Page 22 of Bought (BOUGHT TRILOGY #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Lucian

Driving my favorite convertible with the top down, engine humming beneath me, Erin beside me, it feels damn close to happiness.

That elusive word I’ve never trusted. But maybe, just maybe, I’m brushing against the edges of it now, with her laughter on the breeze, her dark hair whipping across her cheeks, the adorable oversized sunglasses resting on that exquisite face.

The sunglasses I bought, like the deep green dress with a delicate floral pattern she wears, the gold necklace that gleams against her skin, the matching gold hoops, the leather boots with heels that make her legs look like sin.

Every inch of her right now is dressed in what I picked. And that shouldn’t turn me on the way it does, but fuck, it does. I love control, and I love that she wants me in charge.

Shopping with her was fun.

A simple word. One I’ve never truly used with sincerity before. But watching her light up, hesitantly picking clothes off racks, asking me to choose, it affected me. So much so that brunch this morning turned into a detour back to Posh, where I told her to pick anything she wanted.

Everything.

I grabbed the boots.

If she hadn’t been untouched before me, I would’ve hated the idea of other hands touching her, other arms holding her, other eyes watching her—gifts from other men. I would’ve destroyed every piece of fabric any other man had ever touched.

I’m the first, but more than that, I want to be the last.

The only.

And that thought unsettles me.

She turns to me, trying to hold her hair down against the wind. “Ryan’s going to try to talk me into two scoops, but he’s only three and still has to eat dinner.”

That soft, maternal edge in her voice kills me. It’s so far from the world I come from.

“I don’t know shit about kids,” I say, watching her mouth curl into a smirk. “I’ll leave the negotiations to you.”

“Cass is the weak one,” she says with a teasing lilt. “I don’t have a problem enforcing bedtime or sugar limits. But Ryan can be persuasive.”

I smirk. “Little man got the Cabriolet out of the garage. That kid’s not just persuasive—he’s got the instincts of a shark. I stroke the dash with affection. “This baby is the most coveted of the vintage Ferraris.”

She glances into the back seat. “Will he even appreciate it? He’s three.”

“He’s got a Y chromosome. It’s in his blood.”

She laughs, lifting her sunglasses to perch atop her head. “My hair is going to have serious volume for dinner tonight.”

“And you’ll be the most beautiful woman in the room.” My hand slides over her thigh, fingers possessive. “After last night,” and after this morning, twice, “it’s going to be impossible to keep my hands off you.”

She catches my hand, lacing her fingers through mine. “I want to make a good impression.”

“You will,” I say, squeezing her hand. “Just by walking in the door.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then she looks at me again, lips parted. “How are we going to say we met?”

I shrug, though I feel the weight of her question. “Will anyone ask?”

“They might,” she says slowly. “Depending on how you introduce me.”

She’s right. The Bachmans are nosy. Obsessed with new love stories. They’ll ask when we met and how we met. What this is.

What she is.

I grip her hand tighter, the risk crawling beneath my skin. “I’ll introduce you as my girlfriend.”

She hesitates. “That seems fast.” But her smile says otherwise.

We both know this is reckless. Too soon. Too much.

We also know what it felt like to come together. To fall into each other’s arms. Her taste, her breath, the sultry rasp of that voice.

She’s carved her way in, and I’ll leave her there to stay.

“This is getting complicated,” she muses, looking down at her lap. She goes quiet, thinking. Finally, she’s back. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t even know why you invited us all to dinner anyway.”

It just felt right at the time. I’d shown up unannounced, and there they were, all of them at the door of the apartment.

“I don’t either,” I say. “Honestly.” My words don’t seem to comfort her already sky-rocketing nerves.

Am I making a mistake?

In my family, it’s enough for a man to walk into the room with a woman at his side. They know she’s his. “We’ll drop the girlfriend bit.”

“Good call.” She sighs with relief. “Cass would kill me.”

Would Cass be upset she’s dating, dating the man who tried to buy her virginity, or does she not want her dating…

Me?

Her words slice through the heat of my thoughts. “Hey! Stop here. Please.”

I ease into a curbside space without asking why.

“If we’re really doing this crazy thing,” she turns to me with a smile, sliding the sunglasses to the top of her head. “I want to run in and grab flowers. For your family. For tonight. For hosting.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I do,” she says with a sweet stubbornness I’m starting to crave.

