“Neither option. I want to try to get more women into the bar, so I want to try out a few ‘Girls’ Night Out’ drinks to put on special a few nights a week.” With her forearm, she swept the lingering hair out of her face. “I’m going to make them tonight and see which ones are a hit.”
“So you’ll be shitfaced before nine.” I crossed my arms and gave her a once-over. A steaming mug of tea sat on the counter, half-empty already. I’d gone to three different stores before I found some tea that would fit in my Keurig, since she’d mentioned she liked to drink it when stressed. I’d have to dump it all in the garbage when she left, because I hated the shit. “Sounds like an excellent plan.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed her wallet off the counter. “How much do I owe you for the booze and the tea?”
“Nothing.”
“Lucas—”
“I said nothing.” I pushed off the counter and took two plates out of the cabinet. “I’ll be drinking tonight, too, so it’s only fair I pay, since you’re making them for us.”
She blinked at me. “You want to drink cocktails? Call me crazy, but they don’t seem like they’re your thing. You’re more of a whiskey guy.”
“Yeah, but you can’t have a successful experiment without test subjects.” I pointed to my chest. “And I am your very willing subject.”
She didn’t talk for a second, just stared at me, all rosy cheeks and blue eyes. I was two seconds from taking it back. It was a stupid idea and an even stupider sentiment.
What the hell had I been think—?
“Thank you,” she said softly. Her sapphire eyes glowed with that certain something that told me she was thinking how nice I was. “I’d appreciate that.”
I frowned. “Stop it. You’re doing it again.”
“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled. She didn’t need to ask what I was yelling at her for anymore. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or bad. “Want to punch me in the face to remind me how horrible you truly are?”
I cupped her chin, gently guiding her face toward mine. She joked about it, but it wasn’t a joke to me. “I might be an asshole and a killer and a criminal . . . but I’d never, ever lay a finger on you. Not in a million years.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you really do.” I skimmed my fingers over her soft skin. “I’d die before letting anyone hurt you, whether that person’s myself or someone else.”
She licked her lips, those eyes of hers still glowing that same damn way. But for once, I didn’t care. “Lucas . . .” Hesitantly, she lifted up on tiptoe, rested her hands on my shoulders, and pressed her lips to my cheek. I caught her hips in my hands, holding on to her tightly, but I didn’t pull her closer. Didn’t try to make it into something it wasn’t. As she pulled back, she pressed her palm over my heart and smiled up at me. “You might not be a nice guy, or someone I should like, but tough shit. I do like you. I like you a lot, and nothing you say or do will change that.”
I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry as the Sahara. “You shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, well. I do.”
She kissed me one last time, on the mouth this time. Her lips barely touched mine, in all reality, and the whole thing lasted two seconds, if that. It had been the slightest of touches, barely a kiss at all, and innocent as the fresh-fallen snow I’d been watching earlier. It had been a gesture of gratitude and friendship, and I knew it. But even knowing that . . .
It affected me more than any other kiss I’d ever had before.
And that scared the hell out of me.
CHAPTER 14
HEIDI
A couple of hours later, I mixed the next drink on my list, tapping my foot along to the music I’d started playing after Chris and Lucas had left. Surprisingly, Lucas had kept it on throughout dinner, and even after, while we’d talked. And we’d certainly talked. A lot. Maybe he’d sensed that when I was nervous, I needed a beat to distract me from the shit storm my life usually was. It soothed me and made me less jittery. And after that attack from Chris, I’d needed to soothe my nerves way too freaking badly.
Tea hadn’t been enough.
I stole a quick peek at him. He sat at the dining room table, his legs stretched straight under the table, slouched back in his chair. He’d changed into a pair of jeans and a tight T-shirt—blue, of course—and his reddish-brown hair stood on end from him dragging his hands through it all night long. He’d been doing that a lot.
I had a feeling that calmed his nerves, much like my tea and music.