Wilde For You (The Wilde Sisters Book 3) (15 page)

And Luke’s as well.

Chapter Thirteen

Luke

“What crawled up your butt?”

“Not now, Luce.”

“Geesh. Somebody needs to get laid.” Lucy grabbed another handful of pretzels and crunched down loudly.

“Seriously. If you’re going to be a pain in the ass, go do it somewhere else.” Luke pulled his head out of the fridge and inspected the glass shelving. If his head had been screwed on tight he wouldn’t have put his full coffee mug in the fridge this morning. And he wouldn’t have knocked it over while searching for a beer. It took him twenty minutes to empty out the fridge and get rid of the overwhelming smell of hazelnut. He’d asked Lucy to help clean off the food, but she decided to help herself to the dry stuff and watch him suffer.

“Seriously, getting laid will keep you from doing stupid-ass stuff like forgetting where you set your coffee down, and it will help with your sour-ass mood as well.”

“Thanks for the tip. Now don’t you have somewhere to go?” He should have felt guilty for snapping at his sister, but he was in no mood to deal with her. All he wanted after working fifteen straight hours was to come home, take a shower, sit back, and watch the Patriots game while sipping a beer. Instead he’d missed an epic touchdown pass and spent all of third quarter with his head in his coffee-smelling fridge.

“Actually, I don’t. Mom has her knitting ladies over and Rachael is playing Miss Merry Hostess. So not my thing. I figured I’d watch the game with my favorite brother.”

“Then go watch it.” He didn’t expect to see the flash of hurt on Lucy’s face. She quickly brushed it off and brought back the attitude.

“You’re much more entertaining. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a pissy mood. Let me guess, it’s Miss Prissy Pants, huh?”

“I’m in a pissy mood because I just went to the store yesterday and now all of my food smells like coffee, and I’ve missed half the Pats game.”

“Why didn’t you DVR the game? Can’t you pause it?”

Luke glared at his sister.
Shit.
He really did need to get his head on tight. Lucy glared back and then barked out an obnoxious laugh.

“Well, holy fu—”

“Mouth.”

“Fudge. Your ass is so whipped. I never thought I’d see the day. What did Miss Perfect do to get your panties in a bunch?”

“Drop it, Lucy. Seriously.” He turned away and started rinsing off his coffee-soaked produce. He heard the barstool scrape on the wooden floor and felt Lucy’s slap on his back.

“Dude. Luke. Sorry. If you need anything…” She squeezed his arm before leaving.

He couldn’t keep living and working like this. It’d been nearly a month since he walked out of Sage’s door and life, and he missed her more and more every day. Lucy had the same bad attitude and warped sense of humor as Sage. It wasn’t Lucy’s fault that whenever she was near, he thought more and more of the woman he lost.

Luke needed to move on with his life and stop mourning over a woman he never had in the first place. Sage was right. She had been up front with him from the very beginning. It was Luke who changed the rules and wanted something more than she could give. Growing up with his own parental rejection, and seeing the hurt and pain dozens of foster kids carried with them every day, taught Luke to be more sensitive and to understand that loving and caring for someone was the only way to mend broken hearts.

He only wished Sage was by his side to love and care for his.

***

Sage

Sage checked her phone for the fourth time. If her newest client didn’t show up within the next five minutes, she was leaving. After fifteen minutes with no courtesy call or text to tell her she was running late, Sage didn’t have a good feeling about this meeting. The woman better have a good excuse for wasting her time.

Finishing her green tea and tossing it into the nearby trash can, Sage next turned off her iPad and slid it into its cushioned pocket in her Coach messenger bag.

Her phone signaled a text.

I got into a car accident. Everyone is okay but will be a while. Can we reschedule?

Now she felt bad for wishing ill on the secretary who was sent out to plan her boss’s wife’s party.

Glad you’re okay. No worries. Call me later. Sage

Sage slid out of the booth and left the coffee shop. It wasn’t in the best area of Portland, but was in a convenient location by the highway. She pulled out her keys and read through her emails on her phone as she rushed to the back parking lot. She nearly made it to her car before getting bumped from behind, her phone crashing to the pavement.

“Son of a—”

“Hey.”

Sage turned at a familiar voice and laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What is it with you Rileys and your clandestine meetings?”

Lucy’s pink hair had grown out, revealing two inches of black roots. Black hair, vibrant green eyes, and cheekbones to die for. The woman could be breathtaking if she cleaned up her look. The last time she’d seen Lucy, she had a devilish gleam to her eyes, but today she seemed spooked.

“Yeah. Sorry.” She looked around as if concerned to be seen with Sage, or worried that she’d get caught by someone. “I gotta go.”

“Wait. Lucy.” Sage reached out and grabbed the girl’s arm, holding her in place. “Are you…are you okay?”

Lucy wouldn’t look her in the eye and kept scanning the parking lot. The girl was probably messed up on drugs. She fit the stereotype.

“Do you need a ride?”

She bit her lip and looked at Sage, considering her options. “Yeah. Sure.” She hefted a bulging black backpack over her shoulder and relaxed a little.

“My car is over here.” Sage bent down to pick up her phone, thanking God for inventing the sturdy OtterBox, and tossed it in her purse. Lucy stayed uncharacteristically close to her and quickly rounded the car and slid into the passenger seat. Sage tossed her bag in the back and got into the driver’s seat. “Where to?”

“Um. My work is…outside of town.”

“Okay.” Sage started the car and steered it out of the lot. “Can you be a little more specific?”

“The south end of Rangley Street.”

