4. Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Stone
S he knows I love the game.
And she’s made it the most drawn-out, entertaining fight of my life.
But not for much longer.
The blushes, the lingering stares, the cracks in her voice… I can tell her stubbornness is eroding; she should say yes to me by the end of the night if I continue to play my cards right.
At least I hope so. I’ve thought I was on the verge of having her before and was wrong. It’s not that I see forever with Lucy; I know her dating history. She gets around as much as I do. We could have a lot of fun together, and I think she enjoys toying with me as much as I revel in making flirty advances towards her. I would stop if it looked like it was hurting her, but I don’t miss the thrill in her eyes at our banter. It’s all part of this cat and mouse game we’ve been playing.
Nothing serious will happen between us, but if she wanted to play with me, I wouldn’t turn down the opportunity. As long as she agreed to my usual spiel: no feelings, no commitment, and if one of us begins to develop those pesky feelings or if the desire to commit dawns upon our souls, then we end it immediately.
Those rules would especially be vital considering I work with Lucy.
And maybe, just maybe, I can get her to agree to be my girlfriend for the weekend if I can convince her to go out to dinner with me. It’s not like I can pull her aside at work and tell her I’m in need of a fake girlfriend.
I mean, I could, but it feels wrong. I should at least treat her to food first…
“Mr. Harper, Keaton Welch is on line one.” My secretary, Jeanie, pokes her head through my door, pulling me from thoughts of winning over Lucy Spence.
I smile at the middle-aged, kind mother of three then glance at the clock. “Thanks, Jeanie. Will you tell him I’m in a meeting and that I’ll call him back later?” I pause. “Why don’t you go take your lunch break? Oh, and will you send Lucy in here?”
She grins. “Of course. Thank you, sir.”
Jeanie’s floating head disappears, the door clicking shut behind her.
I stand, stretching out my back after pouring over financial reports all morning long. The community center I opened here in Juniper Grove about a year ago is thriving as I hoped it would. While attending college in the area, I noticed the local kids didn’t have a place to hang out, study, or engage in sports, especially the kids from lower-class families. I found an empty building, which used to be a factory, and had it turned into a community center using my earnings from stock trading and the money I had saved from not purchasing a ring five years ago.
I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished here. No, this endeavor doesn’t make me a lot of money, but that’s what working the stock market is for. Plus, I’ll open more money-making businesses in the future. This was a heart project. When I was a child back in Dasher Valley, I wished I had somewhere to go to stay out of trouble and still have a good time. I plan to open a center down there next, especially if Stella wins a representative seat, but Juniper Grove was first because I used my internship class during my senior year of college to kickstart things in this town.
Three light knocks on the door inform me she’s here.
“Come in, Lucy May,” I say with a broad smile already taking over my face. She claims she doesn’t like me using her middle name, but when I do, her cheeks redden, and sometimes, I catch her suppressing a smile as she rolls those hazel eyes into the back of her pretty little head.
When I learned she was a romance author mere months after I hired her, I ran to get my hands on her books. She has two completed series of romantic comedies published, but from her marketing, it looks like she has some urban fantasy romances coming out in the near future. I can still use those for my purposes. A direct line to her heart and mind to assist in my attempts to win her over? Yes, please. I adore that she uses her first and middle name as her pen name. It’s so Lucy… It shows her constant battle between desiring attention while simultaneously attempting to hide herself away. The duality of her character is fascinating.
She steps into my office, her stubbornness already cemented in place. Her shoulders are pushed back, chin tilted up, and her hands are planted firmly on her all too delectable hips, which are on full display in that tight, pink plaid skirt she’s wearing.
We match. Isn’t that cute?
“What do you need me for, Mr. Harper?”
“If you won’t go to dinner with me, then let me take you out to lunch.” She narrows her eyes and purses her lips. “For official business,” I add.
I have to leave to go to Dasher Valley for my buddy’s wedding by tomorrow morning at the latest, and I need Lucy by my side if I want to keep up the “she’s my girlfriend” charade with my family. If she doesn’t agree, then I’m going to have to come up with something to appease my family, which will put Stella further on my case. Everyone who knows me knows that I would rather croak than to show up to a wedding without a date. (My sister’s was the only exception because I thought I’d take a go at her New York friend, Hayden, which was shut down quickly. Turns out she was meant for the new president of the country, so that’s kind of cool.)
