15. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Stone
W hat happened in Dasher Valley didn’t stay in Dasher Valley.
It followed me to Juniper Grove. Into my house. Tucked itself under the bedsheets with me. Invaded my dreams like the boogeyman.
For the past week, I’ve stared rapturously at Lucy while in staff meetings. I’ve had to seize my own hands when they’ve wanted to hold her as I’ve spoken alone with her in my office. I’ve bitten my tongue to refrain from flirting shamelessly with her.
Not to mention I’ve caught her checking me out time and time again. I’ve caught her licking her lips when we’ve made eye contact across the gym. Heck, we’ve even had Jeanie, my secretary, make vague comments about how me and Lucy can’t keep our attention off of each other.
People are noticing.
And weirdly enough, they’re shipping us.
Not accusing me of nepotism .
So yeah. I’m done tiptoeing around Lucy.
I have a plan to rectify the situation, but I will only go through with it if she agrees. I’ll be forthcoming with her, and while I fully expect her to shoot this down, at least I can say I tried. Maybe after she tells me no, I can let these insufferable feelings go and go find another woman to play around with. One who’s not my employee.
One I haven’t grown to care about—at least in an I-enjoy-her-company-and-don’t-want-to-see-her-sad type capacity. Because outside of the lingering stares and stolen moments across rooms, she still sports that same melancholic expression. Like the world has taken away her favorite toy and smashed it to pieces.
Maybe… Just maybe… This insane idea of mine will bring some joy back into her life.
I square my shoulders and knock on her door. She hollers at me to come in, so I do, immediately going to stand beside her desk.
“I’ve got an idea.”
Lucy groans and rolls her eyes as she stops typing on her computer. While we’ve stifled our desires since we’ve been back—and I say ours because she’s been as stealthy as a slow runner attempting to steal second base—when we are alone like this together, she keeps me at arms length, treating me like I’m her annoying male best friend.
Which I’ve acted like on all accounts to be honest.
I had so much fun with her back in Dasher Valley, and well, though our fake dating time ticked to an end, I wish it would have lasted a little longer. I didn’t even get to kiss her in front of my family.
So naturally, I’m making it happen.
“What’s your grand vision this time? Please don’t adjust my Halloween Bash event plan again…”
I laugh at the worried tone in her voice. “I’ve only changed parts of it once. Don’t be dramatic.”
She mumbles under her breath as she turns her attention back to whatever she was working on. Her curly red hair is up in a messy bun, but the moment I focus on it, I imagine it floating around her pale face at the bottom of a pool.
I shake the recurring nightmare from my head and remind myself she’s here in front of me, alive and breathing and fiery as ever.
“What if we started fake dating again?”
The typing sounds cease as she whips her head around to look at me. I’m leaning against her desk, the side of it uncomfortably jabbing into my backside, but I remain in this casual, laid-back pose with my arms crossed because, well, for the sake of sounding like a conceited meat-head, I know I look good like this.
“Huh?” Her wide eyes and raised brows attempt to draw a laugh from me. She’s sort of adorable when she’s taken with surprise.
“I have a meeting coming up in a few days with some investors, and I know they’ll be bringing their wives along to the dinner. I thought it’d be nice to bring along my girlfriend to show them I can commit.”
“But I’m not your girlfriend.” She blinks a few times as if clearing away a daze. “And you can’t commit for whatever reason you choose not to disclose to me.”
“Duh. But you could continue to be my fake girlfriend. We could even set ground rules if you want since ‘what happens in Dasher Valley stays in Dasher Valley’ isn’t applicable to the foreseeable future.”
“But why wouldn’t we terminate it again after the meeting?” She tilts her head and brings a pen she’d picked up at some point to her lips and bites on it.
“The fourth of July will be coming up two days after that. Dasher Valley puts on a huge community event, and my family would like me to bring you back for it. My sister’s birthday is in August. Then there’s my birthday, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas. Your sister’s wedding and coronation. I want a date for my side of events. Don’t you want a date for yours?”
She stares at me, pen between her teeth, as if I’m speaking a foreign language.
Finally, she removes the pen and speaks with caution in her voice. “You don’t think I could find a real date to those events? And couldn’t you…?”
