Lost : The Little Sisters Book One Read online

  She munched quietly at the remains of her cold toast and watched with furtive interest as Jace dug into his plate with relish. Tearing her gaze away, Lucy redirected her interest to stare avidly at her Dad. Patrick, having turned back to his newspapers while he discussed the economy and then sports with Jace, remained oblivious to her unwarranted stare. Jace niftily fielded her dad’s questions and responded simultaneously to Emily’s non-stop chatter. Cat sat there quietly, reading off a thick volume of something to do with the anatomy of the human body, while sipping at her mug of hot chocolate. Mum had taken her place at the opposite end of the breakfast table, only she was chattering too. To no one. Throwing random comments into the air that no one fielded.

  Deciding she’d stared enough at her dad, Lucy did the dutiful thing expected of the eldest child—she tuned in… and out… to mum’s comments, muttering a suitable response every now and again. All the while keeping abreast with the conversation flow between her dad and Jace, while monitoring Emily’s mindless chatter for something alarming, like I love you Jace!

  But try as she might, her gaze seemed to have a will of its own, and despite the confusion of sight and sounds about her, they unerringly landed, from time to time, on the unsuspecting Jace.

  “Are you all right?”

  Unsuspected until then, that is.

  Startled, Lucy looked into Jace’s concerned gaze and felt her already flushed skin take on another rosy blush. She didn’t do blushes. It didn’t go with her tomboy image. Raising a hesitant hand up to her shorn hair, she ducked her head to hide her expression and gave her locks an uncertain rub.

  “I’m fine,” Lucy muttered sheepishly, then dodged her dad’s searching gaze. Patrick Little paused consideringly before exchanging a glance with her mother. At Mary Little’s nod, he reached hesitantly to draw out the envelope that lay all but forgotten on the table. Staring at it long and hard, he handed it, reluctantly yet insistently, over to Lucy.

  “Don’t forget your letter,” reminded Patrick Little.

  “The letter from Knyte,” Lucy murmured worriedly, not liking the look on her father’s face. Why the letter? Lucy had already received and opened her Christmas present from him; it was strange that Knyte would choose to write her a letter after.

  A movement to her side had Lucy turning to catch Jace’s gaze. His wide, brilliant smile effectively concealing the silent questions of his gaze. As her best friend, Jace knew all there was to know about her. Even her history of being half-sired by a famous singer and having lost a twin brother. But she was not ready to be confronted by his questions on this, not when her heart was still racing from his mere proximity. It was all Lucy could do not to run a foul mouth over this unwanted attraction. For three years, she had struggled with this carnal interest in her best friend. Three years of deliberately overlooking his sensual appeal and failing miserably.

  Lucy’s gaze dropped to the envelope, only just noticing the tampered seal.

  “I read it,” said her father, drawing Lucy’s shocked gaze. “It didn’t come alone. There was another with it, addressed to your mother and me. I… I had to see… to be sure.” He trailed off brokenly before abruptly adding. “It’s actually pretty self-explanatory. Read it. But not here. Take it with you.”

  The quiet tone to his words drew her worried gaze. Its purposefully serene tone sparked a familiar fear. One she’d unknowingly carried with her ever since she was of an age to understand… that someone of her unusual looks and colouring could not have been born a Little; at least, not completely. The fear, anger, and resentment that always rose to the surface at that thought bubbled forward again. Deliberately, Lucy drew in a deep breath, drawing on her rigorous training to calm herself back down. This was neither the time nor the place for temper.

  Unwillingly, she reached out for the envelope.

  Lucy had never asked the question about her obvious mixed heritage for the longest time for one obvious reason—she hadn’t wanted to know. But the questions had become more intrusive and more pressing as she grew older. Eventually, at the age of ten, Lucy found she could not put it off anymore. She’d gone to her mother and demanded answers to the question she never wanted to ask, and for the answers she never wanted to hear. Lucy was happy being a Little, and a chink in that bliss couldn’t be tolerated. But that chink happened. Mary Little had told it all then and cried buckets when she did. Lucy had found herself in the awkward position of offering comfort to her mother while hearing the most shocking tale she’d ever heard. But it hadn’t taken long for her temper to rise at the unjust nature of it all and she had taken it all out on her already anguished mother.

