Luc (Rossi Brothers) Read online

  Luc

  J.M. Stewart

  Avon, Massachusetts

  Copyright © 2016 by Joanne Stewart.

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

  Published by

  Crimson Romance™

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, OH 45242. U.S.A.

  www.crimsonromance.com

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-9952-1

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-9952-1

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-9953-X

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-9953-8

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © iStockphoto.com/Geber86.

  Thank you for purchasing a Crimson Romance novel. Please sign up for our weekly newsletter for information on new releases, contests, discounts and more.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  More from This Author

  Also Available

  Dedicated to my husband, Chris, for teaching me what true romance really is.

  Chapter One

  Liz Anderson stared at the familiar bright red door. She and her longtime best friend, Samantha, and Sam’s husband, Joe, had done dinner and board games once a week since she’d come home to Angel Bay not quite two years ago. Sam insisted on it, and on any other day, it would’ve been something she looked forward to, if only because it broke up the lonely monotony of her day.

  Tonight, all she wanted was a bag of dark chocolate and a box of tissues.

  Exactly two years ago today, she’d opened her front door to find two uniformed airmen on her doorstep. The kind of visit every military wife hopes never to receive. She knew what it meant even before the young serviceman opened his mouth—her “til death do us part” had come forty years too soon.

  Daniel wouldn’t be coming home.

  Which meant that tonight, she wasn’t in the mood to put on the act. To smile for Sam’s sake and pretend she was fine. Pretend that being alone one more day wasn’t killing her.

  Sitting patiently beside her, her golden retriever, Bruce, gave a soft whine.

  She glanced down at him at him and stroked his soft head. “Sorry, boy. I’m just not into it tonight. How ’bout we go to the park, instead?”

  Bruce whined again and pawed at the door, then looked expectantly up at her. His soulful brown eyes pleaded with her, as if to ask, “Please?”

  How could she resist that sweet face? She knew darn well he looked forward to these visits. He got to see his best buddy, Joe.

  Liz pulled her shoulders back and punched the bell. She could do this. Being here was better than being home alone, crying. Right?

  Barely thirty seconds later, the door opened to reveal Sam, looking as gorgeous as ever. At forty-one, Sam had the kind of looks that made women half her age clutch their boyfriends close when she walked down the street. She was all long limbs, willowy body, and big blue eyes.

  Liz was the polar opposite. She was short, wide-bottomed, and had twenty pounds too many. If she hadn’t known Sam for most of her life, she might have felt like a faded flower.

  Liz waggled her fingers in greeting. “Hi.”

  She barely got the greeting out before Sam dove across the threshold, wrapping her in a hug so tight Liz squeaked. “Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you’re here!”

  Liz let out a nervous laugh. Okay, something was definitely up. Sam’s expression held a little too much enthusiasm for a night of dinner and board games. “We just spoke this morning, Sammy. You’re acting like you haven’t seen me in ages.”

  Sam let out a laugh that sounded this side of uncomfortable and dropped her gaze, fingering one of the folds in Liz’s summer dress. “This is gorgeous. Is it new?”

  “Yup. I went shopping this morning. Found this at the mall in Oak Harbor. It’s completely not my style, which is exactly why I bought it. I needed something different. Something new.” Liz glanced down at herself, eyeing the low-cut neckline of her halter dress. Today, she’d felt like not being herself, and this dress, with its bold, exotic print, said wild and fun. Everything she currently wasn’t. She lifted her gaze to Sam. “Too much for a night with you and Joe?”

  “Not at all.” Sam reached for her hand, giving her fingers a squeeze. “It looks fantastic on you.”

  Instead of stepping back and inviting her inside, Sam drew her bottom lip into her mouth and gnashed it between her teeth. Suspicion skittered up Liz’s spine. She knew that look. Knew it well. Combined with her overenthusiastic greeting, that look suggested Sam had something up her sleeve.

  She pinned Sam with a narrow-eyed stare. “There’s something you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?”

  “No! I’m just so glad you came. You shouldn’t be alone today.” Sam straightened her shoulders, her expression suddenly bright and jovial. She waved a hand at Liz. When Bruce whined again, Sam looked down at him and nodded in the direction of the hallway behind her. “Well, go on. Go get him. He’s in the kitchen.”

  Bruce leapt into the house, tail wagging. His nails clipped the hardwood floors as he trotted down the long hallway left of the living room.

  Sam stepped aside, pulled the door open wider, and ushered Liz in with a wave of her hand. As Liz crossed the threshold, masculine laughter drifted down the hallway, halting her on the welcome mat. Joe’s hearty belly laugh she recognized, but along with it came a second, unfamiliar voice. A low, masculine rumble kind of laugh. The quiet hush of conversation followed. That second voice meant Sam had company.

  It was only supposed to be the four of them. Her, Sam, Joe, and Bruce. Like always.

  “I have a surprise for you.” Sam let out that nervous laugh again as she closed the door and stopped beside Liz on the welcome mat.

  Liz jerked her gaze to her best friend. “What did you do?”

