Lucky Baby by Taryn Quinn

Fifteen

Okay,so I wouldn’t leave him in the car. It was supposed to be near freezing tonight. That was even too cold for the human heater.

I shoved the car seat back and nudged Lucky enough that he woke up. Wonderful.

“Ruby. Ruby.” His voice was a singsong tenor crossed with a warbling bird. “Ruby of the finest beauty.”

I shook my head and slowly pulled into traffic. Handily, it was early enough that the sun should keep him from freezing his ass off. I looked at the text Gage sent me. I wasn’t exactly sure where Lucky lived, but that was what the maps app was for.

God bless Apple products. The address had turned into a hyperlink and popped open the app.

I set the phone in the cradle and turned on the radio, hoping it would drown him out. Unfortunately, Lucky was a human jukebox and seemed to know every song.

Didn’t matter the channel I changed it to, he knew them all.

When I got the urge to sing along with him, I stifled it just long enough to pull into his driveway. I was obviously losing my damn mind.

I turned off the car and he slumped in the back, pressing his cheek to the window like a forlorn very large boy. “You took the music away.”

“Time to go to bed.”

“Oh, I like that idea.” He sat up, but he got his big feet tangled and fell back again. “I might need help, Ruby.”

I slipped out of the car and glanced up at the two-story house. It was tidy with the lawn freshly mowed, and two brown bags set on the curb for pickup. The bottom level had a cheery array of fall flowers, pumpkins, and the twisted gourd things. A wreath on the door was obviously handmade with a set of small hands in the mix. The second floor had a wrought iron railing that gleamed in the late day sun. A heavy rocking chair with a sunny yellow pillow was the only decoration there.

Probably Lucky’s part of the house.

Which meant stairs. Yay me.

I glanced back at the car. Lucky was staring at me, those green eyes seeing far too much. I had a feeling most of the beer had worn off. He probably had a metabolism like a steam engine.

I pulled the lever for the seat to flip forward. “Think you can make it up the stairs, Thor?”

He held out his hand to me.

I gave him a flat stare. “You think I can pull you out?”

“You can do anything.”

“You’re literally the worst.” I leaned in to grab his arm, but he hauled me on top of him.

“Oops.”

I planted my hands on his chest and rolled my eyes. Not that sober, evidently. “Very funny.”

His hands slid down to cup my ass. “I wasn’t laughing. Just wanted to feel you on top of me again, Ruby.” He brushed his nose along mine. “I really liked when you rode me this morning.”

“All right. Enough of that.” And I would not focus on the fact that everything below my waist went liquid.

Even drunk, he was potent. Especially now that I knew what he was capable of.

“I always wanted to make out in this car. So rare for them to fit me.”

“Truck bed wasn’t enough for you?”

His eyes lost the glassy drunk gleam. Instead, they became painfully direct. “I’ll never get enough, Tish.”

He rarely said my name. Just when he was disappointed in me, and when he was slipping inside me with that ridiculously adept cock of his. I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping to his full lower lip. The top was a slash that gave his face so much character. From a grin to a snarl, his expressions always made me want to kiss him to shut him up.

Before I could lean in and do just that, a screen door slapped.

My head popped up, and I smiled at the older woman who came outside. “Can I help you? Oh, Lucky.” Her wrinkled hand went to her neck. “Who’s your lady friend?”

Lucky sighed quietly, then he craned his neck so he could see the woman. “Hey, Mrs. Newsome.” He moved his hand up to my waist. “This is my…Ruby.”

As I struggled to get off him, my knee slid a bit too close to the very happy Lucky Jr.

He hissed and lifted me off him. “Well, that’ll ruin the mood.”

Mrs. Newsome’s eyes danced. “Ruby. What a lovely name.”

“Tish.”

The older woman looked at Lucky then back at me. “You don’t know her name, Lucky?”

I pushed my hair out of the way. “He just insists on calling me Ruby. It’s fine.”

