Page 50 of Luck of the Draw

Her jaw slackened, and her eyes stretched wide. “I can’t wear something of your grandmother’s, Brennan.”

“Sure you can,” he said dismissively. “In fact, if she were still alive, she’d probably offer it to you herself.”

“But you barely know me. I can’t wear your grandmother’s clothes.”

Brennan chuckled. “I know you plenty. Besides. It’s just an old shawl. It’s not like I’m breaking out her diamond wedding tiara.”

Skye lifted one eyebrow. “You have a real diamond tiara?”

“Yup.” He slipped his hands in his pockets. “I’ve always been expected to get married, and my grandfather left it to me so that my bride could wear it. However, I am vehemently opposed to marriage, and therefore it will simply spend eternity in my safe. Although, if Liza and Connor have a girl, I’ll give it to her to wear for her wedding if she wants it.”

She turned to the large mirror that hung over the fireplace. “You’re really close with them, huh?”

“Yeah. They’re more like family than my actual family.” He stood behind her, sweeping her hair away from her neck and smoothing it down her back. “Them and this married couple who live next door to them. He’s Scott, and she’s Ophelia, and her grandparents are usually around. Connor’s parents, too, because they live on the street behind them. And this kid named Luke and his older brother, Gabe, who are both Marine vets. They all live in Algiers Point and, at risk of sounding really sappy, they’re the real family that I have. Meaning, they’re the family I chose. Which is sometimes better than family you’re born with. In my case at least. Given that I am the black sheep of my own snooty, snobby biological family.”

Skye smiled at that, but also racked her brain for a question that underscored her out-of-towner status. “Algiers Point,” she repeated. “Is that another city nearby?”

“It’s a neighborhood here in New Orleans,” he explained. “Just on the other side of the river. A very darling little neighborhood, packed to the gills with good, salt-of-the-earth people. Lots of vets, too. Which is how I got so tangled up with them. Connor specifically. He got out of the army about eleven years ago and was fifty-shades of fucked up, and he needed somebody to take care of him. So I made that my responsibility. In doing so, I became very close with everybody else.”

“So, you became friends with himjust becausehe needed help?” She couldn’t help squinting incredulously. The idea was completely foreign to her. Altruism was a lie, and there was always a self-serving reason why anyone did anything.

“Of course I did.” Brennan gathered her hair into his palms again, sweeping the long strands through his hands. “I knew I couldn’t save every fucked-up veteran, but Connor was one that I knew I could because he was the one that was there. He was the one my life happened to intersect with, and so I permanently took him under my wing and made it my personal responsibility that he was going to make it.” He chuckled lightly. “I have a bit of a personality flaw when it comes to troubled people.”

She met his eyes in the reflection and said with just a hint of sarcasm, “Do you?”

“I do. I have a compulsion to try to save people.”

Skye kept her face neutral. “I don’t need saving, Brennan.”

He pressed his lips tightly together and stroked her hair again. “I know. I’m just mentioning it conversationally.”

He was really nice. There was no ignoring or getting away from that. Skye offered him a sweet smile, and he returned it along with a quick kiss on her temple.

“So, we’re all dressed up with somewhere to go,” she said, as they stepped away from the mirror and toward the door. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” he said, opening the front door and holding her hand as she stepped out, “first we’re going to eat at the most beautiful five-star restaurant in the city. After that, I’m taking you to the Saenger Theatre, where you’ll probably end up in tears again because the only show playing tonight is Les Mis.”

She had to laugh as she clutched her chest. It was one of the few books she’d ever read, mostly because it had been sitting forgotten in a closet she used to hide in at one of her early foster homes. And as an adult who’d been thrust into acertain kind of life, Fantine was now a littletoorelatable. “Oh, no. I will. I will totally cry, Brennan. I hope you’re prepared for that.”

He whipped a handkerchief out of his pocket and twirled it in the air. “I am prepared.”

A shiny black sedan eased up to the curb at that moment and the driver poked his head above the roof. “Good evening, young Mr. Riley!”

“Hey, Mr. Livingston.” Brennan waved. “Stay right there. I’ll get the door.” He pulled open the car door and held out his hand for Skye. “After you, sweetheart.”

She paused before sliding in to smile at him. It was so obvious how hard he was trying to make up for earlier. It was all over-the-top, but really, really sweet.

She placed her hand on his cheek, letting her thumb trace the side of one of his dimples, and then kissed his lips.

Ugh. Hislips.

“Thank you.” She stroked his cheek again. “All of this has been exactly the adventure I hoped for, and one I’m going to remember for the rest of my life.”

He flashed a grin that pulled his dimples deep. “Don’t mention it. It’s entirely my pleasure.”

Brennan closed the door after she sat down and then entered the car through the opposite door. “And for a night cap, I’m taking you to Harrah’s for some glitzy dice-tossing.” He paused as he turned to her and draped his arm over her shoulders. “That is, if you’re not exhausted. I know we got up kind of early.”

Skye laughed again. “The reason for the lack of sleep this morning was more than worth it.”

---