“Of course we could. But I think we both had a lot of fun back in Dasher Valley, and to be honest, I don’t want to settle down with anyone right now. You’d be a safe option for me.”
“But then you’re preventing me from finding a man who is ready to settle down. Isn’t that a little selfish of you to ask?” She crosses her arms.
Oof. She’s right. The thought never entered my mind as I was too consumed with thoughts of kissing her more. I relax my hands at my side and stand up straight. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that. ”
“All is forgiven,” she says. Then, she stands and faces me. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only because I’ve had second thoughts about life after I almost drowned. And I owe you big time for saving me.”
“Lucy,” I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose as I close my eyes to collect myself. “I’ve told you time and time again that you do not owe me for pulling you out of that pool. You’ve brought me coffees, have organized my office, and continue to ask what else you can do to make up for it. Your life has no value attached to it. It’s precious and invaluable. While I appreciate the things you’ve done, it isn’t and never has been necessary.”
“But still,” she says in a lowered voice. We meet each other’s eyes. Words go unspoken as I search hazel-green irises that are sparkling as if they’re on the verge of releasing tears. She looks at me as if I’m her hero, and though, I guess, technically I am, the thought of her viewing me as such disturbs me.
Not because I don’t want to be a hero to her but because I am certainly not a man worthy of a title like that.
I even dragged her out of church because I was uncomfortable with the sermon. That’s not manly hero status. Granted, she looked as perturbed as I felt, but still. Who was I to take her away? God might not love me, but surely He loves Lucy.
“What will we do here at work? Are we faking it for everyone? If we start going out as a couple to town events and dinners and such, you know word will get around.”
Something else I didn’t think about, but to be honest, it’s the least of my concerns. Everyone here seems to be cool with my interest in her. I like the idea. More public time equals more kissing and touching time. And I love the way she feels beneath my fingertips… “We will play pretend here, too.”
“Aren’t we a real couple at that point? The only time we won’t be faking it is when we are off on our own.”
I shrug and smirk. “More time to flirt with you openly.”
“Incorrigible,” Lucy huffs and shakes her head. But as she turns away, I see a smile spread across her freckled face.
“That was easier than I expected it to be,” I mention. Though I can’t seem to shake Lucy’s hold on me right now, I know I will eventually. Playing pretend, keeping everything titled fake, will make it easier for the both of us to part ways when that wall demanding I let her go hits me. “I do enjoy spending time with you, Lucy. We can be friends. Good friends.”
“With benefits?” she adds, arching an eyebrow.
I shrug. “I’ll let you set the rules. Fair?”
She keeps her attention on her computer but tugs at the high-neck portion of her sleeveless lavender shirt. “But I’m a Christian, Stone. And so are you, right? Isn’t friends-with-benefits kind of against the rules?”
Her point is valid, and it stirs penitence in my soul. But not enough to backtrack. “Like I said, we can set rules, though you know I despise rules.”
“You live to break them,” she mutters. Then louder, she adds, “Like I said, I’ve reevaluated things. Maybe I don’t want to settle down right now, either. And I enjoy spending time with you, too.”
“You? The romance author who writes happily-ever-afters time and time again? You don’t want to settle down?”
“Mr. Harper, have you read my books? ”
Her voice isn’t shocked or embarrassed. She’s intrigued.
“I’ve read a few,” I admit. All eight of them, but she doesn’t need to know that. “You’re an outstanding author. And I’ve read enough to know I’ve got ample ammo to fire at you within the flirting range. You seem to like it when men do certain things .”
This snaps her attention back on me. Her lips part slightly in a moment of shock. Or is it horror? Then she asks, “Like what?”
“For starters, shoving the heroine against a wall and claiming her as his own, which I effectively accomplished last week. I guess you’ll be finding out the rest soon enough, baby girl. ”
She blushes but doesn’t respond. Instead, she redirects. “Let’s go ahead and set ground rules and boundaries.”
“Boundaries like… I’m free to kiss and touch you? I’m very much a physical touch man, Lucy May. You know that.” I step towards her and run a finger alongside her jawline, hovering just above her freckled skin. Heat radiates from the proximity.