“Oh, already at the love names stage? How nice is that? Probably because of that gorgeous red hair of yours.” She patted her short, stone-gray hair. “I had red hair once upon a time. From a bottle though. Yours looks real.”

I slid onto the seat as Lucky finally maneuvered himself in a semi-seated position. It didn’t really work with his size.

“Oh, crap.” His eyes went wide. “Where’s Butch?”

“Why are you asking me? How the hell am I supposed to know?”

He clamped a hand on the back of his neck. “Fuck, I left my dog. I got drunk and left her and she’s probably wandering the streets, crying for Daddy.”

“That’s quite a picture,” Mrs. Newsome offered.

I bent until Lucky looked me in the eye. His eyes were wheeling a bit from panic. “When did you have her last?”

“On the roof. Drinking.”

“The dog?”

“No, me. Us. Though Bess came in the middle, after Caleb.” His rapid breathing slowed to a more manageable level. “My baby is with Bess. She has to be.” He started patting his pockets. “Where’s my phone?”

It took him a minute, but he found it and texted Bess with his clumsy fingers. A moment later, he dropped his head to the back of the seat with a loud exhale. “She has her. She knew we were out of control and took her to her apartment to eat goldfish crackers and watch daytime TV.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Corrupting a young mind as we speak.”

“It’s not funny. I’m a bad dad. Bad dad,” he repeated sorrowfully enough I almost felt sorry for the oaf. “I’ll make it up to her. I’ll stop drinking and change my ways.”

“Fat chance there,” I muttered.

“I’ve only been a dad for a short time. I’ll fix it.” He reached outside and opened the door, clambering out and nearly landing on the bag of leaves. He missed it and hit the grass on his hip.

I peered over the car door. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Just my dignity.” He flipped his hair back.

“So, I can go?”

“No. I need your help upstairs.”

I squinted at him. “You look fine.”

“Upstairs, woman.”

“That’s not how you get help.” I turned to Mrs. Newsome. “Sorry about this. He and his best friend decided day drinking was a good idea today.” I didn’t know how the cop fit in. I probably didn’t want to. “He hasn’t been a pet parent long either.”

“Oh, child. I’ve seen far worse from my Henry. You two go on up. We’ll take out our hearing aids.” She was surprisingly spry as she hurried into the house.

“Hear that? We can be as loud as you want.” Lucky laughed and dropped onto his back. “I’m too fucking old to drink like that.”

I got out of the car and stood over him. “If I help you up, are you going to pull me down there?”

He sighed and flung his arms wide as if he was going to make a snow angel in the very unsnowy grass. “No. You can leave me here. I’ll make it up there eventually.”

I crouched beside him. “C’mon, I’ll make you my hangover specialty—depending on what you have in your fridge.”

He opened one eye. “A bottle of tabasco sauce and eggs?”

“I can make do with that.”

He lifted his hand to a lock of hair that had slipped out of my bun. “Damn, you are beautiful.”

My chest tightened, and my belly did a little flip. Damn him. People didn’t say those kinds of things to me. I wasn’t ugly, but men often found me intimidating.

Not this one, and I couldn’t figure out why.

I sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I vote for keep me.”

“Incorrigible.” I stood and dragged him up. Kind of. He really was a damn redwood. But between us, we somehow managed to get him upright. And when he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, I caught him trying to cop a feel.

Before I could kick his ass about it, he tightened his grip and squashed me against his chest. I pinched his side. “You stink.”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t get to go home before I went over to get Butch.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “I can’t believe I abandoned my dog. What will she be like as a teenager now?”

I snorted. “I’m sure she’ll be a delinquent. C’mon, let’s get you all cleaned up.”

His shoulders hunched as he climbed the steps to the wreathless door. I held the screen door open for him. It was an old house with a narrow staircase to the second floor, and he still pinballed his way up the stairs. I resisted the urge to grip his ass and keep propelling him upward.

It wasn’t the time for that.

“C’mon, Thor. Don’t feel too bad. You’re still new at the dad thing.”

