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Her chest caved, conflicted between coming to her own defense and jumping on the gravy train of his assumptions.
She chose the latter. For his sake.
“I’ll admit, it was fun. I’m not particularly attracted to Errol, physically. But the fact he now holds all of Marshall’s assets is strong compensation. I mean, hey, you’re a small-town mayor. Someone I have history with and who’s easy on the eyes. Add the Santos Special to all that goodness, and well, who could blame me?”
His eyes narrowed as she did her best to maintain a shallow exterior while her heart was bursting inside with asphyxiating despair.
“You’re lying.” He glared at her. “And…doing a shitty job of it.”
“Lucas.” She tilted her head, feigning superficial remorse. “For once, I’m trying to be honest with you.”
“You’re looking at me the same way you did when you tried to explain away your new jacked-up hairstyle. Or when you claimed to have stolen Lorraine’s purse under the bleachers, or admitted to having a date at a concert, with the football team’s offensive line.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She knew exactly what he was talking about.
“You forget, Bird,” he said, sidling awfully close to her and cutting off what was left of the surrounding oxygen.
Where was all the fucking air?
“I’ve known you since third grade. I’ve spent nearly a lifetime studying all your tricks, ticks, and hand gestures. I’ve memorized your singular body language to the point of being a Birdie Wellborn expert of the first order. If you were an instrument, I’d be first chair.”
He was so close, his hot breath engulfed her ear like an ethereal aphrodisiac causing a furrow of molten lava to course through her body, slamming to an abrupt stop right between her legs.
She then remembered her fiancé, soon-to-be-victim, was watching this exchange.
Long game, Birdie. Remember, the long game.
Placing a hand on Lucas’s chest, she took a step back.
“I have to go. I’d ask you to tell Mia to call me, but we both know that’s never gonna happen. Please tell her I love her, will always love her…” Realizing she was getting too emotional, she lifted her chin, “…and to have a nice life.”
She made her way to the passenger door, failed to execute a graceful exit as she wasn’t sure how to open the damned thing as the handle was flush with the exterior, with nothing to grab on to.
She jerked her hand back as the handle automatically popped out. With barely a touch, the door clicked open. She gave him what she hoped was a thoughtless finger wave before sliding into the seat and closing the door behind her.
He didn’t wave back. Or move a muscle. Just stood watching her with a look she had never seen before and had yet to give a name.
Resolute Lucas was nowhere to be found and certainly not Lustful Lucas. Repulsed Lucas was also incognito.
As Errol drove past him, with his arms crossed against his broad chest, he watched her until she finally found the strength of mind to divert her eyes.
Because staring her down, letting her know that this was far from over, was Plotting Lucas. She prayed this newly emerging persona would let sleeping dogs lie, so she could focus on what she had to do.
* * *
Lucas refusedto accept what appeared to be reality.
This was all kinds of fucked up.
Something wasn’t right.
Despite hearing the hurtful words coming out of Birdie’s mouth, her body had told another story altogether. He knew her so well. She was hiding something, not just running away.
When he returned to Mia’s room, his daughter appeared more calm as Bernadette fluffed a pillow and tucked it behind her back.
“Did you find her?” Bernadette asked as Mia’s eyes watched his with feigned disinterest.
“I did.” He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mia, you’ll be staying with me in Wayward for…a while.”