  Naturally, her first step after that had been to turn to Jace and spill it all out to him. After a long time venting it out at poor Jace, Lucy had returned to a pile of birthday letters meant for her that had been withheld over the years. Mary Little had seen no need in keeping those hidden anymore and had promptly handed them over. Letters from her real father. Birthday cards. Christmas Cards. Gifts. All unopened.

  At ten years old, Lucy had been too young to be burned by all she’d learned. A father who loved her, whom she’d never met, and a brother lost to her from the very start. It had taken her another two years before she could work up the nerve to rumple up her existence further and open those letters. It had taken her the better part of three months to read through them all and then read through them again, and yet again, before understanding prevailed. She’d read the hurt Knyte Starr suffered at losing her and the loss of her brother. Each year she bled anew for those hurts and resentfully eyed all the new envelopes that arrived, knowing they would contain yet more of those hurts, those regrets, and the burden of those feelings she wanted no part of. She sat there now, eyeing the latest of those envelops balefully; she was not looking forward to starting her holidays on a sad note.

  She slipped the envelope into her pocket, determined to wilfully tear it up at the earliest opportunity without reading it.

  But as soon as, breakfast was over, and they were being rushed out of the kitchen and hastened off to pack, Lucy got caught up in the twins’ excitement over their trip. She forgot about the letter, she forgot about the complications of Emily’s budding feelings for Jace, and she forgot about her own attraction to her irresistible best friend. Instead, Lucy made a dash to her room, and began tugging loose an assortment of sporting equipment that would do well on a beach. Her surfboard was dragged out from under her bed. Her snorkelling gear tugged out from the back of her closet space, the flippers from top of the cupboard, and then she dragged out a bundle of swimwear. All one-piece suits with just the one modest-cut bikini set. Lucy didn’t do skimpy. An assortment of shorts and t-shirts made up the list. Lucy didn’t own a single dress, but she did toss in a pair of trusty fitted jeans, in case they were to head out to eat.

  The discussions at the table had proved her suspicions true. They were to stay at the Neils’ beach house for the long weekend. The Neils owned a luxuriously fitted, yet small, beach house along a stretch of private beach in Torquay, along the Great Ocean Road. The three-bedroom, single-bathroom cottage had been a squeeze for all of them when they had been kids, but was even more so now that they had grown out of kid boots. The rustic charm of the place, while upgraded for modern amenities, had never been overhauled with extensions for space. Aside for the added wing of the sunroom, the lot of them had to make do with sleeping bags and the use of the three available bedrooms.

  “Did you get the sunscreen?” Emily popped her blond head about her door to question. Lucy merely shook her head.

  “Damn it! Why does it always have to be me?”

  “Don’t forget to grab the soap and shampoos too,” called out Lucy, unperturbed. Then shouted after her, “And my toothbrush, as well! I need a new one!”

  But the calming effects of the familiar packing had done its thing. Lucy eased back downstairs to join the rest with her usual placid and sensible self, intact. So that she could face Jace once more with a modicum
of calm and none of the flutter of nerves… or whatever else.

  They hugged their parents and waved farewell before bundling into Jace’s Range Rover Evoque. Soon they were ambling down the slight slope of their short drive and then off across town to the open roads that would take them on to the Neils’ exclusive hold on paradise.

  Lucy’s dad was best friends to the Neils first and the family accountant after, and the kids have been besties for as long as they could remember. Visiting the Neils in the past had always been an adventure—one that was always new and exciting as Jace was their only child and his parents did their mighty best to spoil him rotten at every opportunity.

  Christmas was incredible at the Neils’ home. Every imaginable gift was showered on him. Gifts Jace generously shared with his friends. But the Neils’ efforts in spoiling their son were in vain for Jace had the three Littles to keep him in check, and forever grounded.

