Force of Attraction (38 page)

Cathy continued peeling potatoes for boiling. “He was a beautiful child. Smart and curious about the world. There was a fire in his eyes practically from the day he was born. He loved adventure. ‘No' was a dare to him. Scared me to pieces.”

She smiled at some memory. “He crawled out over the top of his crib before he could walk and never stopped moving. He was strong, so much energy. By three years old he'd tackle older boys on the playground just for an excuse to wrestle. He was physically fearless.” Mrs. Lucca shook her head again as more memories spooled out behind her thoughts. “I told his father we'd need to channel that lust for a thrill, or he'd get into trouble we couldn't handle.”

“Scott never mentioned Gabe being in trouble.”

Cathy set her paring knife down to give Cole her full attention. “That's because we shielded Scott from most of his older brother's antics. Scott thought the sun rose and set on Gabe. And Gabe loved Scott, and his adoration. Scott was probably the only person Gabe never tested growing up. But Gabe was driven, loved the thrill of testing his limits. When he couldn't find a challenge, he went looking for it. Finally, we couldn't keep him from getting into trouble.”

Cole licked her lips, wondering if she was pushing too hard, but she had to know, for Scott's sake. “What kind of trouble?

Cathy looked away from Cole and returned to peeling. “There were a few minor things at first, stealing a beer from the fridge, smoking with some friends in the boys' restroom at school. Most of it was typical kid stuff but the summer he was fifteen he was arrested for boosting a car.”

“He stole a car?” Cole couldn't control her surprise.

She sighed. “Gabe said he didn't know the car was stolen. That he just went joyriding with friends. The police let them go with a warning to the parents. But, a few days later, two of Gabe's so-called friends robbed the house of the man whose car had been stolen. It seems they had found the owner's house keys in the glove compartment when they stole the car. The police came and arrested all the boys involved in the car theft with breaking and entering and burglary, as well as grand theft auto.”

“Why didn't I know any of this?”

Both women looked up guiltily to find Scott standing in the doorway to the family room.

His mother's cheeks pinked. “Scott, how long have you been standing there?”

He leaned a shoulder against the jamb. “Keep talking, Mom.”

She straightened up, putting on her family-court judge face. “You should understand your father and I were trying to protect Gabe, and you. You were just ten years old.”

Scott was silent.

Cole looked from mother to son, wanting to break the stalemate. “What happened. Gabe didn't go to jail?”

“No.” John Lucca had appeared in the doorway opposite, coming in from the living room side of the kitchen. “Let me tell him, Cathy.” He looked at Scott. “The D.A. was one of those hotshots, trying to make a name for himself by being hard on crime. He wanted to try the boys as adults. But your mother had clout because of her position on the court bench. Gabe's lawyer worked a deal for Gabe by promising the judge that if she gave him probation, we'd send him to a military academy for his four years of high school.”

Cathy Lucca nodded. “It broke my heart to send Gabe away. But we were afraid for him. So we made the sacrifice to send him away.”

John came over to put his arm around his wife's shoulders but he spoke to Scott. “Your mother and I were trying to preserve Gabe's future, give him something to aim for.”

Scott's face was stiff with emotions held in check as he looked at his father. “You should have told me.
Gabe
should have told me.”

“I think he was ashamed. He didn't want to spoil your view of him as big brother.”

Scott snorted. “So, instead, you rode me so hard. Made me believe I was less than because I wasn't like Gabe.”

“I hoped to hell you wouldn't be like Gabe.” His father's voice carried in the kitchen. “Son, I watched you day after day growing up, trying to be like your brother. Coming home bloodied after some school-yard fight where you'd tried some moves Gabe had taught you, so sad you couldn't even cry. It scared your mother and me to see you trying to imitate him. Gabe seemed to have been born with nine lives. Not like the rest of us. You were—”

“Weak?” Scott's expression was one of challenge.