“N-no,” she stutters, her face flushing harder. “Only in front of people. To sell our relationship. No lips or hands in private. We can’t have a repeat of Dasher Valley.”
I pout my bottom lip. “But what about when we are back in Dasher Valley?”
“No,” she says, but a hint of a smile appears. She quickly schools her expression and points to the chair across from her desk. “Sit down over there. I don’t like you hovering over me.”
I do as she says while she pulls a small notebook and pen from her rounded white purse that looks more like a mini backpack. “I’m going to write these down, so remember, if it goes on the list, it must be abided by.”
She opens the phone-sized notebook as a smile plays at her lips with each flip of the page. Curiosity gets the best of me.
“What’s the notebook for? Besides signing me to my ultimate doom by implementing,” I feign a gag, “rules.”
She shakes her head, unamused. “It’s my Idea notebook. For when I get story ideas on the go.”
“Can I see it?”
Lucy hugs the book to her chest with a shocked expression. “You never ask an author to see her ramblings. Never. It’s a chaotic place and would make zero sense to you. It’s Wonderland.”
“My bad.” I hold up my hands. “Was just thinking it would allow me insight into who you are. You know, to sell this fake relationship thing. Besides, I’ve told you once and I’ll say it again: I can handle your rabbit hole of a brain.”
She shakes her head, her unruly curls flying around with the motion. I might be a little obsessed with her hair in its natural state. I want to run my fingers through it just to get them stuck. Then, I would tug, tilting her chin up to me. Her lips would slightly part, and I’d…
Nope.
Keep your mind PG-13, dude. Lord knows you’ll never manage PG.
“We will sell it well enough,” she mumbles under her breath, setting the notebook back down and glancing away as she sips from her bottle of water.
“If you’re talking about our chemistry, that is a correct assessment. ”
She raises her eyebrows and nods as she picks up her pen. Satisfied, I lean back in the chair and wait for her to continue listing her rules. She begins writing, and after a moment, she meets my eyes. “Okay. So number one, no touching or kissing in private. Only in front of people and only when necessary.”
I grin, already planning for loads of time in front of people. “I agree.”
“Number two. No getting involved with other people while we’re together.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweet cheeks.” She must really think I’m a rake. I date a lot, sure, but I would never two-time a girl. Even if our relationship is for falsified purposes.
“Ack.” She fakes a gag, pointing her finger to her opened mouth. “And that’s number three. No gross couple names. If we adopt couple names, the other must approve of it.”
She scribbles down the rules as I throw a list of names her way. “Honey bun? Snookums? Luce Goose?”
“That last one is reserved for my best friend, Hadley,” she states with a pointed glare. “She’ll hunt you down herself, pregnant and all, if you try to use it.”
“Noted,” I say. “Then how about sugar pie?”
She glares at me as I crack up.
“Fine, fine. I’ll stick to Little Lion.”
“Number four,” she begins.
I release an exaggerated sigh, folding my arms across my chest. “This is getting pretty long.”
“Number. Four,” she repeats with emphasis, her eyes drawn to the movement of my arms. She tilts her head in consideration before blinking several times and looking back at her notebook. “When it’s over, I broke up with you. Not the other way around.”
“Now why you gotta be like that, Lucy May?”
She drops her shoulders while letting out a breath. “Because, Granite, if I break up with you, your family won’t have a reason to hound you about marriage and dating. If you break up with me, then they’ll be on your case again.”
Hm. She has a point there, though it’ll hurt the ego a bit. But also… “Granite? I like it. Better than Pebbles. It’s approved. And you don’t know my family. They’ll hound me either way. It’ll be my fault you broke up with me.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” She finishes writing rule four down before dropping the pen and focusing on me. “Have you given them a reason to believe you would be the cause of every failed relationship?”
“Depends on who you ask,” I respond through a tightened smile. My mother and sister would be lenient on me, but they still say I’m the common denominator problem. The rest of Dasher Valley? Well, let’s just say I have a certain reputation I haven’t bothered to dismantle.
Lucy’s tone softens as she says, “Well, I’ll come up with a good reason that shifts all the blame onto me. Sound good?”
