Hello lovely readers. Hope you're enjoying the story so far. Thank you to those of you who left their comments and appreciation. Please be advised that this is only a two part story. I know it may seem short to some but hopefully you will still like it :)

P.S. I will be posting a short story for Girl Meets World but this one will be rated M due to its contents.

x x x

Chapter 2

Kissing Riley was like coming home…only better, because his empty house didn't welcome him the way she did, with an instant melting against him, the warmth of her palms holding his wrists, the spicy sweet taste of her lips moving, giving under his. He could have stood in the rain with her forever.

Except that she was pulling away. He lifted his head to look at her and found her eyes closed, her smile dreamy. "Lucas." He'd never heard his name sighed that way before, wanted to hear it over and over again. Then she opened her eyes. "I have to go. It's not surgery." She smiled, wistfully. "But people do count on me."

A sudden clutch in his gut protested. But commitment was a characteristic he respected. And this was a woman he'd come to care about too much to dishonor. "I know." He stepped back, set her free. "Can I see you sometime this week? I don't know my schedule, but…" Like he ever had free time during the week for something as ordinary, as sociable, as a date.

Riley smiled at him over her shoulder as she unlocked her car. "Oh, I imagine we'll run into each other. After all, this is a really small town."

x x x

They next ran into each other on his staircase, as Lucas was using his last ounce of energy climbing up and Riley was skipping down. He gazed up at her, sniffing the air. "Is that paint I smell?"

She stopped, blocking his way. "Paint, it is. Top quality latex."

Lucas had liked the white walls. After a day of chaos at the hospital — a day like this one where it seemed everything had gone wrong — white was quiet. Soothing. He came to the step just below the one on which Riley stood, but when he edged to the right, so did she. "You didn't tell me you were going to paint."

"You didn't ask." When Lucas stepped to her left, she followed.

Hands on his hips, he frowned. "What color?"

"Which room?"

"You're painting all the rooms different colors?" He swallowed hard. "And the bathrooms?"

"Paper."

Worse and worse. Visions of his mother's flower-covered walls assailed him. Again, he tried to move past her. Again, Riley blocked. "Please, let me by," he said through clenched jaws, barely remembering his manners. "I want to see what you're doing."

"Why don't you wait until it's done and get the whole effect?"

"Because it doesn't make sense to have you do something, pay for everything, and then have to do it over when I hate it. I'd rather stop this process as early as possible."

"Whoa." The woman above him backed up a step. "What happened to trusting me?"

He had said that. And meant it. But tonight, he just couldn't take the chance.

"What happened to making things comfortable without any major changes?" he retorted.

There was no doubt he'd roused her temper. She had her chin up in the air and her eyes were hard. "Your family will appreciate these changes."

"My family will be here three nights. I live here all the time. If I'd wanted the walls all sorts of wild colors, I would have had them painted that way."

Riley jammed her hands in the pockets of her overalls. "Excuse me, but that's not quite the impression you gave me of the way you finished this house." When Lucas opened his mouth, she shook her head. "Never mind. Feel free to go up and make your judgment. If you hate it, tell the guys to paint over the color and charge the paint to me. I wouldn't stick you with a room you didn't like any more than I would a meal you couldn't eat. Good night." Brushing past him, she hurried down the stairs. The slam of the front door rattled the windows in every room.

Lucas ran his hands over his face and through his hair. Then, wearily, he climbed the rest of the way to the second floor to see what disaster awaited him there.

The room at the top had two walls painted a soft green, lighter than the chair fabric he'd chosen, but in the same shade. With the woodwork left white, he had to admit the effect was cool, crisp. Pleasant. There were no flowers in the bathroom, just a pale green, marble-patterned paper with rolls of a Greek key border waiting to be installed.

So it went. As he viewed each bedroom, Lucas found a variation of paint against which his green chair looked…well, great. Soft gold, a light brown. The most unusual color was orange — not a harsh or bright tone, just a moment pulled from a cozy blaze in the fireplace and expanded to glow on the walls. He felt warm and comfortable, standing there in the half-painted room.

At the same time, he felt like an absolute jerk. A heel. An ungrateful, stupid, ill-natured boor.

And there was nobody in the house to tell him he was wrong.

Riley turned her answering machine off and refused to answer the first six calls that rang after she got home. She didn't want to talk to anyone on the entire planet, not even Chris Evans. Didn't need any more work. Didn't want any more friends. Just expected to sit on the couch with a pint of Häagen Dazs and eat until her teeth froze and her brain exploded.

