Page 79 of Frenched (Frenched 1)
“Lucas Fournier. Mia has talked a lot about you.”
Gulp.
“Well.” I could hear the pleasure in Tucker’s tone. “Good things, I hope. Although I can’t imagine why. I haven’t done much to be proud of lately. But I’m going to remedy that.” And the bastard put an arm around me. “How did you meet her?”
Get out! Get out of his arms! You’re giving Lucas the wrong impression! But I was stuck inside Tucker’s iron grasp, and all I could do was plead with Lucas with my eyes to go away and let me explain later.
“Uh, I’m a bartender. Mia came into my bar the first night she was here and I recommended some sights to her.” Lucas’s voice was wooden and hollow.
“Nice. Which sights?”
“Père LaChaise cemetery. Notre-Dame.” He looked at me as he said it, and all the flirty, romantic tension that had simmered while we spent that first day together hit me full force. My stomach muscles clenched, and I wanted nothing more than to throw Tucker’s arms off me and hurl myself into Lucas’s arms. “The Rodin Museum.”
The Rodin Museum.
The memory of the afternoon we spent there was enough to snap me into action. I lifted Tucker’s arm off me. “Yes, and I loved all of them.”
“Oh, you went already? Good, that means I won’t have to go to a museum with her.” Tucker laughed and ruffled my hair. “She loves that moldy old stuff, but I don’t. Well, thanks for being kind to her. Mia, do you want to open your gift now? It’s from Chanel,” Tucker singsonged.
I’d never been more annoyed with him. My face was burning with indignation. “No. Tucker, just wait, please. Lucas—”
But he was already backing away from the door. “No problem, Mia. I can see you’re fine now. I’ll let you go.” And he turned away from me and stormed down the hall toward the elevators.
No! Don’t go!
I put my hands to my head and breathed deeply, furious at myself, at Tucker, at the universe for the poor timing of everything that just happened—Tucker’s fucking apology, Lucas showing up at my door, Tucker deciding to play the role of concerned fiancé all of a sudden. I slammed the door and whirled on him.
“You can’t just come in here and expect to have me back!” I yelled. “You don’t deserve a second chance!”
“Everyone deserves a second chance, Mia.” His face darkened. “Who was that, anyway? Did something happen between you two?”
“He’s just a friend,” I said miserably. “He was here for me when you weren’t.” And he’d come back for me. He said he couldn’t breathe without me, and he wasn’t going to let me go.
But he had.
Because he thought you were back with Tucker! screamed the inner voice, which suddenly seemed to be on Lucas’s side.
“Well, I’m here now.” Tucker came to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “And I promise I’m going to make up for all the time I wasn’t.” He put his lips on mine, and it kind of repulsed me. I turned my cheek.
“Don’t.”
Tucker sighed. “How about opening your gift?” He went over to the table and picked up the Chanel box. “I went straight to the store, didn’t even come to the hotel first. I thought you’d be here, and I wanted to have it to surprise you with.” He brought the box to me. “I know it can’t make up for what I put you through, but I just wanted to show you that I’m thinking of you and I’m going to work hard to win you back.”
I sighed. Backing up, I sat on the bench at the foot of the bed. He set the box on my lap and I opened it to find a darling rectangular handbag in pale pink with darker pink metallic cross-stitching and Chanel’s signature interlocking C’s on the flap and gold chain strap. It was beautiful.
But I didn’t want it.
“Tucker, it’s very pretty, and it’s a nice gift. But I can’t accept it.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re not getting back together.”
“Don’t say that, Mia. Please.” He dropped down in front of me again. “We had so many things planned. I still want them all. It was just cold feet, I swear. I was a fool, and I’ll never take you for granted again. I can make you happy, Mia.”
I looked into his face, the one that only weeks ago had still set my heart aflutter. The one I thought I’d want to look at every morning, every night, because it was so handsome. But the blue eyes just looked cool to me, and the neatly trimmed hair was all wrong. The perfect symmetry of his face seemed uninteresting, and even the tall, muscular body held no allure. I glanced down at his bare chest and felt only sadness—for Lucas, for myself, and even for Tucker, with this misguided attempt at winning me back.
He was doing it the best way he knew how, with flowers and money and expensive gifts, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted him to say, Of course I’ll go to a museum with you, of course I’ll take you to the flea market, and here’s that book I was telling you about…
