LLucy’s Revenge(Divine Creek Ranch 15)(56)

Patrick’s face twisted into a grimace and he let out a silent curse as he set his coffee cup down and whispered, “It’s Roberta.”

Lucy heard footsteps approaching from the foyer. “Patrick, I tried calling but no one answered the phone. I got called in to the hospital and have to drop PJ off earlier than we agreed on.”

The three of them looked from one to the other, and at their state of undress. Wearing nothing but a man’s dress shirt, and still glowing and sweaty from hot sex, was not how she wanted to greet his sister. Beck and Patrick weren’t in a much better state, dressed only in boxers. And their flushed dishevelment made it obvious what they’d been up to.

In order to get back to the bedroom, they’d have to pass by the living room. Before they could decide what to do, Patrick’s sister barged into the kitchen and stopped, her eyebrows practically reaching her hairline.

Lucy knew Roberta wouldn’t have been Patrick’s first choice to see them like this. Now she knew firsthand why, as Roberta frowned.

“Now doesn’t this look cozy.”



* * * *



Hands on her hips, Roberta skewered Patrick with her gaze. “You’re lucky I had Patrick Junior wait in the truck so he didn’t see this. You mind telling me what the hell is going on?”

Once upon a time, Roberta’s accusatory tone would’ve sent him scurrying. When he was seven and she was eighteen.

Pointing at the key she still held in her hand, Patrick returned her glower and said, “That is for emergencies only and you know it.”

Roberta pocketed the key ring quickly and her jaw jutted out. “I tried to call you.”

“You should have knocked!”

“When I saw the other cars I should’ve known something like this was going on.” Her blatantly disgusted tone was both insulting and infuriating. In his peripheral vision, he noted the way Lucy’s shoulders slumped.

“What’s going on is none of your concern.”

“We’ll see,” she muttered as she turned back to the front door. “I’m getting your son from the truck. That should give you time to get decent.” She flicked her gaze at Lucy, wrinkled her nose, and then she was gone.

The three of them grabbed their clothes and dressed in record time.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Lucy couldn’t seem to help the mantra.

Patrick reached out to her to comfort her. He was angered by the distraught look in her eyes. She had no reason to feel that way and Roberta had no call to treat her like a tramp. “Stop, Luce. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I didn’t? She knows everyone at the hospital…professionals who might refer business to me. I’ll be ruined before I’ve even gotten started. Holy hell, what was I thinking?” Her panicked tone told him as much as her words but he could already hear Roberta escorting his son inside.

The happy four-year-old tornado burst into the house and found them in the hallway leading from the bedroom. “Hey, Dad! Lucy! Beck! You’re here!” Patrick had to smile when Patrick Junior launched himself at Lucy and hugged her legs. She looked down at his son as she caressed his cheek and the deep affection she felt for him was in her eyes. She glanced between Patrick and his sister and then to the little boy as she said, “You eat breakfast yet?”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Come on, sweetie. I’ll get you set up with some cereal.”

As Lucy ushered his son into the kitchen, Roberta rounded on Patrick. He didn’t particularly want Beck there for the conversation but he seemed disinclined to absent himself and Patrick really didn’t care what he heard.

“You want to tell me what’s going on here?” Roberta hissed.

“It’s none of your business, sis. I’m a legal adult and not required to explain anything, not even to my big sister.”

Her eyes shot sparks as she glowered at him. “Yes, you’re an adult with a very impressionable child. Wait until Dad hears about this. What is this town coming to? It’s just like Tabitha said.”

“What?” Patrick asked, regretting that he couldn’t keep his voice down. Patrick Junior leaned away from the table so he could look down the hall.

“Tabitha told me she saw you”—she pointed at Beck and then at the kitchen—“necking with her downtown last week, right out in the open. Like everyone would want to see your public display of affection. She wanted me to keep an eye on you, Patrick, because she knew you were close with him.” She pointed at Beck again as though he was the one to blame. “You can’t do this.”

Patrick had heard just about enough. “Can’t do what?”