Page 33 of Fast Currents
She seemed to consider my offer, her eyes clouded with something I couldn’t name. “How about we buy some ice cream and take it back to my place?” she offered instead. “We need to talk.”
And apparently that talk required frozen dairy to ease the blow. My chest tightened. Was she dumping me already?
I’d been trying not to push, trying to play it cool. To let her come to me. But, god, I wanted her to choose me. To prove I wasn’t the only one falling deeper every day.
The wait was killing me.
Something was going on behind her beautiful brown eyes. A calculation, a decision. I wasn’t sure what she wanted to tell me, but I already knew it would wreck me if she walked away.
“My place is closer to the store – less time for our ice cream to melt. Would you like to see it?”
I took it as a good sign when she nodded. We picked out a couple of pints of ice cream at the market, and I drove to my rental house. It was a tiny craftsman, but just what I needed. I found a perfect spot, close to town, yet conveniently beyond ferry line traffic.
Lucy laughed when I pulled into the driveway. “Robertson, you’ve decorated for Halloween already?” She chuckled. “I never pictured you as the guy who’d have a fully-decked house.”
“Proof that you don’t know everything about me yet, Luce. I love decorating for the holidays. This is only a taste. You just wait for Christmas.”
I’d trimmed the eaves in purple and orange twinkle lights. My yard was tiny, but that hadn’t stopped me from filling it with life-size skeletons posed in silly scenes.
She giggled, some of the tension leaching from her stiff shoulders. “The skeleton taking a bath in the cauldron cracks me up.”
“Good.” I grinned, extending my hand for hers as we approached my front door. “Then I’ve done my job.”
“You definitely understood the assignment.”
A rush of nerves sent prickles down my spine as I flipped on the light, illuminating my living room. My furniture was nothing fancy. I sold most of the big stuff from the house I shared with Jen when I left Denver, packing what I couldn’t part with into a U-Haul for the drive west.
I’d kept a comfortable couch, a dresser, and most of the kitchenware, choosing to buy a new bed, two-person dining set, and easy chairs when I reached Anacortes.
Lucy wandered the small space, zeroing in on the leather notebook I’d left on my coffee table. “Is this your famed journal?” She stroked the blue leather with one finger.
I froze. I was used to living alone, so it hadn’t occurred to me that my home might reveal some secrets I wasn’t ready to share.I’d promised to let her read the page from the day we met. But she wasn’t ready. And neither was I.
I scooped it up, tucking it behind my back like a second-grader hiding a bad report card.
“You hide that like it’s a creepy shrine to my greatness,” she teased.
“Gotta keep the mystery alive.” I winked, then added, “And protect your ego from all the pages where I complain about your sharp tongue.”
I ducked into the bedroom and shoved the journal into my sock drawer. Later, I could write about what a coward I was, but for now, I just needed the thing out of sight.
When I came back, Lucy was dipping her spoon into her ice cream. She grinned guiltily up at me. “I started without you.”
“I’ll allow it,” I said magnanimously.
We ate in silence for a few minutes. “Want a bite?” I offered, extending a spoonful of Rocky Road.
She wrinkled her nose. “No nuts for me.”
“Wow, coming for my whole personality, huh?” She shook her head, dropping her chin to her chest. “Kidding. I’m kidding.”
“Are you ever serious, Robertson?”
She sounded exasperated, and I couldn’t blame her. Using humor as a defense mechanism was a tried-and-true coping mechanism for me. I held her gaze. “Only when it comes to you.” Taking a deep breath, I forced out the words that lurked in the background, eating at my soul. “What did you want to talk about?”
Chapter 15 – Lucy
The humor slipped away, leaving his expression open and unguarded. That was the part that undid me. Not the flirtation or the sexy grins, but the way he let me steer. Gently. Consistently. No pressure.