"When?" she asked herself. "When will I learn?" All her life, she'd been smart, fast, organized. And bossy. How many times had she heard that from teachers, from other girls? From boys? And when would she stop expecting to find a man who actually appreciated her talent for getting things done?

Today might just be the day. Lucas Friar had accomplished what no man had done before. He'd shut Riley Matthews up.

A pint of Häagen Dazs didn't last long enough for this kind of pain, and Riley realized she would have to go out for more. She set the carton on the counter top and was dragging on her jacket, debating between French Vanilla and Bailey's Irish Cream, when the phone rang again.

"'Hello?" Then she remembered, and swore.

"Riley, it's Lucas. Don't hang up." The words reached her even as she aimed the receiver at its hook. "Please, let me apologize."

She brought the phone back to her ear long enough to say, "Don't bother." Then, for some reason, she didn't hang up, but stood there like a fool, one arm in her coat and one out. Waiting.

"Listen, Riley, I was wrong. Totally, miserably wrong." He sounded breathless, frantic. "I looked at the rooms upstairs and the colors are great. Perfect. I wouldn't change one, and the bathroom papers are fantastic, too. I'm really sorry I acted like such a…a…"

"Would you like me to supply the word?"

"I'm sure you could. Let's just take it as already said." She heard the smile in his voice. "My only excuse is that I had a really bad day. A patient died during surgery. Not my case but, still, it throws everybody."

Immediately, she felt horrible. "Oh, Lucas, I'm so sorry. Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't give myself a chance, did I? Instead, I jumped down your throat and made everything worse. But if you'll forgive me, that'll help."

How could she refuse? "Of course. Do you want me to keep going? It's up to you."

"Definitely." No doubt at all. "And I want to make up to you for being a jerk."

Riley smiled, the ice cream forgotten. "How do you propose to do that?"

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you?" Lucas now sounded his usual, in-control self. "Just meet me here at eight Friday night. I guarantee an evening you won't forget!"

x x x

Wearing a silk dress and sexy heels, Riley arrived at eight p.m. on Friday to find Lucas' house dark and apparently empty. She waited in her car for a few minutes, thinking he might be running late. Then she wondered if he expected her to let herself in with her key. He might even be planning to spring some kind of surprise when she did.

No surprise. No Lucas. Just the chill and the dark and the smell of fresh paint met her at the front door.

She turned on the lights in the family room — she'd placed two floor lamps and another table, with the right lamp to set on it, by the sofas. She sat in an armchair for a while, staring at the blank television. The apples smelled good, and Riley finally acknowledged how hungry she was.

In the refrigerator, she found hints of Lucas' plans, including chicken breasts, a bottle of white wine, fresh broccoli, and fresh pasta. The thought of what she could do with those ingredients made her mouth water and her stomach growl.

But tonight she would not take charge. She would let Lucas keep control.

By nine-thirty, she was ready to weep with hunger. He hadn't called and she didn't know how to contact him, except through the answering service, which wouldn't give her any information except to say he wasn't on call tonight. Great. So where was he?

At ten, she consigned his male ego and his desire for control to hell. First, she turned on the gas igniter in the fireplace and set the logs to blazing. Then, she pounded the chicken breasts thin, dredged them in flour, and set about making chicken Piccata with the lemons and capers she found in the fridge. Great minds think alike.

Just as she was stirring the sauce, lights flashed outside and the garage door lifted. In another moment, Lucas came into the house. He closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, staring at Riley with an expression very close to despair.

"Smells good," he said quietly. And then, "I am so sorry. I'd have called, but I was in surgery the whole time."

Riley looked at him a moment, and her irritation bled away. "It's okay. Why don't you get out of your scrubs while I dish this up, and we can eat in front of the fireplace?"

Lucas squeezed his eyes shut. "Sounds great. I —" But then he opened his eyes, shook his head, and went to his room without finishing the thought.

When he came out again, the plates were set on the coffee table, with glasses of wine waiting and a music Riley liked playing softly. "I have no idea what kind of music you enjoy," she said as they sat on the floor opposite each other. "Is this okay?"

"I haven't had much time for music. But this is good." He took a bite of chicken. "Mmm. So's this." He toasted her with his wine. "How is it you always end up taking care of me? I really meant to do the honors tonight."

"You take care of animals and their owners all day long."

"You feed people all day long."

"Not the same level of pressure as surgery."

"Sometimes being fed is more important."

"Give it up, Dr. Friar. I'm not going to let you take the blame. Just eat your dinner."

"Yes, ma'am."

