Author: Regency

Title: I Dare You

Characters: Tracy, Luke

Summary: Tracy dares Luke to be the husband that lasts.

Disclaimer: If owned them one of them would be in rehab.

Author’s Notes: If you have an even marginally smutty line there will be no confusion in the end.

~~~

“I dare you to stay,” she challenged him with her head on his shoulder. He was rubbing her shoulders to keep her warm in the prime of winter and some time ago she’d given in to the embrace he offered.

“What do you mean, darlin’?” He rubbed his cheek against hers and delighted inwardly at her contented sigh. It wasn’t often that he got the chance to hold her--no anger or resentment, just quiet. He kissed her jaw, lightly. They needed more days like this.

“I mean, I dare you to stay with me.” She looked back him, all seriousness. “For once, just stay.”

He began to panic. This was the sort thing he feared, settling down in one place. It wasn’t him. He needed the freedom to run. Like ferocity, it was in his blood. Like loyalty and love.

His wife rolled her disappointed eyes and stepped out of his arms. “I’m not being unrealistic, Luke. I know exactly what you’re like. You can’t stay; I get that. Just one time, though, I’d like to not look like the fool that can’t let you go.” She smoothed her coat, calmly, and folded her arms in front of her.

“If I was any other man, I’d gladly spend everyday making you crazy.”

“Ha!” she laughed. “You make me crazy, all right.”

He shrugged, shoving his hands in those ever present jean pockets. “It’s a gift.” He sidled up behind her again. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He rested his hands on her arms, massaging tiny circles into the indigo fabric. He loved her in this one. It brought out her smile.

“I sincerely doubt that, husband.” She turned to look at him, barriers firmly built and impenetrable to him. “I’m going to bed.” She swallowed; maybe tears, maybe pride. He closed his eyes as she caressed his cheek, lovingly. “It was good of you to stop by.”

He nearly crumpled as she swept by him, her side brushing his own and imprinting him, as always, with her imperfect image.

“I love you, wife,” he declared to her retreating back. He listened and heard her stalking footsteps suddenly cease.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Then, those infamous steps began again and faded.

For several minutes after her retreat, he stood in the dead of winter and let it fuel him. If it was rage, it was ineffective. If it was passion, it was of another kind, a kind he’d never felt. He was torn. He knew he’d never stay forever, but if he could give her one night, be her husband for one night…maybe he could save this union. It had come to mean the world to him.

He walked over the heavy weather-beaten stones and stared up at where Tracy’s bedroom should’ve been. It was a room he’d never shared with her, and more than a year in, he regretted few things more than that.

He cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “Tracy!” The light, though on, remained undisturbed by the silhouette he wanted to see. “Tracy! Oh, Fair Juliet,” he sang. He was sure he’d heard a haughty laugh from somewhere above his head.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that,” she answered farther from the right than he’d expected. She was looking at down at him from the balcony, flushed with some kind amusement.

“Hello, Wife. Wasn’t expecting to see you there.” He made a show of tipping his nonexistent hat.

“I wouldn’t think so. However, if my brother sees you there, he may believe you’re making passes at Monica. I’d move.”

Luke wasn’t afraid of Alan by any means, but he knew the man was a legend for jealousy and didn’t see anything to be gained by provoking him. So, he shifted a few yards over.

He saw that Tracy wasn’t exactly smiling now. “What do you want, Luke?” She looked at her watch quickly. “Isn’t your flight leaving soon?”

He made some noncommittal gesture. “It’s not exactly going anywhere without me, now is it?”

She turned up her palms, surrendering to whatever she didn’t know today. “I wouldn’t know.”

He exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not leaving anyway.”

She stood away from the banister, so that he had to stand even farther away to see her. “Why not?”

“I’m thinking I’d like to try this husband thing for a while.”

She took a couple of small steps closer to the balustrade. “For how long?”

“Just until I can convince my wife to come with me on an adventure or two. You think she‘d consider it?”

“I think she could be made amenable to that.” Setting herself at the edge of the ledge, she peeked down at her husband. “Maybe we should discuss it at length. It’s still early.”

“Sounds good.” He rubbed his hands together. Good god, it was cold. “Your room?”

She tightened her robe around her, hiding a rather generous view of her chest. If he could say anything for her taste in sleepwear, it was complimentary. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll be there.” He vanished into the Quartermaine homestead and made record time up the stairs. After a rather confusing moment with Monica, he found Tracy sitting on her bed. She was laughing, still clutching her silken robe shut.

“That must’ve been fun,” she teased.

“Not as much fun as I hope our meeting will be.” He wiggled his brows, suggestively.

She released the folds of her robe, raising her shoulders. His mouth dropped open.

Unassuming, stunning, dangerous, and sultry. He was in deeper than he thought.

The mattress surrendered under their combined weight as he wrapped himself around his victorious better half. He wasn’t leaving tonight, and probably not for a while. Things were most definitely looking up.

“How long are you staying,” she asked as he was preoccupied with removing her from the negligee she was wearing. Frustrated, he finally just ripped it open. He gave a semi-apologetic shrug. He surrendered all pretenses of that when he saw what waited beneath.

“I’m thinking July.” He kissed the vague indentions of her sternum, glorifying the most uncommonly beautiful things about her body. “How do you feel about Argentina?”

“Not bad. I just had somewhere further south in mind.”

He was tracing the imaginary line from her throat to her navel. He lifted his head and saw her smirk. “South?”

She nodded. “South.”

He smirked again, in his element. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”