  “We’re not stopping by your home, first?” Lucy asked from the back seat as he went past the turning that would have taken them to his home.

  “Nope, we are going straight to the beach house. Mum and Dad are already there. They’ll be there with us for the first two days. After which we’ll have the whole place to ourselves,” he said before lifting his twinkling eyes to meet hers in the rear-view mirror. Lucy stared helplessly back for a moment before she tore hers away with effort and rubbed at the heaviness in her chest.

  Emily had fallen asleep in the front seat. It was a strange affliction whereby she had to fall asleep in a moving car. Her maximum awake time had been faithfully recorded by Cat at thirty minutes. The turnoff to Jace’s was about that long from their home. Emily would remain asleep for most of the journey, giving Cat a chance to talk and share ideas that were her own. A rarity. Usually, Lucy would make a point to draw Cat out at such moments, giving her the chance to talk and be herself. Not overshadowed by Emily, as usual.

  But today, that effort seemed too great. Lucy felt a strange reluctance to talk at all. She found herself ignoring Cat’s solemn staring at the changing landscape as she helplessly trained her attention on her sole and all-absorbing interest—staring with rapt fascination at the back of Jace’s head, the whole way.

  Three hours later, and they had arrived. The beach house was tiny. Having been there many times in the past, it always shocked Lucy to see how much smaller it had gotten with each visit. It was going be a tight squeeze now that they were all older. Jace alone would have them all squashed into a corner.

  At over six feet and loaded with the muscles and brawns needed to play a very rough game of rugby, he looked like every girl’s dream come true. His blond locks were overly longish and unkempt. His blue eyes, playful and yet warm and inviting. And his constant wide grin that bared his milky white teeth, courtesy of a very expensive dentist. Jace came across very unlike what he truly was—an impulsive tease equipped with dark humour.

  “You girls head on in and I’ll bring your bags,” said Jace, with another of his cute, seemingly benign smiles.

  But Lucy knew better; she knew what mischief lurked behind that otherwise attractive grin. She had been the butt of his jokes too often to count, but in a roundabout way perhaps deserving of it for she gave as good as she got. If not two-fold more. With her comparatively diminutive stature, she’d had to double up her effort against him at every turn. It was her competitive streak, willing her to take him on and best him at every turn. Not that she’d ever managed that feat… yet.

  Lucy got her belongings out of the car and chastised her sisters for bickering before moving back to the trunk to help Jace empty the load. She reached out to grab at Emily’s duffel, knowing it would be the heaviest and wanting to spare Jace the trouble of hefting it, not because he couldn’t handle the weight, but because she could.

  A large, warm hand settled over her own. Lucy looked up. Her own whisky-coloured eyes blinking up beneath long dusky lashes at Jace’s grinning cornflower blues. Eyes that narrowed meaningfully, despite the attractive crinkle of amusement at their sides, before he leaned in to whisper huskily in her ears, “I said I got it.”

  The strange sensation rippled through her again. Tension that had dissipated resurged to catch at her breath and hold it against her better judgement. Jace’s grin widened immeasurably and Lucy found herself rapidly in retreat mode as she hastily drew back to gasp a breath before rushing on past him without another word.

  This was clearly going to be a weekend from hell, if she couldn’t get her unfathomable attraction to Jace under control. But, as always, she was not one to back down from a challenge. Jace Neil was getting to be too much trouble than he was worth. It was time she regained the upper hand. Gritting her teeth, Lucy hefted her bag a little higher and moved forward to greet the rest of the Neils, already in the little house.

  Chapter 3

  “Lucy, my dear, how are you?”

  Mrs Josephine Neil called out as she plodded her way to the front door to greet her. Jace had that in common with them—warm and chubby mums who made cuddling into an addiction. Lucy happily sank her thin frame into her embrace.

  But that enthusiasm dimmed instantly as she was pulled out of her warm hug and then all but thrust into Jace’s dad’s enveloping embrace. An embrace that was as always, bone-crushing and to the point of almost suffocating. It was also followed by a heavy pat on her head.