“You’d do that for me?” I… I don’t know if I want to do that to her, but the simple fact that she’d be willing speaks volumes about her heart.
Also, it makes me wonder—as I did on the trip up here—who once decided she was the scapegoat? Or is she just that kind ?
Though she’s a kind woman, I don’t think she’d take to being a doormat willingly…
She smiles. “I don’t know why, but it seems I would. Maybe it’s because you sign my paychecks. Maybe I feel a little bad for dumping crab all over you at lunch. Maybe I regret ruining your pretty face with a cast iron skillet.” Her eyes search my face for faint lingering bruises.
I laugh, despite my growing concern for her. “So be it,” I remark. I’ll decide later if this is the best course of action or not.
Lucy stands and moves beside me, her white skirt swishing and tempting me with wild thoughts. “This is it for now. If I think of any more, I’ll be sure to tell you.” She sets the notebook down and holds out the pen to me. “But first, sign the list here. My sister is a lawyer and future queen of an entire country, after all.”
I take the pen from her, brushing her fingers as I do. I narrow my eyes at her before signing my fun away.
“Will you sign your fun away, too?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes at me before signing below my name. “There. It’s a gentlemen’s agreement.”
“Should we shake on it?” I stand up, offering her my hand. She looks as if it will attack her.
“Not a chance. You’ll linger or tug me close to you or something weird.”
I click my tongue. “How are you already catching on to my schemes, Lucy May?”
“ B ro. What in the world are you reading?”
I lift my eyes from the words on the paper that were painting a scene of the male main character taking care of the female main character while she’s sick with the flu. Lucy tends to write about men taking care of women a lot. Is that something she wishes would be done for her?
Yes, I’m taking notes.
However long this lasts between us, until the feelings I have dissipate, as they always do, I’m going to make it worthwhile for the both of us.
My best friend from college, Stanton Holloway, sits down across the table from me at Books and Beans. It’s a small, square building with half of the space devoted to bookshelves and the other half a cafe. Lucy’s books are somewhere in the stacks. I’ve asked Emma Jane, the full-time barista here, to restock them every time I notice she runs out.
I set the cartoon cover book down. “A how-to manual to fully win my girlfriend’s heart.”
Stanton’s pretzel-colored eyes bulge. Speaking of pretzels, when will my food be here? “You have a girlfriend that you’re actually calling your girlfriend and you’re reading a romance novel to try and win her over?” He pauses and waves his hand in front of my eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with my roguish mate?”
Did I mention Stanton is British? He came here on foreign exchange, fell in love with a girl in college, and decided to plant roots. On their wedding day, I pulled his now-wife, Candace, aside and thanked her for keeping my friend here in Juniper Grove instead of running off to England with him like pretty much any other woman would have done. However, I told her I’d miss mine and Stanton’s nickname from college (courtesy of the ladies): S&S, which stood for Sexy Stone and Smoldering Stanton. Candace, graciously, said we could keep it even though Mr. Smolder now has a wife that he could turn all his golden-eyed goodness onto.
I swat his hand away though the grin spreading across my face is one-hundred percent real. Should I continue letting him think I have a girlfriend or should I tell him the truth? Decisions, decisions…
He’s my best mate, as he said, so I have to be honest. “The author,” I point to the book in front of me, “is my fake girlfriend for all intents and purposes for the foreseeable future.”
“That’s the same woman who is your event coordinator?”
“And also my assistant director, yep.” I pop the “p” and lean back, crossing my arms while gauging his reaction. He narrows his eyes and rolls his bottom lip into his mouth, contemplating the situation. He’s going to tell me it’s, and I quote, “a bloody ridiculous idea,” but that’s when I’ll shrug and smirk and change the topic of conversation.
“Stone, this is a bloody brilliant idea.” A wide smile stretches across Stanton’s slim face as he steeples his hands and leans onto the table. At that time, Emma Jane sets down my turkey melt, but I can’t stop staring at Stanton.
“I’m sorry, but what?”
