Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“It’s been twenty years, and I keep praying something will help Lucas get past it, but nothing has yet. Maybe you can reach him.”
“I’ll try.” I placed my hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed it. “I promise.”
I studied psychology to help understand human beings and why they acted the way they did, and in the process, hopefully, help them become their better selves. I never imagined in a million years the first human who needed my help after graduation would be a brooding billionaire I nannied for. Fate sure had an odd sense of humor.
31
Lucas
I strolled through my apartment door around eight o’clock. My cheeks resembled a lobster’s from the sun and wind, and the pint of bourbon was gone. I didn’t have a care in the world—except the date the woman who’d wiggled herself under my skin had tonight.
I slammed the front door a little too hard, and my sister ran around the corner of the hallway into the entrance area.
“Oh my God, Lucas.” She held her hand to her chest and breathed hard, blue eyes round as saucers. “You gave me quite the fright.”
“Sorry, sis.” My words slurred, and her eyebrows raised to her hairline.
“Let me smell your breath,” she demanded, her hands on her hips.
“I have a daughter around here.” I glanced over the living area, not seeing Esmé anywhere.
“She’s been asleep for a while. God, I love her. She’s so precious, and the best little thing too. But don’t change the subject, buster.”
“Fine. I’ve been drinking on a boat with Captain Pete. We sailed around Manhattan today pretending to be pirates.”
Captain Pete had an extra bottle of whiskey onboard. He charged me an obscene amount for it too, but it did the trick of keeping me numb.
“You do smell like fish. Go take a shower and put some lotion on your face. It’s beet red. I’ll make you some coffee. We need to talk about Maggie.”
“Maggie. Maggie. Maggie.” Why couldn’t I escape her name?
I shuffled off to the shower and put on clean clothes that didn’t smell like cod liver oil. I’d have to burn this suit. I toed off my dress shoes, not bothering to untie them. My feet were red from the sun too. I’d lounged barefoot on the bow, wind whistling through my hair.
I forgot about my responsibilities, my past, but not her. I ran out of booze before that happened.
I followed the smell of fresh-brewed coffee into the kitchen after I’d cleaned up and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. My hair was still wet, but the hot shower helped wake me up. I was far from sober, though. I was at the classy drunk stage. Sober enough to still have manners, but unable to fully walk a straight line.
Chloe poured a cup of coffee for us both, adding the perfect amount of milk, and carried them over to the dining room table. Since she was holding the coffee mugs, I figured I was supposed to join her at the table.
I took a sip of my java, and so did she, but her eyes never left me. I could feel them like prickly pins over my skin. She wanted to talk, and I wanted to avoid all conversation.
“Just spit it out,” I said into my coffee cup.
“Lucas, you know I love you.” Oh boy, this was going to be some serious shit. “But there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for years, and it’s time.”
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” I asked.
“Esmé or Maggie?” I met Chloe’s eyes. She knew. She always did.
“Both,” I confessed.
“I’ve watched you go from one woman to another for years. I was too young to realize it at the time of mom’s accident…” I pushed back my chair, making a scraping noise on the marble floor, and rose out of it. As far as I was concerned, I wasn’t going to discuss the accident with her tonight—or ever. “Stop, Lucas. Just listen to me this once. I won’t bring it up again.”
With my back toward her, I leaned over the counter. My coffee was no longer needed. Nothing like a brutal slap from my past to sober me the fuck up.
“Please, sit down,” Chloe pleaded. I looked over my shoulder, seeing tears fill her eyes.
I caved and plopped back down on my chair. Hell, I could never say no to her. I’d ruined her life, and she didn’t even know it. I owed her this one conversation at the very least.
“Thanks.” She cleared her throat. This discussion wasn’t going to be easy for either of us. “I’m not a professional, but I think you stopped growing emotionally after the accident. You quit feeling anything but hate for Dad. It’s like you’re punishing yourself.”
I was—and I deserved it.
“All those emotions have been bottled up inside you for years, and now you’re unable to contain them because you’ve met someone who made you feel.” My eyes flashed up to hers. Everything she’d said was right and I couldn’t deny it. Not to her.