She wouldn't let him clean up afterward, either. With the dishes in the dishwasher, she brought the wine bottle out, refilled their glasses, then turned off the lamps and curled up on the couch where she could watch Lucas, still on the floor, and the fire. "Thank you for a lovely dinner. Consider yourself cleared of all obligation."

"You cooked, cleaned up, and waited two hours to begin with."

Riley shrugged. "I'm a take-charge kind of person. Being waited on really doesn't suit me."

Lucas pushed himself up off the floor and onto the opposite sofa, bracing his elbows on his thighs as he held his wineglass in both hands. "What does suit you?"

The answer slipped out before she could stop it. "Being needed."

"Yeah?" He moved to her couch, setting his glass on the table. "What else?" The fire flickered over his face, striking green sparks deep in his eyes.

"Um…being comfortable."

Reaching out, he slipped off her shoes. "Better?"

Riley smiled and wiggled her toes. "Much."

"Anything else?"

Staring into her wine, she debated asking That I want you to take off? but decided she wasn't brave enough to be quite that blunt. She risked a quick glance at the man next to her. "That suits me?"

"Well?"

His hand still rested on her ankle, his fingers circling lightly on her skin. The tremor caused by his touch streaked straight up her leg and set off an earthquake deep inside of her.

"To be wanted," Riley said, barely above a whisper.

He took the wine goblet from her shaky fingers and set it beside his on the table. "So, there are a few things I can do for you, after all." His fingers tilted her face up. His mouth touched the point of her chin, grazed the line of her cheek, placed a kiss on each eyelid. "I've wanted you from that first night," he said softly, skimming his fingers, then his lips, over her ear. "You were like a candle coming into my darkness, leaving warmth and light behind even when you weren't here."

His kisses, light as they were, pressed her back into the soft leather sofa. She raised her hands to grip his shoulders, bring him closer, but Lucas held back. "Are you warm enough? Too warm?" He set his mouth to her throat, nibbled lightly.

"Lucas…" She was losing the ability to think.

"You're the first thing that comes to my mind in the morning when I wake up." He ran his fingers along the edge of her dress, over the sensitive skin of her shoulders, the tops of her breasts. "Seems like you're the sunshine that starts my day." He followed the trail of his fingers with his lips. "I need that thought of you to get me going."

Crazy with her own need, Riley pulled his face to hers, seized his mouth for a breathless eternity of kisses. She let her hands roam freely, as his were, and soon they lay together with no barriers at all, except a desire to prolong the pleasure as long as possible. Finally, Lucas settled over her, joining their bodies with a deliberation that drove her even wilder.

Then he lifted his head to look into her eyes, his own glinting with a smile. "Are you okay? Comfortable enough?"

"I'm going to kill you." Riley adjusted her hips with a move that made him groan.

"You know, lady," he said breathlessly, "I think you might be right."

x x x

Thanksgiving drew near and the pace of Riley's life accelerated from busy to frantic. She'd always been an early riser, but when she stayed over at Lucas' — which happened more often than not — she got up an hour earlier than her regular six a.m. That meant she got more cooking done before the stores opened at ten.

But the house was almost finished. And she knew Lucas was pleased with what she'd done. Pleased to see that his guest rooms provided a quiet elegance with which he felt comfortable. Pleased that his family room offered welcome and comfort — to him and anyone else who came in — with accents of color, contrasts of texture, and simple luxuries.

Most of all, maybe, pleased that his kitchen had become a functional place, with food in the pantry and the refrigerator and, most nights, dinner on the table when he finally got home. She managed to be there at some point in the afternoon or evening and, even if she couldn't stay, to leave him something to eat. The extra cooking put more strain on her hectic schedule, but taking care of Lucas was a pleasure well worth the effort.

The weekend before the big day, she decided to invite Lucas to join her and her family for a get together to introduce him to the rest of her family. He had two days off from the hospital, plenty of time for them to get to know each other more. Late Friday afternoon, she went to Lucas', prepared to offer homemade lasagna and her invitation when he walked in the door.

Predictably, he still wasn't there by nine, so she cut herself a piece of lasagna, then curled up on the sofa under the tapestry throw to watch the fire and wait.

Warm, cozy, she dreamed that Lucas was bending over her, his smile wide and sexy as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Hey, beautiful. Where've you been all my life?"

She smiled and kissed him back, and then realized with pleasure that it was real. He'd come home.

Stretching, she reached up to put her arms around him. "Mmmm. What time is it?"

"Midnight." His gaze dropped. He straightened up out of her hold. "What are you still doing here? Did we make any plans that I forgot about?"

"Don't worry, you didn't forget anything. I actually wanted to invite you this weekend."

"This weekend? To where?"

