

If someone had told him he’d be attracted to a hard-headed, dirty-mouthed, mentally unstable woman with a competitive streak and a body built for sin, he never would
have believed them. Lucas liked good girls. He always had. Not that Sid was necessarily a bad girl. She just played one in his dreams.

Bottom line, Sid was not his type. He liked the girl next door. The woman who could throw a dinner party, schmooze with politicians, and go shopping with the other partners’ wives. Not that he had antiquated ideals about the fairer sex. Though maybe referring to them as the fairer sex didn’t make him sound all that progressive either.

Regardless, women could do it all and they had the right to do as much or as little as they wanted. He wasn’t out to set societal standards for all womankind. He just wanted a certain type of woman, preferably one who wouldn’t pretend to be one thing, turn into something else, then leave him for his brother.

“Turn left up here, where those cars are parked.” Sid had been giving him directions since they’d left the restaurant. He hadn’t bothered to argue with her statement about them having sex. He’d made his stance clear that morning and would not be swayed.

At least not from the neck up. From the neck down was a different story.

Once he’d parked the car and cut the engine, Lucas recognized the building before him. “This is Arthur Berkowitz’s law office. What are we doing here?”

“Wrong again, Dempsey. This
was
Arthur Berkowitz’s law office.” She flopped a hand toward the building like a game show model showing off the next item up for bid. “Now it’s Artie B’s Island Theater.”

He leaned forward and looked up. Sure enough, those four words flashed on a gaudy red and blue neon sign
hanging from the roof peak. “You have got to be kidding me.” Artie had said there were no takers for the practice, but a movie theater?

“I need a bathroom stop and time to get popcorn so hurry up.” Sid dashed out of the car and jogged through the drizzle to stand under the rusty awning covering the front door.

She might be the least pretentious woman he’d ever met. Whatever tactics she planned to use to lure him into bed, sophistication and charm would not be among them.

Lucas hurried through the rain, locking the car on his way, then shuffled Sid through the door. A bell rang over their heads, causing him to look up. That same bell had been there during the summers he worked for Artie.

Further proof nothing ever changed on this island.

The reception window—still in the same place—slid open as they approached. “Well if it isn’t Lucas Dempsey, prodigal lawyer. Come to check out the old digs?”

“Something like that.” Movie posters lined walls that once held Artie’s framed college degrees—one from Georgetown, the other from Duke. Spending the majority of his career on Anchor Island had been a waste of both in Lucas’s opinion.

“Good to see you getting out and enjoying the island a bit. I remember you were always griping as a teen that there was nothing to do. Plenty to do around here these days.” Artie beamed through the window opening, as if he’d heard the conversation they’d had at the restaurant.

“What’s playing tonight, Artie?” Sid asked, pulling cash from her front pocket.

“I’ll get the tickets,” Lucas said.

“You paid for dinner. I’ll get the tickets.” She laid ten dollars on the counter.

“Tonight we’re showing one of my favorites.
The Fugitive
.” Artie slid the ten back Sid’s way. “The tickets are on the house. Thanks to you two I don’t have to run the movie for an empty theater. Hard to bring folks out on a rainy Wednesday night.”

Sid tried to argue, but Artie disappeared from the window and reappeared through the doorway to their left. “Come get yourself some popcorn and then take your seats. Show starts in five minutes.” He pulled the door wide, showing them into a large room full of couches of varying shapes and sizes. “Maybe we’ll get some other stragglers before then.”

Sid shot Lucas a challenging look as she spoke to Artie. “We don’t mind watching the movie alone.”

Sitting in a darkened room, on a couch, alone with Sid. His brain said not a good idea, but other parts of his anatomy were all for it.

“What kind of theater has couches instead of chairs?” Lucas asked. Theaters had seats. Individual, hard, uncomfortable seats. With protective and immovable arms between them.

“The welcoming kind,” Artie said, an innocent grin splitting his chubby face.

“You go grab our … uh … couch, Sid. I want to talk to Artie for a second.” Time to discuss the Ledbetter fiasco and nip this legal advice crap in the bud.

“Extra butter on your popcorn?” she asked, walking backward toward a large red popcorn machine.

“Yeah, thanks.” Turning to Artie he said, “I don’t appreciate you sending the Ledbetters to see me this morning.”
Had it really only been this morning? From his inadvisable encounter with Sid on the beach to now felt more like a week had gone by.

“Aw,” Artie said, waving Lucas’s words away. “They just needed a mediator to help ’em work out that tree issue. I’m out of the business now, but I knew you could handle it.”

“Artie.” Lucas ran a hand through his hair, struggling to remain patient with his former boss. “I am on this island for one reason: to run my family’s restaurant while my dad recovers. I am not here to practice law, mediate tree issues, or take over your practice. And don’t think I don’t know that’s what you’re up to.”

The lawyer cum theater owner looked wounded, revealing acting skills that would have been priceless when applied in a courtroom. “I object to your accusation.”

Clearly you could take the man out of the lawyering but not the lawyering out of the man.

“Object all you like, but I’m on to you, Arthur Berkowitz.” Lucas pointed a finger at the opposing counselor’s chest. “Don’t send anyone else to see me about a legal matter. I practice in Richmond, not here.”

“But your license to practice in Virginia is good here too,” Artie pointed out, unfazed by Lucas’s stern tone. The man was being obtuse on purpose.

“Irrelevant. Let it go, Artie. I’m not moving back here.”

But if I did, I could have Sid.

That disturbing thought took him by such surprise, Lucas actually stepped back, bumping into the fake fern behind him. Where in the hell did his brain get off throwing that kind of bullshit into the ether? And no he could not have Sid. He didn’t even want Sid. The woman would have
him jumping off a pier into shark-infested waters within hours.

“You all right there, Lucas? You look like you’re having a stroke.”

Lucas wasn’t sure what the symptoms of a stroke might be, but if sudden loss of sanity was one, he could definitely be in trouble.

Shaking his head as if to eject the crazy thoughts out his ears, Lucas stepped forward again. “I’m fine. Sugar rush from the cheesecake I had at the marina.”

Right. Sugar was doing this to his system. He looked to his left and spotted Sid leaning over the back of a cushy, red leather sofa, watching him with a look that made him feel like
he
should have been on the dessert menu. Damn woman.

“Just remember what I said, Artie.” He walked into the theater, tempted to claim a couch of his own. But that would reveal a weakness that Sid would no doubt pounce on until she had him moaning against that hot little body of hers.

Be strong, Dempsey. That way madness lies.

When Lucas finally joined her on the red sofa, Sid had no idea what to do next. She’d been talking big all night. Talking big had been her specialty for years. And in most cases, she could back it up with action. But in this moment, she was totally out of her element.

Sid had never seduced anyone. In fact, she could count her sexual encounters on one hand and still have three fingers left over. The dating pool wasn’t deep on Anchor. Most o
f the males on the island saw Sid as one of the guys, which never bothered her. Much. Unless they made some joke about her liking other women. She’d punched men for lesser transgressions.