Page 9 of Sweet Temptation (Love & Legacy #1)

LEXIE

She’s not looking for a knight in shining armor. Who needs a savior when you could have a man who would burn cities to the ground for you? Now tell me, which is sexier?

—Lexie’s Secret Thoughts

“ Y ou didn’t have to drive me home,” I growl at Lucky as he shuts the door behind me and rounds the front of the car.

The big, dumb, sexy jerk gets in the driver’s side and looks at me like I’ve got two heads. “You’ve been drinking, and you drove. How the hell else were you planning on getting home? Lincoln? He left hours ago with Brea.”

“I—” Lucky reaches across my chest and grabs the seat belt, then buckles the damn thing, all sorts of smug before he buckles his own. “I could have done that,” I mutter.

“Yeah. Just like you could have driven home. Since when do you drink, Lex?”

Why does it grate on my nerves that he knows I don’t drink?

“I drink when I want, and I wanted to tonight.” Great. I sound like a spoiled brat.

“You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

He’s not wrong.

Not that I’m telling him that.

“Lexie . . .”

Stupid sexy voice.

“I only had two beers,” I pout and cross my legs as he pulls out of the parking lot.

Okay, and maybe I smile a little too because stupid sexy voice and stupid sexy body aside, his beautiful eyes catch on my thigh and linger a little too long, and not even a few beers can dull the sense of satisfaction I get from that one look.

“Two beers and two shots, Lex. I wasn’t letting you drive home.”

“You never used to be this bossy. You used to help me have fun when my brothers were being the overbearing assholes.” I sigh and close my eyes, listening to the sound of the rain against the car for the short drive back to the house.

“Yeah, well that was a long time ago,” he grumbles. “Who was the poser?”

“What?” I open my eyes and turn my face to his as he turns onto our street. “What poser?”

“The guy, Lex. The one who looked like he wanted to be part of the team but definitely wasn’t.” Lucky’s jaw clenches as he glances at me. “Fuck, Lex. Grab my sweatshirt from behind you. Your dress is soaked.”

“What the hell, Lucky. Why do you care if I’m wet?” I don’t bother to thank him or tell him I was cold, but I do find his hoodie and slip it on. It’s big and warm and smells like Lucky. Like summer and sunsets and days spent at the beach. It smells incredible.

He mumbles something as he pulls into our driveway and shuts off the car. Every muscle in his body is rigid when he turns to me, anger burning in his eyes. “Why don’t you care? Do you want to get sick?”

“What the hell, Lucky? You’re not my father, and you’re not my brother. It’s not your job to worry about me getting sick.” Lightning cracks overhead as I reach for the door handle.

“Don’t,” he growls.

“Don’t what?” I somehow manage not to yell back at him but only barely.

The ass hits the door lock and gets in my face, that same muscle in his jaw twitching again. “Don’t compare me to Cooper or your brothers. I’m not them. And don’t get out of the car until I come around with a fucking umbrella so you don’t get drenched.”

“Do you even have an umbrella in here?” I blurt out, completely skipping over the thing about Dad and the boys.

“No. Fuck. You drive me fucking nuts,” he groans as he turns to look in the backseat, like an umbrella is going to magically appear. Who knows? Maybe Lucky turned into a Boy Scout while I was gone. Doubtful, but stranger things have happened.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” he bitches as I giggle, and for some reason, that makes me laugh harder.

“I just pictured you in a Boy Scout uniform.” I bite my lips, trying to hold back anything else I might say... or do.

“Fuck no.” He drops his pissed-off attitude for a minute and laughs with me. “They’d kick me out when they saw what I could do with a knife.”

“I mean, I bet you’d look hot rocking a bandana.”

Lucky leans back against the leather seat and smiles.

God, I love his smile.

Another crack of lightning lights up the sky, and I smile. “Isn’t it pretty? I could watch a storm for hours.”

“Yeah, Lex...” His voice softens. There’s a hint of something there. Something I’m not sure I want to see, so I keep my eyes on the sky. “It’s beautiful.”

“Think we can make a run for it?” I ask without turning around, my hand on the handle and my eyes on the sky. “I feel like an omelet.”

“You spent a year in culinary school. You ever gonna make anything besides eggs?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’ll make him whatever he wants.

But I don’t.

Not tonight.

Probably not ever.

Because that’s not Lucky and me.

“Come on, Beneventi. You need more protein to feed those massive muscles of yours.” I unlock the door and crack it open.

“Lex—”

“Come on, Lucky. Let’s run for it.” I don’t wait for his answer, yet somehow, he’s out of the car before me, and I’m in his arms as he rushes to the front door faster than I ever could have.