Riley turned her sweet face toward him. "To my family's get together."

Lucas sneezed, and sneezed again. "N-no, thanks."

"Are you getting a cold? And what do you mean, 'No, thanks'?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. I mean we just started seeing each other. Don't you think it's too soon for me to meet your entire family?" He backed around the coffee table to the other sofa.

"If you're worried about my family interrogating you, you really shouldn't. My family are nice people."

"I'm sure they are. But I really don't think that meeting them at this stage is a good idea."

She grappled frantically for a solution. "How about you just stop by on Sunday? You don't have to stay long."

Lucas ran a hand over his face. "Look, I appreciate the invite — though it would have been better if you'd asked me first, and saved us both the hassle." He dropped down on the couch and put his head back. "Man, what a day."

Hassle. That meant she'd done it again. Evidently, she never would learn not to be bossy.

"Riley?" Lucas was on his feet again, staring at her across the vast expanse of his family room and kitchen.

The space was friendly now, and inviting, with the fire crackling cheerfully, the lamplight glinting on gold and gray and green accents, the scent of cider spicing the air. His family would know how good his life could be here in New York. And they'd never know that she had expected to be part of it.

"I have to go." She opened the door and hurried outside, trying to hold back her tears.

What he'd just said, essentially, was that she had no more of a role in his life. He hadn't used the L word yet. And Riley had been waiting on him, trying, for once, not to control the situation. Trying to let Lucas take the lead.

Good thing. This would hurt much worse if she'd told him she loved him.

On the other hand, she wasn't sure it could hurt any worse.

The only thing Lucas knew for sure was that he had no clue. Riley had invited him to meet her entire family and when he didn't want it, she'd cut off all communication. He had some experience with women, though he didn't think of himself as Cassanova. Still, this was the strangest situation he'd ever encountered.

To make matters worse, he didn't have time to do anything about it. The guy who was on call on Sunday came down with the flu Saturday afternoon and begged Lucas to take over. So he spent Sunday in the hospital before beginning the regular workweek. People didn't much like seeing doctors in the days before Thanksgiving, so he made it home most nights by eight.

But Riley wouldn't answer the phone, at work or at home. The finishing touches for the house magically appeared during the day, but she wasn't waiting for him anymore, with her warm smile and her hot kisses and her generous soul. How was he supposed to get through a week without waking up with Riley in his arms?

Wednesday night, he came in to discover a mouthwatering aroma in the air, compliments of the pies on the counter — pumpkin, pecan, and mincemeat, just as he'd ordered.

Thursday morning, he went in for rounds at seven a.m., knowing no surgeries had been scheduled for the holiday. His family would be arriving about two. He should be home in plenty of time to talk with Riley and get this whole mess straightened out before they arrived. He really wanted his family to meet her.

When Riley arrived at ten on Thanksgiving morning to find Lucas' house empty, she drew a huge sigh of relief. As long as they weren't alone together, she could function as simply the hired help. She'd make dinner, be polite to his family, and then she'd never have to see him again. Him or his beautiful home.

The turkey went into the oven at noon, and Lucas hadn't shown up. She started on her special green bean casserole, peeled the potatoes, and put them in the pot, and he still hadn't arrived. Two o'clock drew ever closer. Lucas didn't come home.

Just as she set the yeast dough to rise for the first time, the front doorbell rang. With no other choice, she smoothed her hair, took off her apron, and prepared to face the Friar family. Alone.

She opened the door. Standing on the porch was an assortment of adults, while a couple of little boys raced around the front lawn.

Riley swallowed hard and called up some kind of smile. "Hi. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Friar." She searched for the oldest faces. "I'm Riley Matthews. Please, come in."

As Mrs. Friar stepped inside, Riley realized that Lucas looked like his mother. The same bone structure, the same deep-set emerald eyes, which were surveying her now with outright suspicion. "Where is Lucas?"

"Where do you think he is, Dorothy?" Mr. Friar came in behind his wife, an approachable man with dark hair and twinkling eyes. "Where he always is — at work." He held out a hand. "I'm Jeff Friar, Ms. Matthews. Good to meet you." His grin was like Lucas', definitely sexy even in his rounder face. "This is my father, Joe and that's our daughter, Sophia, with her husband, Matt. Those hooligans outside are Jason and Joshua."

"I'm pleased to meet all of you." Riley held on to her poise by a thread. "Lucas is still at the hospital — there was an accident at the animal shelter this morning and I imagine he's been called in to operate. But I'll make you as comfortable as I can. Would you like to go to your rooms for a bit? And then I'll serve some appetizers while we wait for Lucas to get here."