“I know. But I went over there to pick her up and I did, but then I got drunk and left her behind. Oh, and I almost got a ticket except Brady took pity on me and my girl troubles. You troubles,” he said over his shoulder.

I winced. “Now’s not the time to talk about that.”

“When are we going to talk about it?”

“After the barn is done?” Never? Please?

Couldn’t we just enjoy it for what it was? I didn’t want to think about how good it was between us. I had so much more to worry about right now.

At the top of the stairs, Lucky shouldered open the door, then dragged me through it and up onto my toes before he closed his mouth over mine. He tasted of beer and sunshine. The feeling of overwhelm slid right on into want.

I’d thought the first time was a fluke. It would be so much easier if it was. An itch to be scratched and then we could just move on. That was how it usually was when I finally let myself get naked with someone. Once the initial flash happened, the glow soon burned out like a cheap candle.

Nothing was the usual with Lucky.

I sighed into the kiss. He knew just what to do now. At first, forceful and hot, then sleepy soft. Keeping me off balance until I shut off my brain.

I looped an arm around his shoulders. His hair dripped over my arm, the wild frazzled curls just as delicious as his talented tongue. He crushed me closer, deepening the kiss until I really didn’t care about keeping it just about business.

As if I’d ever had a chance.

He twisted his fingers into the bottom of my T-shirt, dragging it up and over my head, then his mouth was back on mine.

“I’d strip you down, but you’d probably knock me out with that smell,” I said between kisses.

He laughed into my mouth. “Niceties are nonexistent with you, Ruby.”

I shrugged.

His gaze dipped down to the Batman logo bra. “That’s hotter than it should be.”

I grinned. “I like big bad boys. Guess that works for you.” I tapped a nail along his chest. “You take a shower and maybe I’ll let you take off the bra too.” I slid away from him. “I’ll make us some food.”

“Damn, I do like watching you walk away.”

I tossed a smirk over my shoulder and gave my walk a bit more of a sway.

He growled something under his breath and headed for a hallway that I presumed included a shower.

I found my shirt and slipped it back on. I might’ve been comfortable with my body, but I needed to cool things down with him. Showing off a half yard of skin was probably a little too much to keep things businesslike.

Ha, as if.

I distracted myself by looking around his space. The layout of the house reminded me of my dad’s place. An older house with small rooms and lots of wood paneling. A half wall cut up the room between living space and galley kitchen.

His place was a maze of half done projects. A gorgeous corner unit was half stained. The details on the drawers drew me in to take a closer look.

It was definitely no cheap prefab kit from a box store. I ran my hand over the wood. It wasn’t my medium, but I could tell it was solid art in furniture form. Hell, August Beck might have some competition if Lucky let people know he could do this kind of work.

Another handmade bench was in a similar state of finish. This one was stained, but he seemed to be working on another treatment other than a simple varnish. Maybe apoxy. Hmm. Interesting choice.

I crouched and noticed he’d put different woods together in a pattern that reminded me of a beach. Like something I’d seen on social media. He seemed to take kernels of ideas from viral videos and put his own spin on them.

I lifted the tarp on another piece. It was nosy as hell, but I couldn’t resist. This one was a bit more farmhouse style. It looked like something I’d find in a foyer for shoes and kids crap. Three intricate knobs in classy versions of Marvel logos were screwed into the tall backboard. The bottom had a lid set into the storage as if he wasn’t done measuring something.

I wanted it.

The need was sharp enough that I flipped the tarp back down and headed for the kitchen. Every time I thought I had Lucky Roberts figured out, he proved me wrong.

I opened the fridge and sure enough, there were a dozen eggs, tabasco, and generic brand butter. The veggie drawer was about as questionable as the pizza in my fridge the other day.

Slamming that drawer, I snagged the eggs, butter, and tabasco, dumping them on the small counter. He had an air fryer, toaster, and a blender jammed into the small space.

