Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3)

Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3) Page 29

Bryce stiffened. “Actually, he’s doing great. I mean, the dialysis is just as good as a regular liver.”

“Kidney.”

“That’s what I meant. Besides, he’ll get a new kidney any day.” Bryce started picking at a hole in his jeans.

“He’s not on the transplant list, buddy. The cancer ruled that out.”

“I’ll give him my kidney.” Bryce’s eyes filled with tears.

“And I’d give him mine, if it would help.” Lucas put a hand on Bryce’s shoulder. “His biggest concern is you. He wants you to have a great life—”

“I do have a great life. And my dad...I’ll talk to him. But he’s not going anywhere. I won’t let him. Anyway, why are you talking about the job stuff?”

“I have some construction work to do while I’m here. Maybe you could help.” Bryce looked unconvinced. “We could hang out, you know? And you could learn some construction skills, and who knows? You might like it.”

Bryce mulled that over. “Okay,” he said, grinning. “Sure! Swing some hammers, then grab a few beers at O’Rourke’s, go down to the lake, maybe pick up some girls.”

Lucas closed his eyes briefly. “Sure. Sounds good. Pick you up tomorrow morning, okay?”

At that moment, the window shattered with a crash, causing them both to jump.

“What the heck?” Bryce said. He ran up the stairs and out the front door, slamming it behind him hard enough to make the house shake.

But the window was on the side of the house, not the front. Lucas went over to it, his feet crunching on the broken glass, and looked outside.

Colleen O’Rourke was standing in Didi’s lilacs, staring at the street, talking on the phone.

He opened the door that led to the backyard and, his feet silent on the grass, went up behind her.

Ah. Paulie Petrosinsky was standing in front of her little Porsche, wiping her hands on her thighs. Bryce stood with her, talking amiably.

“Okay, Paulie,” Colleen muttered, “I want you to—”

“What are you doing, Colleen?”

She jumped, hitting her head on a branch. “Jesus! You scared me!” she hissed.

“Jesus, you scared me!” Paulie barked, her voice clearly heard from the phone.

“What?” Bryce asked, his voice audible, as well.

“Nothing,” Colleen said.

“Nothing!” Paulie said.

For the love of God. “Give that to me,” Lucas said.

“No,” Colleen said.

“No,” Paulie echoed.

Colleen tapped the mute button on her iPhone. “Still good at sneaking around, I see,” she grumbled.

He felt a smile start in his chest. Yep. Once or twice (four times, actually), he’d sneaked into her own yard, climbed the trellis to her bedroom and spent a happy night wrapped around her. They’d drawn the line at actual sex, but just barely.

Happy times.

Colleen seemed to be thinking the same things, because her face got pink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked softly.

“I’m trying to help Paulie make Bryce feel manly.”

“How?”

“By having her act feminine and helpless,” she said.

“Ah. So she has engine trouble?”

“I slashed her front tire. Think Bryce can change a flat?”

“No.”

She grinned, and Lucas felt it like an electric shock.

Once, Colleen had been the prettiest girl around.

Now, she was beautiful.

And not a girl anymore.

“Don’t bug me,” she said, tearing her eyes off him. “I have work to do.” She tapped her phone, and once again, they could hear the star-crossed lovers from the street.

“So, um, do you know what I should do?” Paulie said, clearing her throat.

“Call Triple A?” Bryce suggested.

“Oh. So you don’t know how to change a flat tire?” Paulie asked, looking rather desperately at Colleen, who pointed at Bryce’s back.

“Not really. I never could figure out the jack, you know?” Bryce said.

Colleen whispered, “Tell him you’re sure he can figure it out. Be feminine. Be helpless. Make him feel strong and manly.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Tell me when you’ve ever acted feminine or helpless in your life.”

She looked up at him, her face suddenly stricken. She took a shaky breath. “Lucas, please,” she whispered, blinking back tears. “I’m just trying to help my friend. You’re right, it’s stupid. I just didn’t know what else to do.” Her mouth quivered.

“Nice try.”

She shrugged. “Well, it works on everyone else.”

He took the phone, clicked End and put it in his front jeans pocket. “You want it, you have to come get it.”

“I will. I’ll cut it out with my Swiss Army knife, and I won’t be careful of the landscape.” She waited. He didn’t move. “Lucas, give me my damn phone.” She reached for his pocket, but he intercepted her hand.

“You set this up, Colleen. Let them finish it.” Her hand was smooth and cool and fit into his just right. Same as always. Because he couldn’t resist, he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, that soft, sweet skin.

“Oh, wow,” she sighed. “You’re really turning me on.” She batted her eyelashes at him, then pulled her hand free. Reached into his pocket.

¡Hola!

She kept her eyes locked on his. Fumbled around...deliberately, he figured. She gave that wicked smile.

Still the same Colleen.

And thank God for that.

He bent his head so that his unshaven cheek brushed hers. “Be careful what you wish for,” he whispered. God, she smelled good. Better than the lilacs, even.

“The ego on you could choke a blue whale,” she said, yanking her hand (and her phone) free. Her cheeks were very encouragingly red. She tapped her phone; a second later, Paulie tapped her Bluetooth. Command Central was once again established.

