His Brown-Eyed Girl

“That means put away that thing you’re tapping on.”

Grumbling, the boy slid the electronic device into his jacket pocket.

“I can watch Lottie.” Michael crossed his arms.

“Chris isn’t strong enough to unload this.”

Michael made a sound that might have been a muttered “whatever” but Lucas chose to ignore it, picking his battle once again.

A small car pulled into the driveway and Lucas glanced at his watch—1:20.

A little late, but that could be expected of a business owner. Things came up and had to be addressed before closing for the day. Besides he hadn’t been counting the minutes until Addy arrived.

Or at least that was what he told himself.

Lucas wasn’t accustomed to keeping shopkeeper’s hours. As a landscape photographer, he didn’t have steady hours. Though his art brought in plenty of money, he never allowed the business to overshadow the passion, so often he worked in spurts, obsessively working days on end then taking weeks off before beginning the artistic cycle again. Usually after working with no rest and little food, his body demanded the restoration. Then at some point he had to meet with Chavez about the running of the ranch. But he liked his world, liked being able to embrace his passion whenever the mood struck him.

Addy parked in the spot sitting kitty-corner from the back door, her posturing proving she’d forgotten they were to reconstruct the greenhouse that day.

How could she have forgotten?

He tried to deny he’d thought about her over the past few days. Heck, that morning while walking Kermit and scooping cat litter, he’d vowed the attraction he’d experienced nights before had been a figment of his imagination.

But he knew he lied to himself. Addy was a cool drink of water after walking a desert...otherwise known as Home Depot with three kids.

Maybe the kids were driving him bonkers, but he suspected the desire to see Addy was more than craving an adult’s company. If he had wanted that, he would have taken Shannon Something-or-other up on her coffee invitation after dropping Charlotte at St. George Day School yesterday morning. Of course, the married and bored Shannon had had more than caffeine on that agenda. Her expression had said, “Let’s have a playdate.”

But he didn’t want to have a playdate with Shannon or any other “single” mother in Charlotte’s preschool class. He wanted a workday with Addy.

“Hey,” Addy said, as she climbed from the cute little Volkswagen that somehow looked too cartoonish for such a serious woman. “I’d forgotten we said we’d work on repairs today.”

Disappointment gave him a little sock. He’d thought she was attracted to him several nights ago. Something had ignited between them...but maybe his lack of sleep from being kicked by Chris, who had climbed into bed with him that first night—probably forgetting his mother wasn’t there—had his mind playing tricks on him.

Addy’s shoulders were tight and something in her expression worried him. She looked so different from the way she’d looked before. Sure, she’d seemed guarded—a private woman with a side of mystery.

But today she looked spooked.

What could make a woman look so hunted?

* * *

ADDY PUSHED A few tendrils of hair from her eyes and studied the big man. She hadn’t actually forgotten Lucas. She had, however, temporarily forgotten about the greenhouse and repairs. Messages from Robbie Guidry tended to do that. Rattled her so that she forgot to stop for eggs or pay her water bill on time. When she got reminders from the man who had stalked her, attacked her and nearly killed her, it put her off balance for several days. So she’d canceled on Wednesday night and stayed inside. Even taking the letter by Lieutenant Andre’s office stirred anxiety and it took time for the reality that Robbie was behind bars and she had control of her life to permeate her brain.

But how much longer would he remain behind bars? She inhaled and exhaled, knowing she had no control over when Robbie Guidry would be released from prison.

Lucas approached her as if she were made of glass. She willed her thoughts to settle.

“You okay?”

“Of course, I am. Busy morning at the shop.” She hated lying but didn’t want to talk about her life. About how she’d been a victim. That was her past.

“No, I don’t think so. Something’s wrong.”

“Not really. Just have a lot on my mind.”

“What do you have on your mind?” His question wasn’t soft. He pried into her thoughts and she didn’t want him there.

“Nothing you need to worry about. Let me change and then we’ll get started.” Addy pulled her purse out of the car, pausing to slide the cell phone out of a side pocket. She’d texted her father to let him know she’d talked with Lieutenant Andre yesterday, but he hadn’t replied. But then again he didn’t check text messages often—they seemed beyond him. She didn’t want to call because then her mother would know something was up, and Addy hated when her mother worried. Maybe she would drive out to New Orleans East to corner her father and share what Andre had told her.

Addy’s father was her go-to man. When she’d first received an anonymous drawing of a single brown-eyed Susan, she’d reported it, but with no evidence the drawing came from Guidry, there was nothing to be done. Still, Don Toussant kept track of the evidence and haunted the parole hearings making sure Guidry didn’t get out until he paid his entire twenty-five-year sentence for assault with a deadly weapon, attempted rape and attempted murder. They were a team...a team who couldn’t do much but wait.

Addy dragged her gaze to Lucas, whose dark eyes weighed and measured her.

“Something’s off with you, Addy. You seem...scared. Did something happen—”

She pushed by him. “My life is none of your concern. I don’t like people shoving their nose in my business. I said I was okay, so leave it.”

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Defensive.”

She yanked her keys from her purse as she turned toward him. The anger pressed beneath the fear slipped out. “Maybe I am defensive, but I didn’t invite you to examine me. I didn’t even invite you to fix my greenhouse. You’re the one who insisted. I said I would help you with the kids because I’m trying to be a good neighbor to Ben and Courtney. That’s all I offered and there is no reason for you to think you can dig into my past, looking for a reason I don’t want to talk about my day with a stranger.”

Lucas didn’t say anything. Merely studied her more intently.

Something about the way he looked at her made her want to apologize. He’d tried to help and she’d been a bitch. Then again, guys trying to help, not taking no for an answer and buddying up to a woman who hadn’t opened the door either literally or figuratively—all were indicators of a man being potentially harmful. Even so, she knew in her bones, Lucas wasn’t harmful to her. At least not in that way.

“Look, I know you’re trying to be nice, but I’m good. Okay? I’ll change, we’ll fix the greenhouse and then we’ll talk about how I can help with the kids.”

Lucas nodded. “I didn’t mean to pry. Guess I thought I was being neighborly.”

“But you’re not my neighbor.”

Something flashed in his eyes and she knew she’d pissed him off a little with that one. “Good point.”

Then he walked away from her. Just like she wanted.

Chapter Five

ADDY’S WORDS HAD surprisingly hurt him. They shouldn’t have. He didn’t know her beyond a couple of hours spent together. But somehow meeting her defensiveness when he’d tried to be helpful, tried to nurture a stable relationship with the only rational nearby adult, made him feel less than what he was.

He was honorable, damn it. And no one had ever called him nosy.

Aunt Flora bumbled out the back door and gathered the children, directing Michael and Chris to unload pots out of Addy’s car and giving Charlotte a spoon for worm digging. The three-year-old made a strange face, but allowed the older woman to lead her to the compost pile in the corner of the yard.

For a moment, Lucas fought feeling inferior. What the hell was wrong with him anyway? He was a man who rarely cared what others thought of him, a man who rarely cared if he pleased others.

But he knew one thing—Addy’s past had made her fearful.

The phone attached to his belt rang, and Lucas glanced at the screen. He was waiting on his manager at the Manhattan gallery to call about some pieces for a renovation. But it wasn’t Gerald. It was Courtney.