“I’ll come,” I offer.

“No,” she says. “If you come, you’ll pay. And then they won’t really be from me.”

I nod, but something in my chest tugs as she gets out. It’s just across the sidewalk, but I don’t like letting her out of my reach. Not even for a second.

She disappears inside. I put the top up to save her hair while I wait.

He’s moving too fast for a sunny afternoon as he darts into the store behind Erin. He doesn’t look back, but his body betrays him with every muscle tense. The man is wired tight for a reason.

He dips into the store.

Do not run in there like a crazy boyfriend, I warn myself.

Followed by reminding myself that I’m not her boyfriend.

I sit, parked at the curb. Top up. Waiting and thinking and imagining all the terrible things that man could be doing in that store right now.

I worry about her.

I try to reassure myself. He’s just a guy. Grabbing a head of lettuce. Burger buns. A cold six-pack.

Diapers?

The more I try to convince myself that he’s not dangerous, that she’s perfectly safe, and that the worst thing I can do is scare her off by running in there after her on a hunch…

I cut the engine, running into the store, searching for her.

There she is, bent over a display of flowers, her dark hair a curtain at either side of her face. I can breathe again. She’s safe.

“Erin.”

She startles, then exhales when she recognizes me. “You scared me,” she whispers.

I glance right to left. An older woman with white hair and a green cardigan is choosing peppers.

To her right, a younger one in athleisure wear, her hair in a ponytail, grabs a green juice from the refrigerated section.

Behind her, a kid about 16 is looking at the bouquet she holds in her hands, comparing it to the choices in the black tubs in front of him.

The man I’m looking for is nowhere to be seen.

“Lucian?” She gently touches my shoulder, bringing me back to her. “What’s wrong?”

I run my hand over the back of my neck. “Nothing.” I shake my head. “I thought I saw someone I know. That’s all. It’s nothing.”

These feelings I’m having for her have elevated all my senses, keeping me on edge and constantly worried about her. Is she warm? Happy? And most importantly, Safe.

She stands before me, shaken, the color draining from her face, clutching the flowers in her arms too tightly. Either she startles incredibly easily for the iron-clad girl she is, or something else is going on.

“Come here.” I reach out to comfort her. “Come here. I’m sorry I scared you.”

I hold her so close against my chest that it feels as if our heartbeats meet.

She hides her face, burying it against the soft fabric of my shirt, her grateful sigh warming me.

I stroke her hair, an interrogation hovering on the tip of my tongue.

There’s more going on here than she’s willing to reveal.

The panic in her and Cass when Ryan was at the door. The way she jumped when I showed up.

The fact that she was so desperate for cash, she was willing to sell a piece of herself.

One she could never get back.

She’s brave. Dedicated to her family. Being with me isn’t putting her in danger. She’s already there. Cass and Ryan as well. All of them are in trouble. I don’t know where the threat originates or how deeply it runs.

You can be damn sure I’m going to find out.

“Let’s go. We’re gonna catch hell if we keep little man waiting much longer.”

She shoots me a grateful smile, taking my hand. I pull the black Amex out at the register, and she smacks my hand away.

“I’m the only one who does the swatting in this relationship.”

Her cheeks burn, but I let her pay. I understand how important it is to her, and I respect that.

She does let me open the door for her as we leave. Hand in hand, we stroll back to the Cabriolet. Though the threat has passed, my eyes still scan the parking lot for that man.

A woman catches my attention. Dark hair. Similar build. I walk faster, craning my neck to get a better look. My heart is in my throat as I will the woman to turn towards me.

I need to see her face.

“Lucian?” Erin’s voice pulls me from my delusions. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Sorry. The sun got in my eyes.” I squeeze her hand. When I glance back over, the woman is gone.

What’s gotten into me? Was it telling Erin about Isobel and dredging up her memory that has my mind playing tricks on me? Or Erin’s observation about the remains of the fire?

Erin squeezes my hand, staring up at me with the most beautiful, trusting smile.

I smile back.

I have to move forward. I can’t let Isobel haunt my days as well as my nights.

She’s gone. And I need to move on.

“Here we are.” Learning quickly, she waits, flowers in hand, for me to open the passenger door for her. I reach over her, buckling her safely in. I leave her with a kiss before I close her door.

I won’t walk away.

I will find out what dangers she is facing.

Even if I am burned alive a second time to do so.