Bryce had found the spare tire in the trunk and put the lug wrench on a nut without too much difficulty. “I saw this in a movie,” he said happily, giving the wrench a hard turn. It sprang off and hit him in the arm. “Oops. Hang on, let me try that again.”

“Tell him how glad you are that you got this flat in front of his house. He’s a regular white knight,” Colleen muttered into the phone.

“It’s so lucky I got this flat in front of your house,” Paulie said. “You’re a prince, Bryce.”

“No prob, dude!” Bryce answered. He seemed to get the lug nuts loosened, but the jack was more perplexing. Paulie waited, cracking her knuckles. Bryce fumbled. Turned the jack on its side to see if it would work better that way, which, shockingly, it didn’t. “You know what?” he said. “My cousin’s here. I bet he could do this in ten seconds.”

“Maybe less,” Lucas murmured.

“No, don’t let him leave,” Colleen hissed into the phone. “Improvise.”

“Wait, wait,” Paulie said. “Uh...um...here. I’ll lift the front bumper, and you change the tire, okay? Count of three.”

And sure enough, she hefted the front end of her car.

“She’s magnificent,” Lucas said.

“Shush,” Colleen muttered. “And she is.”

“I meant it.”

“Wow!” Bryce exclaimed. “You’re superstrong. What’s your workout?”

“Marine Boot Camp 360,” Paulie grunted.

“No kidding! Me, too!” Bryce exclaimed. “How much can you bench-press?”

“Pull the tire off, for God’s sake,” Paulie said. “I’m gonna pop a hernia.”

“It’s like watching a  p**n o,” Lucas murmured.

Colleen snorted and hit Mute again on the phone, as her protégé apparently couldn’t take orders while lifting a small vehicle. “So why’d you get a divorce?” she asked after a minute.

“Maybe I never got over you.”

“Ooh. Good line. I’m serious. Why’d you leave that sweet deal of yours?”

“I thought we were having dinner sometime. I’d rather not discuss my marriage in the bushes.” That being said, he could see down her shirt. Push-up bra, thank you, Lord. She’d never been shy about showcasing her assets, and times like this, he was grateful.

She seemed to read his mind, because she glanced back at him. Busted. He grinned.

So did she, completely confident.

It suddenly occurred to Lucas that he was single, and Colleen was single, and he’d be in town for—

No. He wasn’t here for a relationship, and certainly not one that would doubtlessly be as tangled and intense as his and Colleen’s had been ten years ago. She wasn’t the fling type.

At least, she hadn’t been. She’d been in it with her whole heart, and it came back to him like a tidal wave, what it had been like to be loved by Colleen O’Rourke.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “The whole Heathcliff thing doesn’t work anymore.”

“You seeing anyone?” he asked.

“Oh, shut up.”

Bryce dropped the tire, laughing. It seemed like Paulie’s arms were shaking.

“She’s gonna drop that on his head any minute now,” Lucas observed.

Colleen sighed. “So go help. Be manly and heroic, Lucas. You do it so well.”

“You’re right,” he murmured. “Nice to see you, hotshot. Stop throwing rocks through windows, okay?”

With that, he walked toward the front yard.

“Dude, thank God!” Bryce said.

“Hey, Paulie,” he said. “You can put the car down now. I got this.”

A minute later, he heard a car start and looked down the street. There was Colleen, behind the wheel of a MINI Cooper convertible.

Hot girl in a red car.

Worked every time.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“IT’S GOOD TO see you, Lucas. Even if you did break my baby girl’s heart all those years ago.”

“Oh, snap,” said Bryce, grinning. Mrs. O’Rourke smiled fondly at him.

Lucas nodded. “Good to see you, too, Mrs. O’Rourke.” It was strange to see Colleen’s mother, that’s what it was, and even weirder to be back in the house he’d visited when he was Colleen’s boyfriend. It hadn’t changed much.

“Call me Jeanette. I’m thinking of going back to my maiden name anyway. Come on, I’ll show you what I’m thinking.” She led the way to the back of the house. “This was his study. Where he called That Whore for phone sex, no doubt. I’d like you to rip it down. Burn it, if possible.”

“Better late than never?” Bryce suggested.

“Exactly, sweetheart. It’s been ten years. Men. They really suck.”

“Not me, of course,” Bryce said.

“Well, not yet,” Jeanette murmured. “I’m sure you have it in you. Are you seeing anyone, Bryce, dear?”

“Why? You wanna go out sometime?”

Colleen’s mother smiled and slapped Bryce’s arm.

Jeanette O’Rourke had tracked Lucas down and said she had a project for him. Given that he was trying to train Bryce, and construction hadn’t started on the public safety building yet, he agreed to come over and take a look.

The study was typical of 1970s architecture; a long room with a few small windows and some built-in cabinets on one end, and still a shrine to Pete O’Rourke—a picture of him with some minor politician on a golf course, a trophy from high school, a slew of Robert Ludlum novels. A picture of a college-age Colleen, her cheeky smile, gray eyes soft, hair gleaming in the sun.