“So?”
“So they want her to have children. Loads of children.”
“The last thing this world needs is carbon copies of Lucas Thorn running around, wreaking havoc on this city. The police have enough trouble with Mr. Thompson.”
“Cute.” He sighed and turned in a circle, then finally pulled out my one chair and pointed to it. “Sit.”
“I think it’s better that I—”
“Now.”
I slumped over to the chair and sat, crossing my arms over my chest while he started pulling out box after box of Thai food.
My mouth watering, I stared until my vision blurred as steam from the chicken pad Thai wafted into the air, tickling my nose.
I let out a moan; I couldn’t help it.
Lucas stopped with the food, his body stiffened.
“What?” I swallowed and glanced up at his gorgeous face.
His eyes locked on mine. “I forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
“That when you’re hungry you eat like a hyena.” His eyes zeroed in on my full mouth. “Or a shark during Shark Week.”
His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing gorgeous tan forearms. I tried not to stare, but it was hard. This was why Lucas Thorn was a menace to society, and a very bad man. He was too good-looking to be real. It was unfair that he had such a horrible personality to go with those good looks.
Not that he’d always been such an unfortunate human being.
But still.
He slapped my wrist with one of the plastic forks and shook his head. “Not yet.”
“But—”
“Patience. Tomorrow night.” He licked his lips, suddenly appearing more nervous than I’d ever seen him look. “I need you to be . . . nice.”
“That’s what this is about? You want me to be nice to you? During dinner?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes . . . nice to me during dinner. And not the fake nice that makes me want to strangle you within an inch of your life, but the nice where your smile actually reaches your eyes—and your laugh makes a man forget himself. That kind of nice.” He turned away and looked toward the spider. The lucky bastard was probably never going to leave now that it had experienced the Lucas Thorn effect. “Think you can handle that?”
I slowly pried the fork from his now-clenched fist, and then maybe insanity took hold, because I placed my hand on his and squeezed. “I promise; I’ll be nice.”
“Swear.” His eyes narrowed as he peered down at our hands. “Over your Thai food.”
“You’re serious?”
“Deathly.” His voice lowered as he leaned down so we were inches from each other, our bodies almost touching.
“Fine.” I took a deep breath. “I swear over this Thai food that I’ll be nice to you tomorrow night, the real nice that you want.”
“Or so help me God I will never eat another bite of Thai food again.” His eyebrows shot up. “Say it or no food.”
The temptation of my favorite dishes was too much to bear, so I gritted my teeth and repeated. “Or so help me God I will never eat another bite of Thai food again.”
“Great!” He smiled brightly. “Because my parents are coming.”
Chapter Sixteen
LUCAS
My parents were great. I took a long sip of bourbon.
Fantastic, extremely supportive, loving. This time I chugged half my drink and slammed it down onto the bar, then checked my watch.
Correction. They were great until I ruined their relationship with the Blacks and solidified our family as the one that nobody waved to during the annual neighborhood Fourth of July celebration.
People had taken sides.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to discover who ended up in camp Thorn.
Crickets.
And my parents.
My sister was solid middle ground.
Which meant that my entire family was probably ready to throw a damn parade over the fact that somehow I was making a wrong right again.
There wasn’t enough whiskey in the world to calm the nerves I was feeling. Letting Avery loose on them without prompting her just seemed like the worst sort of idea I could possibly come up with.
Then again, the only other option was to admit the lie.
Admit my lifestyle.
And let them down all over again.
Mom would cry.
Dad would yell.
And news would spread of how far good ol’ Lucas Thorn had fallen again. But honestly, I didn’t give a shit about myself.
But my parents? I loved them.
They’d supported me during one of my darkest times; the least I could do was have dinner with them, play nice with Avery, and let them assume that all had finally been healed. Then later Avery and I could mutually and publicly decide to break off our relationship on good terms.
“Another?” The bartender nodded toward me, already grabbing a clean glass.
My fingers slid against the cold glass as I stared down into the clear brown liquid. How the hell did this happen?
Right. Avery.
Another drink.
Damn it, she just had to try to help. I should have known better. After all, I’d been on the opposite end of her help more times than I could count.
Once she tried to save a cat that I’m 99 percent sure was possessed by an actual demon. It nearly took off one of my testicles and, damn it, I needed those!
The mouse she decided to save when she was twelve almost made it, but my childhood dog grabbed ahold of it; blood went everywhere.
And it wasn’t her fault the neighbors were having a birthday party at the time for their four-year-old son—or that all his friends just happened to be in the front yard when it happened.