I fist his shirt as he unlocks the door, completely taken off guard.

And a little awed by how quickly this man swept me off my feet and ran me to the door.

Maybe... if I’m being honest, a little turned on too, but I’m going to keep that little nugget to myself.

Lucky looks at me like he’s not sure what he’s looking at. “You’re fucking crazy, Lexie.”

“You’ve called me worse,” I remind him as he opens the door, and the tension grows.

More tension than the two of us have ever had between us.

And whether we admit it or not, there’s always been tension there.

I push until he sets me on my feet. “Now, since you were such a knight in shining armor tonight, I’ll make you something better than eggs. ”

I don’t wait for his answer before I walk away, but that doesn’t stop Lucky.

“I’m more villain than knight, Lex.”

That’s what I’m afraid of . . .

Lucky leaves me alone while I take stock of what’s in the fridge and decide what I feel like making him. It’s not something I ever eat, but it’s something I know for a fact he loves, and I just made a loaf of fresh bread yesterday... Winning .

I move around the kitchen with ease as I put together our plates and slide my omelet on the plate as Lucky walks back into the kitchen in those pajama pants I’m coming to love and an old, worn Kroydon Prep T-shirt that’s probably a decade old.

He looks good.

A little too good.

Okay well, that’s just not fair.

I slide his plate his way and look for my purse.

“You made me grilled cheese?” His voice shakes a little, and I stop and stare. “That’s my favorite.”

“I know.” I pop a pill and chase it with a glass of water before picking up a fork and standing across the island from him.

“What are the pills for?” he asks a little too seriously for this late at night.

“Enzymes. I take them with every meal. I’m just usually a little more discreet.” Lucky watches me for a minute, then takes another bite, and I think if my panties weren’t already damp, they’d be soaked now just from listening to this man moan. “How is it?”

He takes another bite, and this time, he’s watching me while he does it. “Fucking good.”

“I swear you’d be mute if you couldn’t use the f-word,” I joke before breaking off a piece of my omelet.

“Why eggs, Lex? Why not grilled cheese?”

“I need the protein, and I don’t need the dairy. I don’t handle dairy well.” I look down at my plate like it holds the answers to the wonders of the world because it’s easier than looking at him. “Eggs are an easy option.” And just to hit it home, a cough builds in my chest that I try to push down.

Lucky stops, his sandwich midway to his mouth. “You okay?”

I nod and take another bite. “Thanks for driving me home tonight.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” This time, Lucky is the one not looking at me. “Just take care of yourself.”

His words aren’t meant to be mean, but that doesn’t soften the blow.

“I’ve done a pretty good job taking care of myself up till this point. I don’t need another brother looking after me.” I turn away and put my eggs and the pans in the sink. Screw it. I’ll deal with the dishes in the morning. “Goodnight, Lucky.”

I’m halfway to the stairs when I swear I hear Lucky, but I pretend I don’t because it’s easier not to.

I pretend the whole way up the stairs. I pretend as I step out of my clothes and carefully lay his sweatshirt on my favorite chair in the corner of the room.

And I pretend the entire time I’m trying to force my body to relax enough to sleep while those same words I’m pretending don’t exist play on repeat in my mind, like a playlist set to loop.

“I’ve never looked at you like a sister, Lex.”

Lucky

Dad

Meet me at The Busy Bee for breakfast.

Lucky

What if I wasn’t awake?

Dad

You are. Be there at nine.

Lucky

What if I had practice?

Dad

It’s the day after a game on Labor Day weekend, and I play poker with the coach. You don’t have practice. Shower and meet me for breakfast. See you in an hour.

I should have ignored the fucking message, but my father isn’t a man used to being ignored. He’s not a man who allows you to ignore him either.

Fuck me. I might not have played last night, but I was fucking tired enough to feel like I had. But that didn’t stop me from getting up and getting my ass to the Bee.

Whether I wanted to or not.

I bypass the hostess and walk to the back corner of the diner, where I know he’s inevitably sitting.

Out of the way.

Private. Or as private as you’re getting in Kroydon Hills.

Two things he’s always looking for. “Hey, Pop.”

“I ordered you coffee.” He motions to the full mug in front of me as I sit.

“Thanks.” I wait for a minute before giving in. “Wanna tell me why I’ve been summoned?”

The waitress comes over, pen and pad in hand. She’s worked here for years. More years than I’ve been alive. “What am I getting ya, honey?”

Dad cracks a smile. “I already ordered. You’re honey.”

Fucker.

I look at the menu for a second before deciding I don’t want eggs if they’re not Lexie’s. “Can I get blueberry pancakes and sausage?”