Page 4 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
Chapter 2
Whoever he was, he was probably right.
“You’re pretty nervy.” I didn’t say the impliedfor an Uber driver, but my tone let it slip.
He turned his keen sexy blue eyes on me and there was no anger, no defensiveness, no self-righteous indignation to be seen. The man was as unfluttered as an eagle riding on the wind. Maybe I was the prey. I shuddered just a little, trying to keep it to myself.
Maybe I wanted to be the prey.
“You still have friends. Tell me about your friends who live on Fifth Ave.”
Yesterday I would have told him it was none of his damn business, but I mentally shrugged, pushing off the old Melissa rule about talking to strangers because let’s face it, ludicrously hot men didn’t count as strangers, did they?
“Margo & George. Margo and I grew up together like sisters. She’s one of the best people I know. It wasn’t a year ago since she lived in a rent-controlled hovel. She worked her way through school, struggled mightily to get herself on the verge of independence. Then she was swept up by the wealthy and oh-so-hunky heir to the Regal Department Store dynasty. She’s proof that Cinderella lives and breathes.”
“And yet you’re not jealous.” He sounded certain.
I shrugged. The intimate accuracy of his words stung.
We rolled to a stop in the conga line of cars in the stop-light dance of New York City traffic. He turned and I met his gaze while he gave me a long look with something like admiration in his eyes, matching the tone of his voice. My eyes skittered away from the familiarity, his audacity in the simple open stare felt bolder than if he’d let out a wolf-whistle.
I waved a hand to dismiss the notion but it was all an act. If his small nod and the crinkle at the edge of his eyes was any tell, I think he knew it was an act. A terrible act when I was usually so good at being off-hand about important things. It was the way of the young urban crowd, wasn’t it?
I felt as if he’d uncovered my vulnerable underbelly when he’d pinned me with my selfless love of Margo. It was something so basic and automatic and deep that I never considered it. I felt naked. Yet, it wasn’t his fault. I’d been behaving like a stripper, baring myself, letting whatever lurked inside my murky head and normally closed heart to hang out.
My phone rang then, saving me from flaunting my deepest secrets further. I saw it was Roy. He’d always been a prince, now he was my white knight. I smiled and felt a rush of warmth. Tapping the phone, I put it to my ear. I knew Mr. Sexy Uber Driver would hear everything, but I didn’t care. He’d already seen me naked, hadn’t he? I wanted to talk to Roy, to feel like we were still connected.
“Missy, I don’t know how you did it, but your Christmas gift is over the top wonderful and generous. My wife wants to adopt you.”
Shoving aside the familiar stab inflicted by the word adopt—because Roy hadn’t meant anything by it, didn’t know all my secrets—I smiled. “So glad you like it, Roy. Figured it was better than a scarf.”
He scoffed into the phone and my mouth went into a grin and I stopped trying to hold back my pleasure at being Santa Claus.I think I’ll miss being Santa Claus most of all now that I’m poor.I slid a peek at my hunky driver and saw the dimpled smile, but he was watching the road.
“You know I’ll get plenty of scarves from the other tenants.” Roy paused a beat. “You sure you can afford this gift, Missy?”
“Don’t you worry about me, Roy. I finagled it. My last hurrah.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say. You have a very blessed and merry Christmas, young lady. Take care of yourself and come back soon.”
“I will, Roy. Merry Christmas.” I snicked off the call and leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes. A mixture of elation and sadness, a very strange mixture, filled me and conspired to make me almost cry. Watery eyes turned to real tears and I looked out the window, swiping them away. What the hell was wrong with me? I never cried.
Not even when I found out I’d lost everything in that fateful meeting at the bank, and not even at Margo’s wedding—although I had to work hard at holding it in then.
I jumped when I felt a touch on my arm and looked to see Mr. Adonis holding out a tissue, his eyes still on the road. I took it and dabbed at my eyes, then took a deep breath, no longer embarrassed because, after all, he was a stranger. It was like crying all by myself, wasn’t it?
“I don’t know what got into me. I don’t usually get this sappy about Christmas.”
“It’s good to cry happy tears and I could tell they were happy tears.”
I laughed.
“I think they might have been sad too. I lost everything, remember?”
“I think you’re pretty relaxed for someone who supposedly lost everything.”
“What do you meansupposedly? I did lose everything and I’m actually very distraught.” His eyes were back on the road as the car crawled forward in the traffic. But I kept on, needing to convince him. “Funnily enough, all the anxiety seems to have disappeared for the moment. In fact, I feel like I’m in a bubble outside of myself right now, like I’m in another person’s life. I must be in shock.”
What the hell was I rambling on about? I looked out the window since I was flustered and didn’t want him to know. We were engaged in some kind of chess match now, I had that feeling about him, like we were opponents. Intimate opponents in a soul-deep game of wills.
