Page 40 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
“That’s crazy. He’s not a dork.” Lucian was quirky, eccentric, and kind of accident prone, judging by the bee… and the fire… and tripping over and drenching him in beer…
“Oh, I think he is, but he’s super cute, too. And very young.”
Arlo’s shoulders stiffened. Had he imagined a change in her tone?
“It must be hard being away from home at that age—”
“He’s twenty-four.” Arlo’s lips tightened into a thin line.
“Is he? Well, that is young isn’t it? Only a little older than the twins, so it’s very good of you to befriend him while he’s a guest in our town. I noticed you were talking to him for a long time at the BBQ.”
“And why not?” He winced. Defensive, way too defensive. “I’ve spent a lot of time in London,” he said, more steadily, “so we had plenty to talk about.” Not that they spent any time talking about that…
“Sure you had.”
“What—”
“I’m sorry, Arlo, I gotta go. Hank’ll be home soon, and dinner won’t cook itself. No doubt we’ll see you in town on Saturday. Bye.”
He stared down at his cell. The call had left him unsettled. Stupid. He shook his shoulders out to release the tension. It’d been Francine being Francine. He and Lucian were friends, that was all. They’d agreed it. Yet, as he pushed his cell into his pocket, he was starting to feel as if he were veering away from the path and making his way into the unknown.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Nerves butterflied in Arlo’s stomach as he leaned against the streetlamp and waited for Lucian, who as soon as he’d rung the bell had stuck his head out of the window and called that he was on his way.
It’d been a couple of days since his conversation with Francine, but her words hadn’t stopped going around and around in his head like a washing machine on a never-ending cycle.Unsettled… drifting… young… dangerous to know…He’d examined every one, before rejecting them. Yet, he’d picked up his cell, on the verge of calling Lucian to cancel their plans before throwing it aside. Why had Francine gotten to him the way she had? His relationship with Lucian — not that it was that — was none of her business, and he was going to make sure it stayed that way.
The front door flung open, scattering Arlo’s troubled thoughts.
Lucian stood on its threshold, his smile sunshine bright. His thick, dark hair, wild as ever, framed his face; Arlo’s fingers itched to push away the heavy hank that fell across his brow. They stared at each other, neither moving, as though each were afraid to make the first move.
Crazy… This wasn’t a first date, it wasn’t a date of any kind.
“Quick, let’s escape before Mr. DuPont sees us.” Lucian bounded down the short flight of steps and chivvied Arlo along. “He keeps stopping me to ask about you. I think he’s got a crush!”
Arlo shuddered. “You mean I’m an object of Mr. DuPont’s affections? Along with his knitted dolls? I’m gonna need therapy.”
Main Street was thronged with people lining the sidewalk on either side. Arlo pushed his way through the crowd, ensuring Lucian stayed close. The annual celebration of the town’s founding, Jake’s Day was the town at its best, with its party dress on and a bow in its hair, and he was determined Lucian was going to enjoy every moment.
“Collier’s Creek really has gone to town.” Lucian looked up at Arlo and smiled. Like everybody around them, they were crushed together, but the press of Lucian’s lithe, slim body was warming up Arlo in all the right, and wrong, places.
A few cops wandered along, ready to deal with any non-existent trouble, stopping and talking to friends and family in the crowd. Ted was one of the cops on duty and, as Arlo noticed him, he chose that moment to turn around. His gaze caught Arlo’s; he smiled and walked forward.
Arlo slipped his arm around Lucian’s shoulders, bending so his mouth came close to Lucian’s ear. Ted stopped, as Arlo hoped he would, raising a brow and a crooked smile before he waved and turned away.
“You okay?” Arlo asked when Lucian looked up at him, a question in his eyes. He had to say something, anything, to explain why he’d thrown his arm around him. “Should have asked you if you were, er, claustrophobic.”
“No, I’m fine.” Lucian looked as calm as a summer’s morning. “Oooh, what’s happening out there?” Lucian pointed to a small raised platform in front of a statue of Jake himself. Local dignitaries jostled for position as a uniformed police officer bounded up on stage to join them.
“That’s Sheriff Morgan.” Arlo’s lips brushed Lucian’s ear, a few errant strands of soft, dark hair tickling his lips. “He’s a direct descendant of the man himself.”
Lucian turned to face him. He was so close Arlo could feel his warm breath caress his skin, and see every silver fleck in Lucian’s deep blue eyes, their beauty undimmed by the ugly glasses. His heart thumped hard, and a bead of sweat crawled down his spine. If Lucian asked him what his name was, Arlo wouldn’t have been able to answer.
Lucian laughed, sending a delicious ripple across Arlo’s skin. “Really? Then he must be like local royalty, having the sacred blood of Jake running through his veins.”
Next to them, a pink-haired elderly lady, holding a flag emblazoned with the noble features of the main man himself, and wearing a large bag across her front, out of which a small, scruffy mutt poked its beribboned head, glared at them before turning away. Arlo straightened up and attempted to put some space between him and Lucian, but the crowd had other ideas.
“My, but he’s handsome.” Lucian laughed as he pushed his slipping glasses up to the bridge of his nose. “He can come and arrest me any time. Handcuff me now, Sheriff, and I promise not to come quietly!”
