His Brown-Eyed Girl

“Let him go.”

The man shrugged off her touch. “He’s being—”

“Lucas Whatever Your Name Is, I think you need to tell me what’s really going on.”

Chapter Two

LUCAS FINLAY LOOKED at the small woman staring expectantly at him with eyes the color of aged wheat—not quite golden but not wholly brown—and stilled himself.

What was really going on?

How about total incompetency in dealing with kids?

Or helplessness?

Or guilt?

Or all of the above?

All those would likely cover the past forty-eight hours spent in the company of three kids he knew nothing about, a house that creaked and moaned and had weak pipes, and pets that needed constant feeding and walking. He’d encountered more poop in the past two days than in his entire lifetime...and he raised cattle on his ranch.

Not to mention, Michael had been correct.

Not about eating small children. Lucas might be tall, but he’d given up devouring tiny tots long ago...when he’d sold the golden-egg-laying goose. But the boy had been right about him hating his brother and sister-in-law. Unequivocally correct.

“It’s a long story.”

Addy hooked a dramatic eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“I need to go.”

“Where are Ben and Courtney?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Was it any of her business? She was a neighbor. Neighbors carried tales and Lucas wasn’t sure what Courtney wanted to reveal about Ben’s injuries...about the fact Lucas’s younger brother lay in a hospital bed miles away, knocking on death’s door. “They’re in Virginia.”

Not a lie. Walter Reed Army Hospital was in Virginia.

“Ben’s deployed to Afghanistan. Was he injured?”

Lucas didn’t move a muscle. “I can’t give out information without their permission.”

“What about your parents? Why aren’t they here instead of you?”

“Mom and Dad are in Europe, trying to get back so they can meet Courtney in Virginia. There was no one else to stay with the kids on such short notice.”

The woman didn’t say anything. Just studied him, which made him uncomfortable. This is what he didn’t like about being back in New Orleans. People lurked around every corner and there were so many things in his way—trees, bushes, grass, lushness. Yes, everything was so damn plush and suffocating.

Not like West Texas where a man could breathe. Where a man could stretch out and see for days what came toward him. There were no corners...and very few people. And those very few people left him the hell alone. Just as he wished.

Here in New Orleans, he drowned in all the stuff surrounding him.

Mostly in dog piss because Kermit the golden retriever had bladder issues. The vet was on the list for tomorrow, but if he had to go to Home Depot...

She cleared her throat.

He glanced at her again. She hadn’t warmed up to him, but most people didn’t. There was something hard in his demeanor, something off-putting that sent people away from him rather than toward him. Probably his size. He stretched six foot four inches and filled up most doorways with his breadth. He wasn’t fat, but neither was he slim. Solid. Thick. And unlikely to smile. Charm was his antonym.

But he liked the look of her. Petite but not mousy. Brown hair that caught in the waning sunlight. Pleasant heart-shaped face. Very natural—no caked-on makeup or weirdly patterned shirts with spiky high heels. Just simplicity. Yeah, this woman looked simple. His fingers itched to photograph her. He’d use the new Nikon and catch the natural light falling soft against her golden skin.

Then he remembered where he was.

“Look, I don’t feel comfortable talking about the situation. Courtney hasn’t told the kids what issues she and Ben are facing.” Damn. Even that was too much to say. He could tell Addy knew the situation wasn’t good, but he couldn’t take back his words. Yet, somehow he knew this woman wouldn’t spread them around.

She nodded, mink hair falling over slim shoulders. He wondered what she’d do if he reached over and felt it between his thumb and finger. Scream?

Then he remembered the pepper spray on her key ring and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Okay, I’m smart enough to realize it’s something bad otherwise you wouldn’t be here. I’ve never seen you before so that means you’re not close to your brother. The children seem scared of you, likely perpetuated by Michael who is locked in a power struggle with you. So I’d say—”

“You a counselor?”

She smiled and her face transformed into beauty. Not an overblown, sexy beauty, but the kind a person observes as a swan glides over the water on a still morn, the kind reflected in a pool sitting taciturn beneath a towering mountain pass. Serene beauty. Peaceful beauty. “I’m a floral designer.”

His expression must have betrayed the question.

“Fine. It’s a fancy way of saying I’m a florist.”

At this he gave a rare smile. “So you arrange things. Pull apart, reassemble and create something that makes sense...just as you’re doing now?”

She made a face. “I don’t think anyone has ever put it in such a way, but I suppose that’s accurate.”

A scream erupted from the house. Chris or Charlotte? He couldn’t tell.

“That’s my cue. Need to go, but I’ll send over whichever child’s not bleeding for your list.” His strides ate up the distance between her drive and the gap in the bushes. For some odd reason he didn’t want to leave her just yet.

Or maybe he merely tried to avoid the slap of reality awaiting him. He’d learned kids were fantastic at delivering those particular slaps.

Before he disappeared, Lucas turned and held up his hand. “Good to meet you and sorry about—”

Another scream.

Addy jerked her gaze to the blue house. “Go.”

So he did.

Of course when he saw what awaited him when he stepped through the front door, he wished he’d stayed awhile longer basking in the serenity that was his brother’s next-door neighbor.

Charlotte stood in the living room screeching like a parrot, pointing at a huge puddle of something.