His father sighed. “No, normal. Maybe we were too harsh. We didn't mean it like that. We just wanted different things for you.”

“I'm different.”

A corner of his father's mouth lifted. “And I'm grateful.” He hugged his wife closer. “Gabe was great at a lot of things. He found his destiny in a love of country and duty. That became his reason for living. It served him better than we could ever have hoped.

“But we were always afraid he would go too far. I could see it in his eyes. He'd risk too much. Do more than anyone could reasonably expect. Eventually something got the best of him.”

For several moments the only sound in the kitchen was the ticking of the clock on the wall as the sadness of the loss of a much-loved son and brother moved like a living thing among them.

Finally Cole moved to stand beside Scott but she didn't touch him. “I know I'm not part of this family. But, Mr. Lucca, you talk only about Gabe. What did you want for Scott?”

Her question seemed to surprise him. “Scott knows.”

Scott gave his head a quick tight shake as grief and anger seemed to war within him. “I don't know. You never bothered to tell me.”

The two men looked at each other across the width of a kitchen and a lifetime of misunderstanding. Cole held her breath, realizing she might just have asked the question that would tear them apart forever.

John seemed to tremble and then he spoke. “I wanted you to be the son I could do normal things with. Fish, talk sports and politics.” He paused to draw in a long breath, as if every word was costing him. “We wanted you to marry, be a family man. One who'd give us grandchildren.” His gaze flicked toward Cole but didn't stay. “I wanted you to be the kind of man who shoulders responsibility and doesn't walk away when the demands get rough.”

Scott stared at his father a long time. “You could have just told me.”

“We did.” His mother came up to him and put her hand on Scott's cheek. “Over and over, we told you, you're not your brother. You needed to live your own life. Find your own way.”

Scott glanced over her head at his father. “I thought that was your way of telling me I wasn't good enough. That I could never match up to Gabe so I should stop embarrassing myself, and you, with my failures.”

John's mouth twisted, as if in pain. “Maybe I did a crappy job. Your mother says I preach instead of teach.” He lifted his head and squared his shoulders, as if daring anyone to contradict him. “I could have done better. I see how you avoid us these days. You've moved on in your life, without us. But I did what I thought was right at the time.”

Something flickered in Scott's face. “And now?”

His father scowled at him. “Fine. Have your pound of flesh. I was wrong.”

“An apology?” A corner of Scott's mouth sketched up as he reached to check his pulse. “No, still ticking. Thought I'd died and gone to heaven.”

His father's scowl deepened but his eyes brightened. “Don't get cocky with me, son.”

And then he and Scott were moving toward each other.

Cole's heart contracted with emotion as she turned quickly and walked away, leaving the Luccas with their privacy.

Maybe she had made things better. At least the truth was out, and it was a truth Scott had needed to know for more than half his life.

*   *   *

Two hours later, wandering past picnic tables filled with enough food for three times the twenty guests at the barbecue, Cole thought she found the answer.

Scott and his dad were arguing, and laughing, about the best way to marinate chicken for the barbecue.

It was at this moment she realized that in all their time together she had seldom heard Scott laugh. Oh, he could be silly and found things funny. But there was most often a bit held back, even in his laughter. It was as if he thought he didn't deserve full-on soul-shaking happiness.

Too bad. Because she was about to deliver it in daily doses from now on.

She waited until he passed her, then snagged his arm and drew him inside and up the stairs to the bedrooms on the second floor. Once there, she realized yet another surprise. She had never spent a night under this roof.

“Which room is yours?”

Scott pointed to the last door on the left.

Cole moved toward it, pulling him by the hand. When they were both through the entry, she shut the door and looked around.

It was a teenage boys' room. And, amazingly, it hadn't been touched during the vandalism. It was like a time capsule of the Lucca boys. She could almost smell the long absent locker-room dirty-sock ambiance. It was full of evidence of growing-boy stuff, from
Star Wars
to
The Sopranos
. An
Independence Day
poster hung beside one for
Tomb Raider
and another for
Call of Duty
. A PlayStation sat on the desk between twin beds. Cole moved over and tapped the poster of Lara Croft. “Impressive rack.”