Surprisingly, the sink was sparkling clean. And I had to admit I was surprised there wasn’t a crumb in sight. I was almost sure I could eat off the floor too.

However, the pan situation was not ideal. The cupboard contained a mishmash of pans, cookie sheets, colanders, and plates. I shook my head. My organized soul wanted to rip it apart and force it into making sense. I grabbed a fry pan and quickly shut the door against the avalanche of cookware.

As much as I enjoyed spice, I needed a few more items. The cabinets were chaos.

I gave up and headed for the hallway he’d disappeared into. “Thor?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your spices?”

“What?”

“Where are your spices?”

“I can’t hear you—open the door.”

I paused at the doorknob. Showering was intimate business—hell, the whole bathroom deal was.

“Ruby, you’ve seen it all too, remember?”

I blew out a breath and opened the door. He was far too large for the bathroom that hadn’t seen an update since the 70s. His head lifted over the top of the shower curtain ring around the claw-footed tub.

I laughed at the soapy hair he’d piled on top of his head.

He opened one eye. “Can I help you?”

“Spices? Salt and pepper? Possibly other things.”

“Oh. Over the stove. Top cabinet.” He turned around and crouched so he could get under the spray.

That super clean soap scent filled the steamy room. Obviously, I didn’t have any resistance to this guy today. Or since we’d rescued the dog, to be honest.

I couldn’t help looking around. Evidently, nosy bitch was my new name tag today. Again, the space was freaking spotless. It was a hideous green tile, but the sink, commode, tub, and shelves were gleaming white.

He was such a weird mixed bag of puzzle pieces that didn’t seem to fit. But that didn’t mean I didn’t want to see how they lined up.

Even if I didn’t want to want to.

“Just gonna watch?”

“Sorry.” I’m trying to figure out your psyche while you shower? Yeah, that wasn’t going to go over well. “I was trying to figure out what that scent was. You usually smell like soap, but not like guy soap.”

Uh huh, that sounded way better. What was wrong with me?

He held up a blue bottle with a duck on it. “Good enough to get crude oil off a duck, good enough for me.”

I busted out laughing. A deep belly laugh that came from my toes. When was the last time I’d even been that amused? I really didn’t know. “Yep, that’s the one. You are so weird.”

He shook out his wet hair and whipped the curtain open. “You like it.”

I was aware my mouth had dropped open, but I couldn’t stop it. Under the cover of night, I’d gotten a good handle on things—at least I’d thought so. Nope. That was a whole lot of man. His skin was golden and darker tan through the shoulders and arms.

God, universe, the divine...they’d all been involved in granting some serious blessings to this man.

Lucky raked his hands through his hair to get out the water then grabbed the towel off the bar. He didn’t bother cinching it over his hips. Instead, he just swiped away water from his chest as Lucky Jr. increased in muscle mass. “Enjoying the view?”

I nodded. “Actually, I am.”

He ducked under the curtain frame then stepped out. I couldn’t stop laughing at gigantor crammed into such a small bathroom.

He gave me that eyebrow raise that did sinful things to my libido.

I backed up to the door and gripped the doorknob. “Okay, get dressed and I’ll make you that—” My brain went offline as he tied the towel around his waist in a way that only showcased his ridiculous cock. “Going.”

“Coward,” he yelled after me.

The insult didn’t start a fight this time. About this one point, I wasn’t in denial. I was very much a coward when it came to just how completely this man was wedging himself into my life.

And I wasn’t sure I hated it.

Contemplating my changing feelings was dangerous in ways I didn’t know how to handle just now. Eggs I could handle.

Ten minutes later, I did, in fact, find his spices, which were plentiful, and made a big batch of scrambled eggs. It took a few minutes, but I finally found a large plate that we could share since the man didn’t know what personal space was when it came to food, and I was tired of looking for dishes.

Two forks and two ice waters would have to do.

His dining room table was covered in papers, but the carpet was freshly vacuumed. A cute pink-striped dog bed sat on the floor under the TV along with a pile of toys, several bones that were bigger than Butch, and the freshly laundered Harry Styles towel.