  Sam clasped her hands together and flashed a thousand-watt smile. “Do you remember that barbeque Mom and Dad threw right before Danny left for his last tour? He pulled me aside while you helped Mom clean the kitchen. He told me, ‘If I die out there, don’t let her grieve forever. Make her get up, Sammy.’ Every time he left for a tour, he made me promise the same thing.”

  Daniel was Sam’s older brother. If anybody knew what today meant, it was her. Of all days for Sam to bring this up.

  “I remember. He always made me promise him something similar.” Liz gave a bare nod as grief kicked her hard in the chest. She’d known the risks, what being an Air Force wife to an active duty airman meant. She’d known every time he left for deployment he might not come back. Yet somehow, she’d never expected the worst to actually happen to her. It always happened to someone else.

  She’d spent the last two years trying to pick up the pieces, to somehow learn to live without him. She hadn’t gotten far. Oh, she’d left the base in California to return home to Angel Bay, but she flat o
ut didn’t know how to move on with her life. The need was there. To get out from beneath the grief. To feel the sun again. Joy. It was the “leaving Daniel behind” part she was having trouble with.

  “So, I’m making you get up.” Sam gave a firm nod, mouth pursed in stubborn determination, and grabbed Liz’s hand, tugging her up the hallway.

  Entering the kitchen a few moments later Liz’s suspicions were confirmed. On the other side of the center island, holding a wire whisk poised over a bowl, stood a man. A man who wasn’t supposed to be there.

  Liz dropped her voice. “You set me up.”

  And not with just anybody, either. Sam had set her up with Luc Rossi—Sam’s boss. Sam worked as the sous chef at Aldo’s Authentic Italian Ristorante and Pizzeria. Along with being the head chef, Luc co-owned the place with his brother and his grandmother. Liz had seen him there at least a dozen times since she’d moved back to Angel Bay. The restaurant had become a favorite, and one of the brothers was always out in the dining room. The whole place screamed family, but according to Sam, Luc ran a tight ship. Slave driver, she believed Sam had called him once.

  Luc blinked back at her, big brown eyes wide and stunned, before looking over at Joe. “You didn’t mention anybody else coming over.”

  Joe’s mouth formed a thin, disapproving line as he shook his head. “I told you this was a bad idea, sweetheart.”

  So the rat had fed Luc the same cockamamie story to get him over here.

  Liz grabbed Sam’s arm before she could utter a peep and dragged her down the hallway. Once out of earshot, she whirled around. “How could you do this to me?”

  Sam held up her hands. “Don’t be mad. I knew you’d never come if I told you. He’s nice, Lizzie.”

  “I don’t care how nice he is.” Liz flung her hands in the air and pivoted, pacing several steps down the hallway. “You didn’t ask, Sam. From the look on his face, clearly you didn’t tell him either. You can’t do that.”

  Long moments passed as Sam stood, silent. Likely trying to come up with a good excuse to worm her way out of this one.

  Finally, she heaved a sigh. “All right, you want the truth? He reminds me of you. He works too much, and he never goes out. He’s as harmless as they come, and he’s grieving, too.”

  Liz whirled around to face Sam. “That’s not reassuring, Sam. That just tells me you’re playing matchmaker. With two people who aren’t ready.”

  “No. I’m forcing two people I care about to get up.” Sam hiked her chin a notch, staring at Liz at if daring her to argue. Stubborn, that’s what she was. And cocky enough to think she was always right.

  “I don’t care why you did it. You shouldn’t have.” She jabbed a pointed finger at Sam. She wanted to strangle her best friend. She really did. “You had no right.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t agree.” Her shoulders deflated, and Sam gave a sad, slow shake of her head. She sighed. “It’s time, babe. Time to get up and join the land of the living again, and I trust him. I just thought the two of you could chat, get to know each other, and have a little fun. No pressure, no strings attached. That’s all. I promise.”

  Liz let out a low growl and pivoted, pacing back and forth along the hallway with all the frustration winding through her. She hated to even admit it, but Sam was right on several counts. She’d promised Daniel the same thing. That if the day ever arrived when he didn’t come home, she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life mourning him. She’d promised him she’d live her life. Do all those things they’d talked about over the years.

  Sam was also right that it was time. To get off her duff and stop feeling sorry for herself.

  Not that she’d tell Sam that. “This should have been my choice. Mine. Do you even know how old he is? He can’t possibly be more than twenty-six. I’m forty, Sam. Forty! That’s fourteen years.”

  “He’s not that much younger than you, actually.” Sam waved a hand in the air, a sort of la-de-da gesture, as if somehow the explanation made it all okay. “He’s thirty.”

  Liz swallowed down the panic clawing its way through her. “That’s still ten years. My God. Do you know what people will say? The kind of looks we’ll get? I’d be practically robbing the cradle.”

  She’d grown up in Angel Bay, a cove on Whidbey Island, one of the five islands in the Puget Sound, just outside of Seattle, Washington. Dad had moved them here after her mother’s death when she was three. It had to be the friendliest town on earth. The majority of the residents, all 2,000 of them, had grown up together, and everybody knew everybody else. They also adored gossip. Good Lord. This little tidbit, that she dated Luc Rossi, would no doubt be all over town by noon tomorrow.