Lucy rolls her eyes and cocks her hip out to the side. I take a steadying breath to keep my face from heating. I might be the ringleader of this game, but that doesn’t make me immune to the hypnotic sexiness of this woman.
“This is becoming a weekly occurrence, Mr. Harper. It’s impacting my work performance.”
I lean against my desk and cross my arms. “So should we bump it up to twice a week so that you’ll be doubly impacted? I didn’ t realize me pestering you for lunch and dinner was such a positive thing.”
Lucy tugs at the bow tied in the front of her shirt at her neckline. The unbidden mental image of me reaching across the sea of distance between us and tugging the bow loose might be enough to undo me.
“I never said it had a positive impact.”
“But you didn’t say it was negative.” I wink, and a rose petal flush paints her nose, cheeks, and forehead. I adore that when Lucy blushes, she does so with her entire freckled face. “Come on, one lunch. Just one lunch and I promise I’ll stop asking you, okay?”
She thinks for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. “Fine,” she bites. I celebrate the moment in my head, but I know my thoughts leak through my smile. I’ve finally won her over, even if she isn’t considering this an actual date. She finally said yes…
Lucy speaks again in that sharp tone. “But I’m picking the restaurant. And you can bet it will be an expensive lunch. Seafood. Lots of it.”
I chortle, admiring this confident, bold, fierce side of her. “I would expect nothing less from you, Lucy May.” Now to get you to go to Dasher Valley with me tomorrow morning for the entirety of the weekend…
Thirty minutes (and a fifteen minute bickering session in my truck) later, I’m seated across from Lucy at Perry’s Seafood, a local restaurant known to bring the Cajun heat. This place is one of my sister’s favorites to eat at when she visits me .
I thought I’d have three months to build a decent breakup story to tell Stella. To tell her that I was coming home alone for her birthday because things were over between me and Lucy. I’d start with slowly mentioning fights we had, then I would start creating stories that painted Lucy in a negative light, such as she flirted with other men in front of me or something. The killing blow would be that she cheated on me, so I could no longer continue seeing her.
Just like that, I could go home alone for Stella’s birthday, and my “girlfriend” would be no more. My family wouldn’t ask me about it because they never bothered to ask me about Lacey when that ended. I kept quiet, and they let me. Lucy would be the only other woman they think I’ve seriously committed to, and while they harass me about my flings, they’ve never gotten on my case when it came to Lacey. It would be the same with Lucy.
I’m a mastermind, right? Well, was…
The planned course of action will not take place since I’m going home in the morning, and that’s clearly not enough time to build up a breakup. I also feel a smidge guilty over the thought of painting Lucy in such a bad light. I don’t actually think she would cheat on a man. She might date a lot, but she’s got a heart of gold.
Though that golden heart seems to be a little broken and bruised by the way she always has this crestfallen look about her lately when she thinks nobody is watching.
But I am always watching.
“Here’s a plate of crab for the lady.” A tall, tanned, and muscular man sets the plate down in front of Lucy, whose eyes widen. I’m pretty sure there’s drool at the corner of her mouth.
You thought I was describing her expression toward the food ?
Nope.
She’s making heart-eyes at the man.
Maybe I’m not so far off on the assumption she’d flirt with another man in front of me…
But wait.
I’m not actually her boyfriend.
I’m not even her fake boyfriend.
Yet.
“I cooked this one myself, so if anything’s wrong, let me know. We are trying out new recipes.”
Lucy nods emphatically, twirling her hair around her finger. “Of course. It smells delicious. I’m sure it will taste even better.”
And then the woman has the audacity to wink!
Flames of jealousy lick my skin to a blackened crisp.
The man sets down my order of crawfish etouffee and walks away, Lucy’s eyes trailing after him.
When her gaze finally shifts and falls onto her plate, I clear my throat loudly, earning her attention.
“You okay?” She arches her brow and tilts her head.
