The Screw Ball (Indianapolis Lightning Book 3) by Samantha Lind (the lemonade war series .TXT) 📕

sore, but oh so worth it. Lucas’s stamina puts mine to shame. I don’t know how I’ll ever keep up with him.

Much like at home, I reach for my phone. I stiffen at the number of notifications on my home screen. I quickly unlock my phone and sit up in bed. Once my phone is unlocked, I go to my texts, first, as I have a large number of those, mostly from Carly.

Carly: Ummm not to alarm you but call me ASAP.

Carly: Carmen, I know you’re on vacation, probably sexing it up with that sexy man of yours but CALL ME!

Carly: Fine, just check social media. I’ll wait for you to come up for air to tell me what you want me to do.

Carly: Seriously, how much sex can the two of you be having? Pictures of you two on the beach and on the dance floor from last night are EVERYWHERE. Hope you weren’t trying to keep this a secret after this trip.

Carly: At least nothing bad is being said, everything so far has been positive, so that’s a plus!

“Shit!” I say.

“What’s wrong?” Lucas stirs next to me, rolling over to face me. He rubs his sleep-filled eyes before pushing up to sit with his back against the headboard. I can’t help but take in the scrape marks my nails left in his skin last night. Oops.

“Well, we’re public now,” I tell him, turning my phone so he can see the string of texts from Carly.

“And that’s a bad thing?” he asks, quirking his brow at me.

“No, I just kind of figured we’d get to announce it on our own. I should have been thinking ahead that this place might be a private resort, but that doesn’t mean that we’ve got complete privacy.”

He grabs his own phone from the nightstand, unlocking it and tapping on the screen a few times. “What are you doing?” I ask, just as my own phone pings in my hands. I look down and see that he’s tagged me on his Instagram and Twitter profiles. I open the notification and see that he’s posted the picture he took of us last night while we were on the walk. The one that I instantly fell in love with.

I read over the caption twice, the words melting my heart just a little bit more. Enjoying paradise with my love. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, I’m off the market and couldn’t be happier. Love you, Red.

“Really, you had to call me Red?” I ask, quirking a brow at him.

“No one knows why I call you that.” He smirks, and I can feel myself blush. He leans over and kisses me; morning breath be dammed.

I pull away, knowing that I need to at least reply to Carly. Bless her for trying to warn me and take care of things for me.

Carmen: Sorry for missing all of your texts! I don’t know why I didn’t think ahead to this happening, but we’re rolling with it. Go look at Lucas’s Instagram. He just made an announcement on his page. Kinda sweet if you ask me. {winky face} I guess I’ll keep him.

Carly: Damn, girl! You guys look so happy. And DAMN! That look he’s giving you says he could eat you alive. That man is S-E-X on legs. You are one lucky woman.

Carmen: I won’t argue with that. Thanks again for everything! I’m going to go back to being on vacation mode. Let me know if anything else happens.

Carly: Will do! Bring some of that sunshine back to me! I desperately need it!

I click over to my social media pages, checking to make sure that nothing bad is being said. Some of the comments aren’t always the nicest. It amazes me how some women will tear down other women in the comments when guys post pictures of their girlfriends or wives. So much for women supporting women. I know that I can’t let their petty comments get to me. They don’t know me, hell, they don’t even really know Lucas, they just think they do. Before closing out, I decided to post the same picture to my own page, tagging him back in it. I don’t quite copy his caption word for word, but the sentiment is there.

Nineteen

Lucas

I look out the window, the snow-covered ground greets us as we touch down, back home from a week away in paradise. The vacation was a much-needed time away. It solidified my feelings for Carmen, hell, I told her that I loved her, and we made our relationship public.

“Where are we going tonight?” I ask as the plane rolls toward the gate.

“I’m not super picky,” she says, and the idea starts forming in my mind that maybe we should broach the subject of moving in together. We spend most nights with each other as it is, then the week together has me realizing that I don’t want to be away from her at night. I’ve grown accustomed to having her in my arms in bed. Waking up with her every morning. I don’t know that I can go back to not having that.

We grab our things, walking off the plane and out to my car. We both packed fairly light, only taking a suitcase each that could fit in the overhead bin. It wasn’t like we needed much for clothing. We spent most of the time in bathing suits or shorts and tank tops.

I drive us to my condo, both of us making our way upstairs quietly. I think we’re both tired after traveling today, plus all the fun we packed into the last few days. Not to mention, just how tired you can actually come back from vacation. It’s late by the time we get here, the darkness settling in all around us.

“I’m going to take a quick shower before bed. I still feel all grimy from the morning on the beach followed by the flight,” Carmen says. I watch as she grabs some clean panties and one of