  Being in the public eye wasn’t something she was used to yet. Normally, she was a quiet, private person. It’s what she loved so much about being a writer. She could lose herself in a story and do it all from the privacy of her own home. She’d chosen a pen name originally because she could hide behind it. She hadn’t wanted to know what her husband’s friends would think of the fact that she wrote erotic romance. While deep down, she knew Sam was right, that she had nothing to be ashamed of, it was still hard to rectify with the knowledge that some people saw erotic romances as little more than written porn.

  If she ever wanted to land a print contract with a big New York publishing house, though, she needed to learn to tell people she was an author without shaking in her shoes. Her hometown ought to be the perfect place to start, but if gossip spread about her and Luc, it would no doubt give them all the wrong ideas.

  Provided, of course, that she actually managed to write something worth publishing. Her last release had been six months ago. The last in a series she’d started during one of Daniel’s final deployments. Since his death, she’d barely written a word. How did you write about sensuality when sex was the last thing on your mind? When you didn’t feel sexy?

  Sam opened her mouth but closed it again as her gaze shifted to something behind Liz. Liz didn’t need to ask to know Luc had just stepped up behind her. Dread sank like a stone in her stomach. Crap. If he’d heard all that, she’d probably offended the poor man.

  “She’s right, Sam.”

  Liz straightened her shoulders and forced herself to turn around. Luc stood in the archway between the kitchen and the hallway, arms folded. His mouth turned down at the corners, and deep grooves formed between his brows.

  His gaze shifted to her, and for a moment, they stood regarding each other. Eyes the color dark, rich chocolate slid over her, taking her in from head to toe. Okay, so she’d admit he was gorgeous. Much better looking up close and personal. He had a basketball player’s physique—well over six feet, with broad shoulders and a wide chest. A lean, muscular frame and long limbs. His dark brown hair curled over his forehead in a way that was simultaneously sexy and boyish. He was a walking fantasy.

  But he was still way too damn young.

  As if somehow her best friend had suddenly become a mind reader, Sam laid a hand on her shoulder and leaned her mouth beside Liz’s ear. “You can thank me later.”

  Liz elbowed Sam and whispered back, “Nope. Going to kill you later.”

  “I’ll just go check on dinner and let you two get better acquainted.” Sam had the audacity to wink at her before she pranced back into the kitchen.

  Leaving her and Luc alone in the hallway. They regarded each other again, and tension rose so strongly Liz was sure something would crack.

  She pulled her shoulders back and flashed a smile. “I’m sorry you heard all that. It’s not you.”

  “No offense taken.” He returned the same tight, uncomfortable smile.

  Several more moments ticked by in painfully awkward silence. Yeah, this was going well. Christ. What the hell did she say to him now? Except the answer came as quickly as the question. If this had to happen, it would happen on her terms.

  She heaved a sigh. “Look, since we’re stuck together for the evening, I think it’s only fair to tell you. I don’t normally do
blind dates. Or younger men. Nothing personal. In her own, warped way, I’m sure Sam meant well, but I’m not in the market for a relationship.”

  Luc’s impassive expression finally cracked, in the form of a grin. He chuckled.

  “Me either. Guess we’ll have to base our relationship on sex, then.” He winked, pushed away from the wall, and returned to the kitchen.

  All she could do was stand there gaping. How the hell had he meant that?

  Except even as she asked herself the question, her mind filled in the blanks. He was probably laughing at her. No doubt thought his little comeback would tantalize an older woman like her. Ever since losing Daniel, she’d been wary of dating and all the things that came with it. Even though she took good care of herself, she wasn’t twenty anymore. And his teasing made her feel like a fool. A desperate, forty-year-old fool.

  She drew her shoulders back, irritated—at him and Sam and this whole damn night. It would serve him right if she gave a little back, showed him that older women were smart and could both take it and dish it out. Yup, Luc would learn that two could play at this game.

  Chapter Two

  Luc crossed the kitchen with a confidence he didn’t feel, all for the benefit of the three sets of eyes on him. Joe, who stood at the far counter chopping vegetables, shot him a smirk of approval. Beside him, Sam heated a large soup pot on the stove. Despite the sidelong view he had of her face, her ear-to-ear grin stood out like a blinking neon sign. Oh, for sure she watched every move he made and loved every minute of seeing him squirm.

  He probably shouldn’t have said that to Liz. It would no doubt give her the wrong impression. Between his three-year-old daughter, Alyssa, and trying to rearrange his schedule at the restaurant to make more time for her, the last thing his life needed or had room for was a woman. He didn’t want a relationship any more than Liz did. Maria’s betrayal had taken it out of him.

  But Liz was right. They were stuck together for the night. He had no desire to spend the next few hours walking on eggshells around her. Maybe if they both relaxed a little, they could get through this. And if there was one thing he’d learned in working with the public, it was how to diffuse a difficult situation. Humor, though a tad warped as his often was, usually did the trick.