Wicked Christmas Nights. Leslie Kelly
had been inside had contained some kind of liquid. And it was broken.
“You didn’t,” she whispered, her voice thick. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears.
Jude shrugged. “Hey, just figured it must not have been important if you left it here, so I was gonna pitch it.”
It looked as though the bastard already had. Against a wall.
Furious, Ross took another step toward him. “You petty little douchebag.” This time, Lucy was too distracted by the ruined gift in her hands to stop him.
Good. That left Ross free to grab a fistful of her ex-boyfriend’s top and shove him back into his apartment. The guy tripped over a table, stumbling backward a few steps before falling on his arrogant ass.
“Take another step and I’ll call the cops!” he shrieked. Obviously pretty boy wasn’t used to anybody threatening his perfect, spoiled little self.
“I could knock out your teeth before they get here,” Ross growled.
The other guy scrambled backward as Ross stalked him, step by step.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” he said. “Lucy, come on, you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. It was an accident.”
“Accident my ass,” Ross said as he leaned down and hauled the guy up by the collar of his J. Crew sweater.
His right hand curled into a fist but before he could let it fly, Lucy grabbed his arm. “Let him go. Please, Ross, let’s just get out of here.” She cast her ex a withering look. “Hey, he did me a favor. If there was any doubt in my mind that he’s a disgusting, hateful person, this eliminated it.”
“Babe…”
“Bite me, Jude,” she snapped.
Ross grinned, then, for good measure, pushed the dude backward until he hit the couch, sprawling out on it.
Ross glanced at Lucy, seeing she’d hugged the package to her chest, apparently not caring that it was wet. It was like seeing someone who’d lost their most prized possession. Nobody deserved to be cheated on, humiliated and then, to top it all off, have something important to them shattered. Remembering what she’d said about it being just the two of them after their parents had died, he felt his heart twist in his chest, knowing how much her brother’s gift must have meant to her.
His own family drove him crazy sometimes—especially his overly controlling father—but he couldn’t imagine life without them. She was so young to bear that kind of sadness. One thing he knew, Lucy Fleming had to be one hell of a strong young woman. And a forgiving one, if she was determined to stop him from kicking her ex’s ass.
“Please, can we just go?” she asked.
Yeah. She seemed pretty determined. That was lucky for the ex, even though it didn’t make Ross too happy.
“Fine,” he told her.
He took her arm and led her to the door, glancing back over his shoulder before they walked through it. The ex still sat there on the couch, a sneer curling his lips. As if he were the injured party in this whole rotten mess.
The boiling well of anger inside him had rolled back to a slow simmer, and Ross knew he had to get out of here before it boiled back up. Mr. J. Crew dickhead had finally realized the merits of shutting the hell up, but that look on his face was seriously pissing Ross off. If he opened his mouth again, or if one single tear fell out of Lucy’s eyes, he was gonna go postal on the squirmy punk.
Her hand tightened on his arm, as if she knew what he was thinking. So he wouldn’t do it. But something wouldn’t let him leave without one more parting shot. “Hey, dude, don’t worry, I wouldn’ta hit you. Wouldn’t risk damaging that pretty face of yours, ’cause it sounds to me like you really need it.”
“What do you mean?” the other man snapped, starting to rise from his seat. Emboldened, perhaps, by the thought that Ross was admitting he wouldn’t have hit him?
Just give me a reason, punk.
Ross shrugged as Lucy stepped into the hallway ahead of him. “I mean, it sounds like you need whatever help you can get. From what I hear, you not only have a scrawny neck, you have a scrawny dick as well.” Tsking, he shook his head. “Even worse, a sad, strange-looking one.”
The other guy’s face erupted in scarlet, and he sputtered, but couldn’t come up with anything to say. Which, in Ross’s mind, confirmed what Lucy had said about him. A guy with an ounce of self-confidence would have laughed, or sneered. Jude just looked like he wanted to call Mommy and make the new kid stop saying mean things to him.
“Oh, by the way,” he added. “Happy birthday.”
Ross slammed the door, not waiting for Jude to come up with a crushing reply. Not that he could, really, because, man, any guy who couldn’t defend himself against small-cock accusations didn’t have much of a leg to stand on.
It wasn’t until they were alone in the elevator, heading toward the bottom floor, that he looked down and saw Lucy’s shoulders shaking. It was as if she’d held herself together, keeping her emotions in check until she got out of sight of her ex, but now that they were alone, her sadness over the day’s events had come crashing down on her.
He turned her toward him. Ross fully intended to take her into his arms, awkwardly pat her back or whatever guys Did to console crying women. But before he could do it, he realized he’d made a big mistake.
“Oh…my…God…” she said between gasps, which weren’t caused by tears, but rather, by laughter. She looked up at him, her lips shaking, her eyes twinkling with merriment. “Did you see his face?”
“I saw,” he said, smiling down at her, so pleased she wasn’t brokenhearted over creepy Jude that he wanted to pick her up and swing her around in his arms.
“Thank you so much,” she said. “You were my knight in shining armor.”
He grinned and gestured toward his bomber jacket. “Carpenter in tarnished leather, at best.”
Her pretty mouth widened in a smile. “Either way…my hero.” Then, still looking playful, happy, appreciative, she rose on her tiptoes and reached up to brush her delicate fingers against his cheek. He had about a second to process what she was about to do before she pressed her soft lips against his.
It was a thank-you kiss, he had no doubt about that.
Sweet. Tender. Simple.
Incredibly good.
It should have been nothing but a three-second brush of skin on skin, an expression of gratitude between two people who didn’t really know each other yet but definitely wanted to.
But damned if Ross was willing to let it go down that way. Once he felt Lucy’s mouth, shared her sweet breath, impulse took over. He lifted both hands, cupping one around her cheek. The other he tangled in her long, thick hair, taking pure pleasure in the softness of it, letting it glide through his fingers like water.
He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue out to tease hers. Lucy groaned slightly, taking what he offered and upping the ante even more by tilting her head and widening her mouth. Thank you and you’re welcome turned into I-want-you and where’s the nearest bed in about ten seconds flat. Sweetness faded and heat erupted as their tongues thrust and twined.
“Ahem.”
It took a second for the voice to intrude. But another throat-clearing and a titter finally invaded his Lucy-in-fused consciousness. It appeared they’d arrived at the bottom floor. The door had slid open and they were providing quite a show for the people waiting in the lobby.
Filled with regret, he pulled away, looking down into her pretty, flushed face, seeing the way her long lashes rested on her high cheekbones. She kept her eyes closed a moment longer, swaying a little toward him. But the box pressed against her