He stopped walking, stopped kissing me and his head jerked back while mine lifted up. We looked at each other.
The pounding came again, louder and more insistent this time.
“What the fuck?” Luke muttered.
“Ava, open the door! I know you’re on the back porch!” Sissy shouted and then pounded again while my mouth dropped open. What on earth was Sissy doing there? “Don’t make me walk back there, I have suitcases!” she yelled.
Oh shit.
“Jesus Christ,” Luke mumbled and dropped me to my feet.
“That’s Sissy,” I told him over the pounding.
“No kidding,” he was joking but he wasn’t laughing.
Eek.
Someone was not happy to be interrupted.
I’m not happy either, Bad Ava complained.
Good Ava had no comment.
I skirted passed him to the door but before I could open it, he pulled me back, arm at my waist.
“What are you doing?” I asked still over the pounding as he shoved me behind him, unlocked the deadbolt and the chain and opened the door.
Sissy was standing there, arm up, hand in mid-pound. She stopped dead when she caught sight of Luke and gawked. Full on, mouth-opened, eyes bugged out, gawked.
“Holy crap,” she breathed.
“Sissy, what are you doing here?” I asked, peeking around Luke’s body.
Sissy (and I could see the effort it took her) tore her eyes from bare-chested Luke and looked at me. She took in my messy hair, the glasses I wore only at home (if I could help it) and pajamas and shouted, “Holy crap!”
I slid in front of Luke, grabbed Sissy’s still-upraised wrist and pulled her into the entryway.
“What are you doing here?” I repeated.
She was looking between Luke and I and blinking slowly.
“What?” she asked in a dazed voice.
“You’re supposed to be in Wyoming.”
She focused on me. “The cops called, said you were kidnapped. Since it had to do with Dom and they thought whoever it was might come after me next, the Denver boys warned the local authorities in Wyoming and they came by my Mom’s house to talk about protection. I packed up early this morning and hauled ass down here.” Then realizing where she was and the current scenario of our lives her eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were kidnapped?”
Uh-oh.
“Um…” I mumbled.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were kidnapped.”
“Sissy, honey –”
“When a girl gets laid, she tells her best friend. When a girl finds a lump, she tells her best friend. When a girl finds a kickass shade of nail polish, she tells her best friend. And, I might add, when a girl gets kidnapped, she tells her best friend!” Sissy was shouting when she finished.
“Sissy, calm down.”
“I will not calm down,” she was still yelling and she turned her eyes to Luke. “Where were you when this happened, stud?”
Oh no. Sissy was channeling Olivia Newton-John from Grease. It was never good when Sissy channeled Sandy’s Pink Lady from the finale. Sissy didn’t normally lose her temper; usually sweet as pie, totally Sandy. She had not a single thread of Rizzo in her. When Sissy channeled Pink Lady Sandy, the results were disastrous.
I chanced a glance at Luke and he was smiling his sexy half-grin.
Shit.
“Luke, can you get her bags?” I asked and didn’t wait for his response. I pulled Sissy into and through the living room directly to the kitchen.
I stopped and turned to her. “Pull yourself together,” I hissed.
“Pull myself… pull myself…” she stammered, eyes wide. “Pull myself together!” she shouted then, still shouting, she cried, “Last time I talked to you, you were going out on the town, had everything sorted with these shit-hot private eye guys and were sworn off men forever. Hours later, you’ve been kidnapped, Mr. Beefcake’s in there barely clothed and you’re in your pajamas and glasses for God’s sake!” She stopped and looked around in mock confusion. “Have I entered an alternate universe?”
“I haven’t had a chance to call.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“We got home late.”
“We?”
“Sissy!”
She glared at me. Then I watched as her face fell, the anger faded, her eyes started shimmering and Pink Lady Sandy was a memory.
“I got my best friend kidnapped,” she whispered and then burst into tears.
I pulled her into my arms and held on tight. As I absorbed her shaking sobs into my body, I double-vowed revenge against Dominic Fucking Vincetti (rat-bastard).
“Sissy,” I murmured into the top of her hair and that was when I saw Luke leaning against the doorframe between the living and dining rooms. He’d put on a t-shirt, done up his belt, his eyes were on me and I could see the warmth in them from across the room.
Crapity, crap, crap, crap.
“You could have been hurt,” Sissy mumbled.
“I wasn’t,” I said, totally unable to take my eyes from Luke.
“You could have,” Sissy went on.
“I’m fine,” I assured her.