Lucky's Choice (The Last Riders #7)

“Just that T-shirt. It’s ugly as shit.”


Willa hadn’t thought the bright yellow shirt was that bad. She had found it on the clearance rack at a high-end store. She hadn’t believed her luck when she had found one in her size. Well, it might have been a little too large, she thought to herself, seeing it float away.

“Aren’t you going to get it for me?”

“Hell no. Just think of how many lives it will save,” Lucky replied with a grin.

“It’s a good thing I’m a good Christian, or I would let you have it,” she said, not liking the fixed gleam in his eyes as he moved closer. “Don’t you dare.”

As his hands went to her waist, tugging at her shorts, she screamed in frustration.

“I’m going to kick your butt, and I’m big enough to do it,” she threatened to no avail, seeing her black shorts float away seconds later.

His laughter was cut short when she splashed water into his face. Before he could react, she began swimming toward the bank.

“I’m going to see your ass when you get out of the water,” Lucky yelled at her back.

She quit swimming.

“Darn it.” Her fist hit the water angrily, spraying it into her face.

Lucky’s arms circled her waist from behind, pressing his chest against her back. His hand flattened against her stomach. Then she felt it curve around the bulge that several hours on her treadmill wouldn’t get rid of, making her self-conscious.

She felt his lips exploring the side of her neck as he pressed even closer to her backside, and her hands clutched his at the wrists, trying to pull them away.

“Siren … You’re so beautiful.”

Weakly, her head fell back against his shoulder, wondering which was burning her worse—the sun or Lucky. Both were going to burn her alive and leave their mark if she didn’t move away from his touch.

“Lucky…”

The tips of his fingers slid under the band of her swimsuit, not moving farther. The small intimacy made her shake in the shallow water as he tugged her back into the deeper part of the lake before turning her around to face him. His hand glided around to her back, his fingertips brushing at the top of her butt.

Her nails dug into the flesh of his shoulder. “I can’t—”

“Sh … Siren, trust me.” His lips took hers gently, letting her set the pace of the first kiss they’d shared since the night of her bachelorette party.

The peace of the lake made her feel as if they were the only two people in existence as she parted her lips, letting him explore her mouth with the glide of his tongue. Her own traced his bottom lip, nipping it softly, and a groan sounded from deep within his chest.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Siren, the only thing that hurts is how badly I want you.”

“Why do you call me siren?”

“Because your soul calls to mine.”

“What does it say?” Willa teased.

“It says, I love you.” Revealing that he was more then aware that she was in love with him.

As her face turned serious, she started to turn away from his intent gaze.

“My soul calls to yours, too,” he continued.

“It does?”

Lucky nodded his head.

“What does it say?” Willa whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

“It says, I love you, too.”

“Lucky…” She didn’t know how to respond to his admission, too afraid to believe he really loved her. Doubt began to rear its head, making her believe he couldn’t love her … a woman so different from the other women he had been with.

“Don’t, siren. I know exactly what my soul is telling me. My stomach, too.”

“What’s your stomach saying?”

“Feed me.”

“That one, I believe.” Willa laughed as Lucky waded out of the water.

She stopped in her tracks, seeing the tats covering his back all the way down to his feet. She swallowed hard as he bent down to pick up his T-shirt, sliding it over his head.

“Dammit.” She had missed another opportunity to get a good look at the tats on his chest.

Lucky pulled his cross necklace out from under his T-shirt. “What did you say?”

“I’m hungry, too.” Willa consoled herself with the fact that it wasn’t technically a lie as she came out of the water, only then remembering her clothes were gone.

She picked up one of the towels she had brought, drying off. When she would have wrapped it around herself, Lucky stopped her.

“Let the air dry you. Come and help me move the table to the shade.”

Willa placed the towel on the bench before picking up one end of the table as Lucky picked up the other side. When they set it down, she noticed it fit down into four perfect grooves of dried earth.

“Does it usually sit over here?”

He sat down on the bench, pulling a sandwich out of the basket. “Yep.”

“Then how did it get by the water?”

“I have no idea,” he said, taking a large bite of sandwich.

“Are your fingers crossed?” Willa asked suspiciously, staring at his fingers.