With Mrs. Friar's assent, they went upstairs. Riley showed them to the rooms she'd thought they would like, and was gratified to hear murmurs of appreciation up and down the hall. Okay, she'd gotten that part right. Now, all she had to do was survive the rest of the afternoon.

Lucas drove home at six-thirty in a state of exhaustion coupled with dread. No woman would forgive a man who put her in the position he'd left Riley facing today — welcoming strangers to a house where she had no real place or authority.

That wasn't true, of course. Riley was the heart of his home, the soul of his life. If he hadn't realized that truth before, these past days without her would have done it. Today had brought him, once again, up against life or death choices and the realization of how precious time can be. There might never be enough.

As he came in from the garage, he was surprised to hear his father's roar of laughter in the dining room. Baffled by sounds of celebration where he'd expected chilly silence, Lucas stopped in the doorway to survey the scene.

His family was clearly enjoying its collective self. His grandfather, sister and husband looked comfortable. He didn't see the nephews at first, but a quick glance into the family room found them playing some kind of video game on his new TV.

Riley had joined them at the dining room table, her face flushed with effort and pleasure and, maybe, a glass of wine. She seemed perfectly at ease with his dad and his family. No one was ever at ease with Dorothy Friar, but as far as he could tell, Riley appeared to have made a truce.

Of course she had. She was too gracious, too generous, not to have charmed even his mother.

Lucas cleared his throat. "Hi, everybody. Sorry I'm late."

Chairs scraped the floor as they all surged around him for hugs. The chaos finally subsided when his mother filled his plate with her own hands and set it before him, along with a full glass of wine. Since he hadn't eaten since dawn, Lucas was glad to dig in. As he looked around before that first bite, however, he found one face missing.

"Where's Riley?" They all looked puzzled — no one had seen her leave. Lucas got to his feet again. "Excuse me a minute." His mother protested, but he waved her back. He would not let the woman he loved get away this time.

He found her standing on the driveway staring at her car, blocked at the rear by his dad's SUV and on the side by his truck. She would have to drive on the grass to get out. And Riley wasn't the kind to drive on the grass.

"Where are you going?" he asked quietly, coming up behind her in the chilly darkness.

"I left the kitchen clean," she said, without facing him. "You'll just need to put the dishes in to wash and store the leftovers."

Lucas smiled. "But isn't that part of what I hired you to do?"

"Well, I'm sorry." She faced him, then, and he could see her temper had flared. "I wasn't supposed to have to entertain people all afternoon as well as cook. I thought the least you could do was clean up, but if that's too much…" Marching past him, she headed toward the house.

"Riley." He caught her arm, pulled her up against him and heard her gasp. "I'm apologizing again. I'm not sure exactly what for, though. I mean…why did you get so upset about me turning down your invitation?"

With surprising strength, she tried to pull away. "Because it's more than an invitation, idiot! My family are important to me as you are. Is that too hard to understand?"

But Lucas didn't let her go. And, after a minute of concentrated thought, he began to see. He'd told her that it's too early for him to meet her family. Which meant… "Boy, did I blow it." Chuckling, he put his arms around her stiff shoulders. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I was too tired to think straight."

"It's fine. Can you please move your truck?" Though she didn't look up, she'd softened in his arms.

"I'm not moving the truck. Look, we need to talk." He lifted her chin so he could see her beautiful brown eyes. "I'm really sorry. You're right I'm an idiot. You worked really hard so my family can be comfortable and enjoy Thanksgiving and I can't even attend your family's get together. "

"Lucas…" Riley stopped, and dropped her gaze. He simply held her, waiting. Drawing a deep breath, she met his eyes. "I love you."

"Yeah? What took you so long?"

Finally, that wonderful smile warmed her face. "I was waiting for you, of course."

"That's something you'll be doing a lot of, I guess. I can't seem to show up on time." Then he lowered his head, kissed her softly once, and again. "But never again for this. I love you, Riley Matthews. Today and always." They shared a real kiss, then, the kind he'd ached for in the long, lonely nights just past. When he raised his head, they were both breathing hard. "Let's go in and introduce my mother to the future Mrs. Friar."

Halfway up the steps, Riley stopped and tugged on his hand. "That's really neat, you know."

"What?"

"I'll be Riley Friar."

He bent down for another kiss. "I like the idea, myself."

She gave him the kiss, but then shook her head. "No, I mean I'll be Riley Friar…of Surprising Delights, Inc. Perfect, isn't it?"

Lucas grinned. "Whatever you think, love. You're the boss."

The End