“What’s he got that I don’t?” I try to sound teasing, but even I have to admit that I sound like a jealous punk. Not jealous of Lucy looking him over but jealous that she’s in my presence doing it. Cool it, Stone.
Lucy rolls her eyes. “He’s not my boss. And do you see this food he placed in front of me?” She gestures to the plate of crab. “Bet you can’t do this. ”
I lower my voice and drop my gaze to her lips. “Say yes to dinner with me one night, and instead of taking you out, I’ll take you home .”
She gasps, those cute pink lips forming an “o.” I shouldn’t tease her like that, especially if I’m going to get her to say yes to going to Dasher Valley with me for the weekend, but I don’t think I can help it. She’s too tempting. And when her face flushes because of me, it makes me feel some type of way.
“To cook you dinner,” I finish, satisfied with her reaction and also needing to redirect my thoughts. If she does agree to be my pretend girlfriend for the weekend, I’ll have to set up careful boundaries for myself. She’s my employee, after all.
Lucy scrunches her nose and knits her brows, but she doesn't respond, opting to focus on deshelling her crabs. She struggles pulling off the carapace, but man, she’s cute when she’s giving it her all…
“Let me get that for you.” I reach over the table to grab her plate, but as my hands wrap around the edges, hers wrap around mine. Our first touch…
I never understood what people meant by electric touches until that very moment. It was as if the static we’d acquired over every single year of our lives was transferred as her fingers brushed against mine. ZING!
It’s at the precise moment I’m imagining those petite fingers trailing down my chest that I’m pelted in the face with a plateful of crab. Salty juices run down my cheeks, mingling with salty tears, as my eyeballs cry out a desperate plea to escape from the hell inflicted upon them. I collapse back into my seat. My body tenses as crabs fall to the table with a hard plunk while others drop into my lap, the smell of butter and spicy seafood all encompassing. The plate must have fallen back to the table as I don’t hear shattering.
“Stone! Er—Mr. Harper, here. Take this.”
I grit my teeth and clench my fists on the table. “I can’t see a thing.”
“Oh, right.”
Suddenly, coolness presses against my face, which I’m assuming is a napkin of some sort. She wipes off my cheeks, crossing the bridge of my nose with a gentle touch, before she moves lower. Involuntarily, I tilt my head as her fingers rest underneath my chin. “I’m so sorry about that,” she says quickly, still wiping at my face. “I just reacted when your hands touched mine.”
That I understand, I think to myself. Then I smile because it sounds like she felt the same ZING! I did.
“One second,” she whispers, and the napkin disappears. It takes over ten quickened heartbeats pounding my chest before I sense her presence in front of me again. A refreshing spicy vanilla scent breaks through the sourness of the seafood.
“I’m going to wipe your eyes,” she says. I nod, but that must have been the moment she was approaching because instead of receiving a cool, gentle caress like I was anticipating, I’m poked in the eye.
The curse that slips through my lips is perfectly warranted if you ask me.
“Gah, I’m sorry! But please, hold still, Mr. Harper.” While Lucy does sound sorry, she also sounds amused. And though my eyes are burning and the right one is also throbbing, the way her voice sounds when it shifts to a command could bring the dead back to life.
The damp napkin presses against my right eye and moves in slow circles before she moves to the other one. It’s as if I could see her directly in front of me, hazel eyes erring on the side of green, concentrating on the contours of my face as she works. I can imagine her lips parting or her nose scrunching up again. She’s so close that if I just leaned in, I could finally educate myself on how those supple lips taste…
“Done. But you should probably go wash your eyes out before you try to open them. I can get someone to lead you to the bathroom. Maybe the chef guy from earlier?”
“No,” I choke out, imagining my hands clutching the biceps on that guy. No thank you. Not the arms I want to feel up. “You can lead me to the bathroom just fine. But first, I think there are crabs in my lap.” I smirk, unable to help myself once again. “You want to clean those off for me, too?”
I can practically hear the scowl as she says, “You can find your own way to the little boy’s room.” She mumbles about how she feels like a mother managing a toddler because of our two-year age gap, which triggers memories I’d rather not remember. So to cope, I joke.
