“We went out of order, didn’t we? Friendship, incredible sex, and now taking it slow. We probably gave each other whiplash.” I laughed, but Lucas shut his eyes and huffed at me.
“Now what? I’m screwing up our first real date, aren’t I?”
“No, Samantha,” Lucas whispered in my ear. “Hearing you bring up the incredible sex just makes me want a lot more of it. We need a change in subject—now.”
“You thought it was incredible, too?” I gave him a devious smile. Seeing Lucas uncomfortable was rare, and I couldn’t resist busting his chops.
Lucas scowled at me, and I couldn’t help laughing. He leaned in to whisper again. “It was beyond fucking incredible, so unless you want me to drag you under the table for a repeat … Change. In. Subject.”
Heat pooled between my legs. The joke was on me now—me and my stupid rational thinking and wanting to take it slow.
I scooted away from Lucas in the booth and nodded. “Okay, point taken. We never really talked about your life in California. I usually monopolize all our conversations with my sad little problems. What was it like?”
Lucas shrugged. “There really wasn’t that much more than what I told you. San Diego was a nice city, but I worked a lot of long hours, so I didn’t get to enjoy it that much. I like my job and my life here a lot better. It really wasn’t the never-endingBaywatchepisode that you like to think it was.”
“Oh, come on. There wasn’t an endless string of blonde bombshells trying to get your attention?”
“I dated, if that’s what you’re asking, but never anything serious. Until recently, no one ever held my interest for long.” Lucas gave me a sweet smile.
“When wasrecently?” I moved closer to him and lifted his hand, interlocking our fingers. Lucas picked up our joined hands and kissed my wrist.
“Recently was about five months ago. I met a beautiful woman for a drink and have been ruined ever since.” Lucas cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Ruined?” I crinkled my nose at Lucas, and he gave me a soft kiss on the lips.
“Ruined in the best possible way.” He put his arm back around me and called the waitress over to our table to take our order.
I was ruined too. And ruined never felt so good.
Thirteen
Samantha
As I pulledinto Marc’s parents’ driveway, I felt liberated. The last of my soon-to-be ex-douchebag husband’s things were in a box in the trunk. My house was officially rid of anything that was his, and it was a heady and fanfreakingtastic feeling. When he got back from Chicago, he would have no reason to come to the house, other than to see his daughter. He hadn’t called her once in the four months he was gone, so I doubted he would try to actually see her once he got back.
Marc’s mother Jeannie answered the door with a frown on her face.
“More boxes? His old room is almost full. Is this the last of it?”
“Sure is. When he gets back from Chicago, he can come straight here.” I tried to keep the smile out of my voice as I handed over the rest of her son’s belongings.
Her brow furrowed as she glared at me. “I’ll keep them here, but it’s going to be silly when you just have to take them back home when you make up.”
I put my hand on her arm. “Jeannie, we won’t be making up. Papers have been drawn up. Locks have been changed. We’re done.” She let out a long sigh but didn’t look like she paid attention to a word I said.
“Since Marc’s job has been extended, we’d like to take Bella a couple of weekends each month. It’s nice picking her up from school once a week, but since her father left, we don’t see her as much.”
Bella was close to her grandparents, and since she had no contact with her father, I didn’t want to ruin that. Plus, being able to see Lucas on the weekends sometimes would be wonderful.
“I would be fine with that. Wait—did you just say that his job was extended?” Marc hadn’t called once in all the time he was gone. I received rare one-word text answers when I attempted to contact him.
“Oh, yes—for another three months at least. We miss him, but I’m so glad he’s doing well.” Marc’s mother idolized her son. I never knew whether to feel sorry for her or blame her for the awful way he turned out.
“Well, maybe he can speak to his daughter when she’s here since he never calls the house. You can let him know he forgot her birthday.”
“Oh, I’m sure he didn’t mean to forget. He’s very busy, and you should really cut him some slack—” I held up my hands to stop her from talking. Another great thing about getting divorced was I didn’t have to tolerate any more guilt trips from my mother-in-law.
“He’s not my problem anymore; he’s yours. We have no plans for this coming weekend. I can drop her off after her dance class Saturday morning and come to get her Sunday evening. Does that work for you?”