Lucky ambled in with his hair blown dry. His curls shouldn’t be that perfect from using dish soap. It seemed as if only men could get away with that crap.

Though it was hardly fair, damn, did he clean up well.

He wore a pair of faded jeans, no socks, and a deep green Henley. He pushed up the sleeves as he walked toward me. “Smells awesome.”

I nodded at the table. “Find us a spot and maybe you’ll be able to eat some.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He stacked up the pile of magazines and swatches of fabric, stain, and paint samples. “I was pulling some stuff together for the barn actually.”

“When did you have time?”

He shrugged and tugged out a chair for me. “I don’t sleep much.”

“Really? It’s my favorite thing in all the world.” I set the plate down then pushed a fork over to the place he’d cleared for himself as well.

“In all the world?”

I sat down. “Pretty much.”

“We gotta fix that.” An involuntary shiver skated down my spine as he loomed over me. “Smells amazing,” he rumbled in my ear before sitting at my side.

The fact that he didn’t even question us sharing a plate probably said something deeper than I was prepared to dig into. Instead, I forked up some eggs.

He plowed through more than half of the eggs then pulled down the sketchbook from the pile. “I was thinking about the barn.”

“Handy since that’s your job.”

“You think that waspish tone is going to scare me off. It won’t.” He slid the notebook in front of me.

“I—” I huffed out a breath. “Sorry. I’m just used to doing all this alone.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to. Now look at what I want to do.”

I frowned down at the page. “Did you draw this?”

He lifted one shoulder. “Makes it easier for me to visualize. I’m learning a program on the iPad and I’ll mess with it a bit there to make sure the measurements are right. But this is a rough outline of what I think we should concentrate on. And what we can leave for future projects.”

“Future?”

“With less than six weeks to go, some things won’t even get here in time. A few things need to be special ordered. But I’ll make sure to have the foundations set—the bedrooms, furniture, wall treatments.”

My head swam. “Treatments?”

He tapped one wall on the drawing that looked different than the others. “I figure a feature wall in reclaimed wood. I was able to salvage a lot of it. I also have a buddy who has lumber from other barns built around the same time. I also figured some sliding barn doors like Doc Thorn had at the clinic. I think it would be a nice way to section off a bottom floor bedroom for Cohen. Then I’ll put three upstairs. Could also be a cool place for kids’ sleepovers or whatever in the future.”

“Kids?”

His gaze tracked to my mouth, then up to my eyes. “Sure. You don’t want kids?”

“I…” I’d never actually thought about it other than as something that might happen in the future. I cleared my throat. “I figured I’d be Aunt Tish more than Mom.”

He coasted a hand down my ponytail and tugged at the end. “A little girl with all this red hair? Seems like that’s something this world needs.”

A brief flash of a freckled girl zipped through my brain before I firmly pushed it back. “I really don’t have that mom gene. Didn’t really have one myself.”

“Makes two of us.” He reached down for my hand. “We don’t have to echo our pasts, Ruby.” His long, thick fingers tightened around mine. “That’s what we come from, not who we are.”

“You want kids?”

“I never thought about it until…”

I didn’t want him to finish that sentence. Before he could, I dropped his hand.

Hell, I didn’t even want to think about that kind of permanence with anyone, let alone someone who would rely on me for eighteen years at minimum.

I pushed my seat back and gathered the dishes. “I’m going to clean up. We can go over the plans, and then you can get your dog.”

He circled my wrist with his fingers, effectively stopping me from escaping. “Do you think running will make things between us less intense?”

I didn’t look down at him. I couldn’t, because I really wasn’t sure what the answer was. If I ignored things—men—long enough, they usually lost interest. There was always a willing woman looking for a good man. I wasn’t that woman.

I liked being on my own.

Dammit, I had a plan. And those green eyes and that long wild hair wasn’t in it.

Proving yet again I was the coward he’d called me, I fled.