Chuckling, I regress, though there’s a slight bite to my tone. “Just messing with you, ma’am. Should I call you that? Since you’re older and such?”
“Be my guest. It’s good to respect your elders.”
I laugh some more to not feel the things and then change the subject. “Thanks for wiping my face clean. I’ll get the crabs off my lap, but at least guide my hand so that I can drop them back on the plate for you. These should be salvageable since they didn’t land on the floor.” I go to hold my hand up, but instead, I knock the bottom of the table. How many injuries will I walk away with from this lunch outing?
Silence.
“You want me to eat crabs that have been on your lap? Mm, no, don’t think so.”
“‘Kay, then.” I stand, the crabs falling to the ground. I feel the hard edge of the table against my hips, so this time, I swing my arm around to hold out my hand to Lucy. “Lead me to the bathroom, my fearless liege.” That word is foreign on my tongue, but I’ve read it in one of her books, so I give it a try.
She snorts. “Are we in a situational twist? Am I now your leader?” As she’s speaking, she wraps her hand around my outstretched wrist. Once again, electricity radiates from her touch, but this time, I’m prepared for it.
I grin towards Lucy, or at least I hope in her direction as my eyes are still squeezed shut. “I may be your boss, but you can order me around anytime you please.”
She doesn’t respond, but I can imagine her face flushing and her lips parting into that cute little “o” expression; she’s unintentionally Pavlov-ed me to react with pleasure when I see it. Or even think she’s wearing it, apparently.
My arm is yanked rather hard as she pulls me. I hip check a table and kick a chair as she drags me forward, not bothering to warn me of things in my path.
“We’re here.” She drops my wrist. “But I’m not going in there with you. Use your hands to feel around.”
A wicked smile stretches across my face. “Can I start now?” I stretch my hands out in the direction of her voice, but she slaps them and redirects me until both of my palms are flat against a door. Not willing to push her further, mostly because a fleeting thought crossed my mind that I might have gone too far with that one, I enter the bathroom and do as she says, feeling around until I touch a knob on a sink.
I let the faucet run for about thirty seconds to make sure I didn’t accidentally turn on the hot water, and then I set to work rinsing out my eyes. Once I finish and can finally open my eyes without the air stinging them, I cringe at my reflection in the full-body mirror by the door. I resemble a three-year-old who spilled his food down his shirt and then had an accident in his pants. The pink shirt I wear is now more of a dirty orange color down the front, and that bleeds into an unfortunate stain in an unfortunate area of my khaki pants. My hair has juices and pieces of crab shell from the few she managed to crack before I attempted to be a chivalrous man and help her. I wash my hair the best I can and dry myself off with a bundle of paper towels. What’s a little water dripping down the front of my shirt when there’s already other liquids there?
Confident that this is the best I’m going to look, I exit the restroom.
Lucy waits outside the door, her arms folded and a smirk across her face as two women with scowls stand behind her.
Nervously glancing at the signage by the bathroom, I realize the woman led me to the ladies’ room…
The situation grates my nerves, and I grimace in an attempt to hide my disdain. She shoved the plate onto me. She poked me in the eye. She brought me to this bathroom. “A step too far, Lucy May,” I say with a gentle but stern voice. My boss’s voice.
She swallows, dropping her folded arms and clasping her hands in front of her. She hangs her head low, and I immediately regret using that tone coupled with what I call her to flirt with her. Good going, Mr. Harper…
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, barely audible over the noise in the restaurant. Speaking of, how many people saw that incident? Did Lucy shoo them away silently when they came to help? “I promise I’ll make all of this up to you. I got carried away in my frustrations.”
“Why were you frustrated?”
She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. You just… it’s nothing.”
“Tell me,” I press.
“You just have a special way of irritating me, that’s all.”
Laughter escapes me despite our current situation. Briefly, I wonder if the way I irritate her is the same way she irritates me?
The best kind of irritation.
Irritation because of desire.
“But I’m really sorry,” she tacks on sheepishly.
I sigh and step towards her. “It’s okay. All’s well. But can we go?” I sniff my shirt. “I stink.”
