Page 25 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
Chapter 8
“Itold you I want everything you have. Good, bad or otherwise.”
“I still can’t figure your angle.”
He laughed and put his exceptional hand on my thigh. The immediate burst of lust gave me pause, made my heart bubble up and my chest tighten. It would be so easy to get drawn in, to extend our affair, keep it going until the lust tempered. But what if it didn’t?
What if there is more than lust between you, Lissy?
“Quit stalling. You know you’re going to tell me your big dark secret. You know I will accept whatever it is you thought you had to hide.”
When he said things like that, and meant it, I had the feeling we were more, that we could be a hell of a lot more than a holiday affair.
I cleared my throat in that stereotypical way, exaggerating the gesture and making him chuckle. He squeezed my thigh and made that hot burst of pleasure go through me again, the one I knew very well was only partly lust in spite of my best resistance to the notion.
“I was adopted.” My heart rose to my throat.
If I’d been trying to shock Mr. Cool not quite the art-student, it hadn’t worked and all I’d done was give myself palpitations. He squeezed my hand and I went on, calming, and realizing I needed to expose the likely elephant that would have been parked front and center in my parents’ dining room for the entire dinner.
“I didn’t find out until my freshman year of high school at Cold Spring. Margo and I were pals, cheerleaders together at the pokey little school. We ended up as valedictorian and salutatorian at graduation. We’d made plans to go to New York City together after college. It was a tough road for Margo when her parents died and she had to work her way through college, but she did. In New York City.”
“Are you going to make me ask how you found out about being adopted, why it wasn’t until high school?” His words were raspy with empathy, compelling. I nodded and wondered why there were no tears, wondered how I kept my heart inside me as it beat at the walls of my chest.
“Of course. It’s the best part.” I wasn’t sure if I was being ironic or honest. At the time, I remember putting aside all the questions, all the scary feelings of being dislodged. Then, I’d focused on the money.
“I found out I was adopted because my birth father’s mother left me a small fortune—enough for me to go to my dream college. Enough so that when I got out, I could afford to move to New York City and buy an investment stake in a development company and earn enough money to live in my swanky apartment. Ex-apartment.”
He let out a whistle. I laughed a miserable laugh of commiseration.
“That was a lot to deal with as a teenager,” he said, caressing my face with a glance from those emotionally charged eyes. I waved a hand and told the truth.
“Don’t worry about little Lissy. I took on the whole Cinderella mantle, convinced I was the lost princess of some great royal—or at least wealthy as sin—parents. I tried finding out more about my birth father, but he’d shielded himself well, the way the rich do. I did find out enough to know that I’d been the love child of his mistress. My grandmother knew about her, my mother, and had shamed her into giving me up for adoption.” The next breath shook as I blew it out, wrestling with the likelihood that my assumption was true. It had to be. I went on in a quieter voice.
“She hadn’t insisted on keeping me, hadn’t insisted that my father pay for me all his life and be involved the way…” I turned away from his stormy compassionate face. Looking at my reflection in the window, wondering for the trillionth time who I looked like. With an insistent touch of his hand he brought my head around to face him again. It felt warm against my cheek and I wondered if it was him or my newly persistent habit of blushing with embarrassment.
Tightening my jaw against his comfort because I was determined that I didn’t need his sympathy or empathy or whatever the hell he was offering—my damn pride at play—and continued with flippancy.
“My grandmother was evil, like some real-life Cruella. In the end, the old woman must have felt guilty because she’d set aside a sum in her will to me, knowing who I’d been adopted by, and saw to it that I got the money. And nothing else from them.
“The whole adoption and inheritance thing was very disorienting but it also explained why I’d always had that sense of not belonging. I was always the smartest and most ambitious. My parents were always proud, but a little bewildered by me. I love them.” I fought the urge to sigh onto his shoulder.
“That’s a lot to carry around. You ever think about letting it all go?”
“What do you mean? Let go of my birthright? How could I? It’s who I am.”
I shook my head and refused to credit his suggestion, never mind that Margo had said the same thing to me long ago. More than once. I knew deep down it was why I was reluctant to tell her about my business failing.
“You will be who you are no matter what, Lissy. I meant letting go of the need to prove yourself to your birth father.”
I knew what he meant. Margo had also said that same thing. They were both wrong.
“I’m not trying to prove anything to him. He’ll never know anyway, will he?” It was my standard response, but it sounded less than convincing this time in spite of the flawless logic.
He let go of his caress, moving his hand from my face. I caught a pang that almost came out as a sob of disappointment. He gave me another gentle squeeze of my thigh.
“Thank you for sharing so much with me.” His voice was like balm, and without judgment. I’d counted on his understanding, knew he’d give it without knowing how I could, without even knowing his last name. I decided to forget about his brief questioning of my psyche, his implication that I had unnecessary baggage.
“We’re almost to your home. Only a few minutes away according to our navigator,” he said. My heart twitched at him sayingournavigator. There was a touch of excitement in his soothing voice when he added, “I truly can’t wait to meet your parents.”