“Look at you, mate.” He gestures to my book. “You’re reading her book in the middle of a coffee shop on your lunch break. ”
“I don’t have lunch breaks,” I interrupt, trying to change where I think this conversation is headed. “I’m my own boss.”
“Be that as it may, you’re reading your fake girlfriend’s romance book. And this isn’t the first one you’ve read, is it?” He gets a wicked gleam in his eyes as he leans forward further, placing his hands flat on the table.
“No,” I mumble, looking at the big, pointy-leaf plant by the doorway instead of at my best friend who I can’t lie to even if it would save my life. “I’m re-reading them because she hasn’t published any more yet. Though it sounds like her new series will be fantasy, so that’ll be a change.”
Stanton lets out a long whistle as he sits back in the wooden chair and tosses his hands behind his head. “You’re down bad, mate.”
“I’m not down anything. Did you catch the word ‘fake’ before the word girlfriend? It’s a dating-for-convenience type situation. It benefits both of us in our stage of life currently. Nothing more.”
“Nothing more?” He raises one dark brown eyebrow.
“No. I mean, sure, she’s stunning. And she’s funny. She challenges me in ways no other woman has before. She likes me well enough, but it’s only in the way that I like her. You know, lonely companionship and all.” I pause and scratch my head. “But I don’t want to hurt her, and I know she eventually wants to get married. I can’t stop her from that. If she meets a guy along the way while we are faking it, I’ll let her go. I’m not the marrying type. She knows that, which is why we set up ground rules. I think she just wants to have a little fun, too, you know? I want to give her a good time and make her smile. ”
Emma Jane arrives with Stanton’s order, and I finally take a bite of my sandwich that has cooled.
Stanton’s animated expression from earlier is replaced with a subdued, contemplative look. “If my advice is worth anything to you, which I think it is, you have two options: let Lucy go or make her yours. Really yours. Don’t play with her heart, Stone. We aren’t in college anymore.” He grabs a spoon and stirs his soup while I chew over his words.
Is it really playing with her heart if she agreed? I’m attracted to her but I have no plans to settle down with her. I know these desirous feelings will go away one day. That goes to show she can be attracted to me with no plans to settle down with me, right? That she’ll get tired of me eventually if I don’t tire of her first.
“Everything will be okay. We are both grown, consenting adults. Like I said, if she finds someone, we will call everything off.”
“What if it’s too late by then?”
I look at him as if his accent changed the meaning of his words.
“What if you have fallen for her? Are you ready for another heartbreak like that?”
Stanton is the only person who knows what truly went down between me and Lacey back on graduation night. No, he doesn’t know her nor was he there, but he’s the only person I’ve confided in about the entire story.
“My heart is made of stone.” I grin at my stupid joke and then chomp another bite out of my sandwich. Stanton stares blankly at me. “But for real. I haven't fallen for a woman in over five years. It’s not going to start now. We are simply entertaining each other for a little while. It’s not too different from other setups I’ve had. Except I know Lucy, and I won’t be doing much in the physical department outside of setting the world on fire with our kisses.” Anything else, that is…
Lucy made a good point stating we are both Christians and shouldn’t fool around. She’s right, and I want to respect her wishes regardless of what my body wants.
“That’s good,” he remarks with a thoughtful nod. “You should really cut out the sex outside of marriage stuff anyway. Don’t connect a woman’s heart to you unless you plan to hold it carefully.”
I shake my head, feeling a familiar tug of conviction. I know that the Lord says to save sex for marriage, but I don’t think He fully understands how hard it is to wait when women throw themselves at you. Maybe He does. I guess I can’t know for sure. Deep down, I know it’s wrong. I know the Bible says to wait. Heck, science says to wait. Bonding hormones and all. I’ve tried to stop. The flesh is always winning, though. It’s consensual, and I get tired of fighting it. It’s not like God truly cares about me anyways.
I can’t talk to anyone about it, either, because I’ll just be judged. In fact, I’ve stopped going to church because it feels like every time I step into one, I’m silently judged for the actions they have no idea I’ve committed.
Like with that stupid sermon Brother Johnny preached last Sunday.
Which begs the statement, maybe people really do know. That’s what a whispered voice in my head says.
Nothing is ever private business in a small town.