  “Lucy, my dear, have you grown any bigger? Still no hair, I see.” Daniel Neil boomed out at her before shaking his head in disapproval. He thumped at her back mightily, sending the last breath out of her lungs in a wisp so that she had to croak out her response, “Great to see you again, Mr Neil.”

  Then she was being tugged out of Mr Neil’s bear hug and into a gentler version of it. Only this one heated her up, creating that strange yearning sensation again that was equally effective in stealing her breath.

  “Dad,” murmured the husky voice belonging to Jace as he breathed over her, ruffling the tousled strands of her hair. “You were squashing her,” admonished her rescuer Jace, taking the moment to subtlety squeeze her before he too released Lucy with a sure grin.

  Lucy couldn’t help her glare at that. In the short space of his dropping by her house, to their arrival at his place, Jace had taken shameless advantage of invading her personal space at every turn. But to what end? Was he on to her? Did he know she suffered this undeniable attraction to the insufferable man? Was he playing her? Narrowing her eyes knowingly at the playful glint in his, she couldn’t help but believe there was truth to her suspicions.

  Lucy drew in a ragged breath that instantly filled her straining lungs and was happy she was spared from having to respond at all with Emily’s timely outburst,” I’m starving! Is there anything to eat?”

  They all laughed at that; Lucy more so than usual. But her forced laugh seemed to have the desired effect, releasing the strange tension that seemed to grow within her each time she was in Jace’s vicinity. Feeling a little of the usual normalcy return, Lucy drew in a relieved breath which then got caught in her throat as she made the mistake of catching Jace’s knowing grin.

  It had all begun three summers ago, this cat-and-mouse chase between Jace and Lucy. Since her sweet sixteenth, to be exact. When her lips found themselves locked against his in her very first kiss. Her only kiss. That lip-lock had been guilty of many a late-night wet dream. At least it had for her. Jace, however, flitted from blossom to blossom with each change in the season. His interest in her was nothing more than to torment, knowing his effect on her.

  But, no more! As with every year since, her resolution to keep Jace on end and guessing still stood. To her way of thinking, it didn’t matter how much she panted over him. If she wasn’t admitting it, she was safe. Just as with any other game, to admit their mutual attraction is to concede defeat.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, warningly. “Don’t forget my surfboard,” she called back to Jace, as she followed the rest into tiny kitchen space.

  It didn’t make sense; th
e Neils, with all their millions, couldn’t set aside a few grand to extend the place. They certainly splashed out enough in renovating and furnishing it, and it was not as though they didn’t have the land to support it. Sighing inwardly, she plastered the smile expected of her as she settled herself onto the kitchen stool to answer the rudimentary questions about her mum and dad and then respond to the usual reminiscence over the last time they had gotten together there.

  Lucy nodded and murmured all the required responses, doing her duty as the eldest to entertain their hosts while her unsupportive sisters took themselves off immediately to get ready for the beach. Lucy sipped at her orange juice, helped herself to the light repast of sandwiches and smiled tightly. The knowledge that Jace was around lay at the back of her mind and was, as always, haunting. Lucy rubbed absently at the goosebumps that covered her skin.

  A laugh at her back told her that Jace was not unaware of her problem.

  “Mummy, you’re hogging our guest,” he chided gently. “We want to get down to the beach. Lucy still has to prove to me she hasn’t gone all girly on me this last winter and forgotten how to surf.”

  Lucy gritted her teeth in affront and turned to bare it in a half snarl. Like always, just when she did lean towards being at all girly around him, he challenged her back into her usual tomboyish ways. It sometimes served as a relief, snubbing her burgeoning feelings for him in bud, and at other times—like the present—it just irked her into losing her temper. Manners forgotten, Lucy bounded to her feet to turn on him.

  “You’re on!” She declared, before turning towards his bedroom, which they all shared when they stayed there. She was happy to go in as is, but she knew from experience, the water would soak through her t-shirt and reveal way more than she was willing to put on display.