Scott grinned at her. “I was more in lust with her hardware.”

After a perusal of a room that time forgot she wandered back to the door and punched the lock. She turned and leaned her back against it.

Scott shook his head. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you can't get away.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because we are going to have wild monkey sex in your old bedroom right now while your parents are entertaining downstairs.”

The look on his face was comical. “Ah, Cole, that's probably not a good—”

“That's the point. Live on the edge. Feel fully alive.”

He smirked. “Come over here and I'll let you feel how fully alive I'm getting.”

Cole shook her finger at him. “Not just yet. Show me what you got.”

He ducked in his chin. “Listen, Cole—”

“Take it off, Agent Lucca. Take it all off.”

A slow grin pushed those sexy dimples into his cheeks as he reached for his T-shirt and pulled it over his head.

Cole sighed in appreciation of the view of all that smooth and ripped muscle. Abs for fingers to climb. Delts worth licking. And obliques to grip as she slid down his body. Nothing was really flat. His torso rippled and tucked and bulged just enough in all the right places. Yet he was no caricature of male beauty. He was real. Hair on his chest, a few scars that suddenly made her feel better about her new imperfection. He was not perfect, and all hers.

When her gaze met his again she felt her whole body become aroused.

“Keep going.” Where had her breath gone?

Those damn dimples deepened. “Anybody ever tell you you're a nasty girl?”

“You're a bad influence.”

“God, I hope so.” He shucked off his boots and reached for his zipper. Camo pants hit the floor along with his briefs in quick shucking movements.

Cole smiled. Oh yes. They were going to have fun in the narrow confines of his bed. “Looks like you're happy to see me.”

He made a little pumping action with his hips that surprised and delighted her, his erection dancing happily along. “Come and get it.”

She watched him with a rapt fascination he'd never seen on any woman's face but hers. For him. All for him.

He sighed despite his assurance of what she had in mind, when she reached for her top. As she undressed before him he didn't see the thin lines of fading red or the bruises or anything but the lovely wonderful body of the woman he loved more than life.

When she reached for him, hand closing over his ready-to-go erection, he pulled her in and kissed her with everything he had to give.

And then he slid a hand between her legs and felt the glistening proof of her readiness for him.

He pulled her down on the bed beside him and kissed her until she was shivering. Then he lay back in what had once been a lonely boy's bed and pulled her astride.

He watched her face as she raised herself up and then slid her body down over his. He watched her mouth open in pleasure at the filling that almost stopped his heart.

When she began moving on him, he thought he might not last. But then she looked down at him, a hard little frown on her lovely face.

“Don't you dare. I've waited weeks.”

He grinned back, grabbed her by the waist and gave her the ride of her life.

He filled his mouth with her breast and his mind with her cries of pleasure and let the world as he had known it slide off and drift away.

*   *   *

The sound of a woman's footsteps in the hallway, along with thumps and scampering that could only be Izzy and Hugo, startled them. Scott looked at Cole, tucked in the curve of his arm, and whispered in alarm, “Mom.”

A knock sounded on the door. “No hurry in there. Just wanted to let you kids know the dogs are hungry. Oh, and dinner's ready when you are.”

As the sound of Cathy's footsteps retreated back down the hall, Cole scrambled from the bed to unlock and open the door.

Ninety-five pounds of shaggy black Bouvier and sixty-four pounds of silky-smooth dark chocolate Lab bounded through the door and ran full-tilt toward Scott, who still lay in bed. They pounced on him together, barking in excitement as if let in on some game.

Smothering giggles with her hand, Cole approached the bed and looked down at Scott. “Are we ready?”

Scott sat up and reached for her, cupping her sweet naked ass in his palms. “For anything.”

 

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D.D. AYRES
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