But there was a certain kind of happiness that he would never feel in life again, and Erin Finley deserved to know that up front.
Chapter Six
Sarah had Lucasin her sights.
Heart pounding hard in her ears, she peered from her hiding spot beneath the slide. She lined up six-foot-two inches of delectable boy through the scope on the hot-pink plastic M4 assault rifle. Tipsy from the beer she’d pounded down twenty minutes before, she savored her soon-to-be triumph. She felt good. Happy. She was in a new town where no one knew her past. A cute boy had been flirting with her ever since she had arrived, and now she was about to make the ultimate kill in laser tag.
Except something about seeing Lucas through the scope sent a creepy-crawly sensation over her skin. Her mother hadn’t been killed with a rifle. She’d been shot with a handgun at close range while working late in her studio. The police report mentioned the paint on her brush was still wet when they had arrived. She’d been working on artwork for a new fragrance bottle…
Don’t think about it.
Sarah shuffled her feet, a few wood chips slipping into her sandals and biting into her toes. Maybe it was thealcohol that messed with her reflexes and put the world in slow motion for a second. Normally, she never thought about the night her mom died.
Her eyes burned and she tried to refocus on Lucas through the scope, but she couldn’t find him?—
Beep! Beeeep! Beep!
The plastic disk strapped to her chest by a mini Velcro vest blinked and chimed, startling her. Dropping the gun, she slipped sideways, landing on her butt in the wood chips.
“Got you!” A guy shouted nearby. “You’re out of the game, New Girl!”
She’d been hit. Not with a bullet, like her mom had. Just with a laser in a dumb game. Still, her eyes scorched with angry tears she wouldnotlet fall.
Her chest ached so badly she slid a hand beneath the screaming tagger device to press her fingers into the place above her heart. Her brain told her body to pull itself together, but she seemed locked in a personal freak-out all because she’d played a glorified version of cops and robbers on a playground.
“Hey, Sarah.” The boy skidded to a stop, spraying a few wood chips against her calf.
At first, she could see only denim-covered legs, but then his knees bent until a red T-shirt and lean, muscular arms came into view.
Lucas.
Get it together!The voice inside her screamed.
He grinned, his laser gun—a black M4, which she identified thanks to the weapon tirade given by the kid who’d lent his arsenal for the massive game of tag—slung around his chest by a strap.
She wasn’t Miss Gun Control or anything. Her father had grown up in the freaking swamp deep in bayou country,so he had guns and knew how to use them. But something about a piece of crap plastic laser tag rifle was causing her to lose it in front of the cutest boy ever. She could tell he knew she was flipping out, too, because his grin turned upside down. Forehead wrinkled.
“Wow. You okay?” he asked finally after she’d sat there like a giant dumbass saying nothing for several long moments.
If that six-pack of beer had been close by, she would have chased away the sensation of phantom spiders crawling over her skin by downing a full one. Failing that, she reached for the next best thing.
“Better than okay.” Her hand landed on his knee, the warmth of his body through the denim affecting her faster than alcohol. “I’ve been waiting for you to find me.”
Her heart pounded faster as Lucas lifted a hand toward her. For a second, she thought he’d touch her. Kiss her, maybe. But he simply stabbed the off button on her electronic tagger to stop the beeping sound. He didn’t touch her, but his knuckle brushed close enough to her breast that she could feel the heat of his hand as he tugged the Velcro strap open and pulled off the device. He set it aside.
The quiet helped settle her racing heart until, slowly, the evening came back into focus. She could hear other kids’ footsteps thumping past as they chased one another to the home base under the monkey bars. Girls were laughing. Someone blasted a car radio that still wasn’t loud enough to drown out the bluegrass band performing at the other end of the town park.
“I guess you got your wish, New Girl.” Lucas ducked his head and edged closer to her. “Cuz here I am.”
“It’s Sarah,” she reminded him, brushing her hand alittle higher on his thigh to make sure he understood what she wanted.
His eyes hooded as he shifted beside her. He understood all right.
“You like making trouble, don’t you, Sarah?” His voice hummed, warm and soft in her ear.
Excitement vibrated along her skin, chasing away the sickening feeling in the pit of her gut. Lucas might be better than alcohol for forgetting her problems. She leaned forward, her lips just inches away from his. She’d never been so bold before, but she didn’t care.
She needed this.