She glances up at me through thick eyelashes, and I offer her a reassuring smile. She returns the smile and nods, then she scrunches her nose in that cute way that melts any remaining frustration from the crab incident. “Yeah, you do stink. This will be a fun ride back to work. ”
As we exit, I turn over a million words in my brain—a million different ways to ask Lucy to be my stand-in date this weekend. I already know if I ask her in the sense that I’m asking her out for real, she will say no and bolt as she has in the past. I need to approach this like it’s all pretend. She will pretend to be my girlfriend this weekend, that’s all. Nothing real. Nothing permanent. Heck, I don’t want something permanent with Lucy. Yeah, she’s captivating. Yeah, I think about her even when I’m with other women. Yeah, I think she’s somehow written her name on my soul, but all that could go away in an instant. It has before. There have been a few women in my life who have made me feel this way, but those deep feelings end up dissipating. Usually once the high of the chase was over. That could happen with Lucy, too.
It will happen. Love never sticks around.
Simply put, it’s smart of her to keep fending off my advances. Even if I didn’t want to, I would still break her heart.
The thought of adding another crack into Lucy’s golden heart sends a wave of anger over me. I glance at her, walking with her head tilted down and hands clasped in front of her as she matches me step for step.
I really don’t want to hurt her.
But I also really want to experience her.
Maybe a weekend away playing pretend will put these feelings to rest so I can move on and not lose control when it comes to my pretty employee whose company I genuinely enjoy.
An all too familiar voice calls out my name. It freezes me in my tracks, and I’m instantly transported five years into the past to high school graduation night for Dasher Valley High where that same voice uttered words that completely derailed my life plans as I was down on one knee. You’re not enough for me, Stone. A real man… That night I realized just how much pain my now brother-in-law, Lucas Grady, must have been in when my big sister left him for her career.
Something akin to horror flashes before my eyes as I realize I have no choice but to address her. I could have kept walking, pretending that I didn’t hear my name, but now that I’ve stopped, I have to face her. I wonder if she has the man who is enough for her on her arm.
Lucy elbows me, ripping me from my nightmare.
Lucy…who is already my girlfriend in my family’s eyes, though she doesn’t know I’ve been using her as a shield against the desires of my family. The woman I want to play pretend with anyways…
I slip my arm around her waist and tug her close before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Lucy, are you truly sorry for leading me into the women’s bathroom?”
“Of course,” she says, looking up at me perplexed while also trying to step backwards.
I tighten my hold around her.
“Stone, is that you?” The ghost of my past is now right behind us.
Once more, I whisper in Lucy’s ear. “Play along.”
As I bring my other hand to her waist, I spin her around, take a steadying breath, say a quick prayer that this won’t go to hell in a handbasket like the rest of this day has, and then I turn around .
Sliding my arm back around Lucy and splaying my fingers across her hip so she doesn't attempt to move, I muster all the courage I can find and paste the biggest of smiles to my face.
“Lacey, it’s good to see you.” I nod once then shift my attention to the shorter, stockier, older man clasping her hand. “Jordan.”
“Good to see you,” Jordan says, stretching out his hand, doing an admittedly good job at not looking me over in my nasty crab-soaked state. I shake it with a firmness I didn’t know I had. He turns to Lucy. “I’m Jordan Hopper.”
She looks up at me with questions in her eyes. I relax a little, confident enough that she will play along with me. She takes that as the go ahead and grabs his hand, giving him her full attention. “Lucy Spence.”
As soon as she drops his hand, I lock eyes with Lucy and tack on to her introduction. “My older girlfriend.”
She physically stiffens at my side but makes no motion to correct me. In fact, I’m slightly amazed at her ability to not blurt “what the—” at the proclamation. Not letting me get away completely unscathed, she does tilt her head to the side and narrows her eyes. But as soon as the expression touches her face, it’s gone. In its place a love-struck woman who adores her man…
At least that’s what the sudden rounded eyes that sparkle and the perma-looking upturn of the corners of her lips look like to me.
She looks at me, then to Lacey, and she takes a small step to stand in front of my body as if she’s my personal bodyguard.
My hands shift to her waist, and I do something I’ve often dreamed of doing….
Pull her hips into mine.