Maine wasn’t known for its gangs or ghettos, but the one area of Portland a woman wouldn’t want to be walking, living, or working was Rangley. The police were constantly called to the area for domestic abuse and heroin overdoses.

“Does your brother know where you’re working?”

“Do you really care what my brother thinks?”

Sage raised her eyebrow and bit back her retort. When she got to the north end of Rangley, she pulled into the parking lot of a diner she wouldn’t be caught dead eating at and made sure her doors were locked. Thankfully it was broad daylight or she wouldn’t have even driven to this area.

“Where do you work?”

“I’ll just get out here.” Lucy unlocked her door.

“No you won’t.” Sage locked the doors again.

“You really think you can keep me trapped in your stupid car?”

Sage laughed and turned in her seat so she faced the obstinate girl. “What the hell is your problem? You’re obviously in some sort of trouble and I offered to give you a ride. I’m concerned about your safety and you’re being a bitch to me. Seriously?”

Lucy’s bright green eyes darted all around, scanning the street, the parking lot, her watch.

“You’re not doped up on drugs, are you?”

“Me? No. I don’t do the stuff.”

Sage snorted. The girl looked like a poster child for a drug abuser, but she couldn’t imagine Luke or his family putting up with it. “So what’s the deal?” Lucy shrugged. “Why the pink hair, the pierced brow? I’m assuming you have other questionable piercings and tattoos your family doesn’t know about.”

“Like you’re one to judge. You were probably out slutting around when you were fifteen. The bitchy cheerleader always quick to judge everyone around her. Now look at you. Miss Perfect and rich and snobby. I don’t know what my brother sees in you.”

Sage wasn’t sure how to take that. Slutty, well, yeah. She could be described as that. Cheerleader, hell no. And she was as far from perfect as they came. “This has nothing to do with your brother.”

“You’re damn straight it doesn’t. If you go near him, if you say one word to him about…” Tears formed, causing the ring of black around her eyes to smear down her cheeks.

If a stubborn, arrogant, smartass kid like Lucy was in tears, something was seriously wrong. She couldn’t let the girl out on this street, or any street, in this condition.

“That’s it.” Sage put the car back in drive and tore out of the sketchy parking lot. She drove south to her safe, clean, organized condo, not saying a word to the troubled girl next to her. When she pulled into her space she didn’t wait for Lucy, but got out of her car, yanked open the back door, grabbing her bag and purse, and marched up the steps to her condo. To hell with Lucy if she was going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Leaving the door open, she slipped off her heels, placed her bag and purse on her couch, and pulled out her iPad and phone, bringing them with her to the kitchen.

She didn’t turn around when she heard her front door close, relieved that Lucy followed her in. “I’m making a salad. Do you want one?”

“Do you have a beer?”

“No.”

Sage looked over her shoulder and watched Lucy dump her ugly backpack on the floor. “Vodka?”

“No.”

“Tequila?”

“Water, green tea, or a juice cleanse.”

“Seriously? I know you’re uptight, but I figured you for one who’d drink a dry martini or a glass of wine with every meal.”

“You didn’t ask if I had any wine.” Sage sliced a piece of roasted chicken and tossed it in with the salad.

“Do you have any wine?”

“No.”

Lucy laughed. “Guess I’ll have water.”

“Good choice.”

“What’s with the rabbit diet?”

She pulled two water bottles from the fridge then grabbed the fat-free balsamic vinaigrette. “Plates are above the dishwasher. Silverware to the left of the sink.”

Lucy took the hint and got the dishes ready. They ate in silence, and Lucy’s constant wiping of her eyes didn’t go unnoticed. After they finished their salads and loaded their plates in the dishwasher, Sage leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.

“Spill.”

“What did you do to Luke?”

“Luke, as you said, has nothing to do with this.”

Lucy helped herself to another water bottle from the fridge and picked at the label. “I’m twenty-two and have a GED. I have no experience in anything.” She picked some more, then took a small sip of water. “I don’t want to be one of those kids who mooch off their parents for the rest of their life. All my brothers and sisters have made something from their shitty pasts, but…” She shrugged and peeled the rest of the label off the bottle.

“What do you want to do with your life?”

“There’s nothing I can do.”

“What do you like to do?”

“Paint.”

“Okay.” Sage uncrossed her arms and returned to her seat. “What kind of painting do you do?” She figured spray painting, caricatures, skulls and crossbones.

“Landscapes. Watercolors mostly.”

“Where did you learn to paint?”

She shrugged again. “Just always have.”

“And do Doreen and your siblings know about this talent?” Lucy shook her head. “Why not?”

“Listen, I don’t need you to question me about my reasons for doing things. You don’t know shit about the kind of life I’ve had. You and your perfect little sisters and their husbands and kids. Luke has told me about them. But that’s not what the world is made of.” Lucy pushed her stool back, knocking it to the floor, and grabbed her backpack.

Sage started laughing. “Oh my god. You’re such a cliché. And a hypocrite.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Lucy stomped right up into Sage’s face, anger and violence in her eyes, yet the dark streaks of makeup made her appear vulnerable and scared.

“You’re judging me without knowing anything about my past. And you’re pulling the ‘poor me’ shit all kids from effed up dysfunction pull. I’m the queen of it, so don’t think you’re getting a pity party from me. Now tell me what the hell you were running from and why you’re looking over your shoulder like someone is out to get you.”

The look of fear that crossed the troubled girl’s face frightened Sage. “Tell me, Lucy. I’ll help you. Whatever it is.”

“I can’t get you involved,” she whispered.

“I already am.”

Lucy’s shoulders slouched and the tension in her face softened. Sage escorted her to the living room and pulled her down on the couch.