17. Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Stone
S he’s going to murder me for this one…
I splay my hand, take two steps towards Lucy, and smack her lightly on the butt.
She whirls around at tornado speed, her hand up and flying towards my face. She stops mere inches away before dropping a balled fist to her side. “Pebbles, babe. You scared me. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
She uses one of the many nicknames she has for me, but I’ve learned this particular one is used when she’s upset with me. A few of the older employees snicker and laugh at our antics. It’s not uncommon for the two of us to try and embarrass the other in front of everyone at the community center since we’ve announced our dating relationship.
And yes, an official one.
Who would have thought ?
After that night in Dasher Valley over a month ago when I took her to bed with me, I knew that whatever was happening in Dasher Valley was not staying there.
I still don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to an honest relationship, but I’m trying. For her, I’m trying.
Embarrassing each other at work has become a game of sorts, and with that nice little love tap, I think I’ve tipped the score in my favor.
Her eyes blaze with heat, promising retribution in the future, but she can’t say a word right now because it would blow our make-people-want-to-puke-at-how-cute-we-are relationship personas.
Who knew I had it in me?
“Sorry, Lucy May. I just can’t help myself sometimes.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” she mumbles under her breath before fixing a smile back on her face.
“You two are the cutest,” my secretary, Jeanie, says as she pats me on the back before giving me a chilling, stern look only a mother could manage. “You better keep this one. I’m glad you finally came to your senses and asked the girl out.”
“I try my best every day.” That’s not a lie. We ripped up the rules we created two days after we got back from Dasher Valley, and now, with every day that passes, I’ve taken to actively begging God to not let me screw this one up. I have no clue what's going to happen between me and Lucy because fear still grips me when I think too long about the fact we are together in an official capacity. Some days we are good and have the time of our lives together while other days she seems dazed and lost .
And I don’t know what to do about it.
I just want her to be happy.
“Okay, guys. We have to focus. Kids will be showing up for the Back to School Bash at any time. Jeanie, will you sign people in at the door? I’m going to make my rounds to make sure everything and everyone is ready.” Lucy doesn’t give me time to respond before she jets off, her heels clicking down the tiled hallway of offices. I watch her walk away, admiring the sway of her white, flowy skirt and wishing I could take her back to my place right now.
Jeanie pats me on the back once more before departing to heed Lucy’s instructions.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket.
Keaton Welch.
I invited my potential investor to today’s event so he could see firsthand how the center is beneficial to those in the community. He’s down from New York with his business partner who is visiting family in our neighboring town of Hartfield.
Putting my phone away after reading the message saying he arrived, I go to meet him at the front doors.
The lobby is bustling with people. The plants by the doors undulate each time the wind is let in accompanied by a wave of mid-August heat. Jeanie sits behind a white fold-out table with her tablet, checking people in alongside a parent volunteer. A man who looks to be in his thirties and is wearing a suit, sticking out like a sore thumb among all the adults in shorts and t-shirts, casually leans against the white brick walls by the water fountain.
“Mr. Welch.” I wave my hand and offer a smile as his attention lands on me. He smiles and waves back before meeting me in the center of the room under fluorescent lights. I stretch out my hand. “Glad you could make it.”
“This looks to be quite the facility you have here.” He shakes my hand.
“How about a tour before things kick off?”
He gestures outward with one hand while shoving the other in his pant pocket. “Lead the way.”
I take Mr. Welch through the office rooms, telling him about the seven full-time staff members I have on board. Next, we head toward the open gym where volunteers are setting up for various games and activities. We pause in the middle of the court. “Volunteers pull most of the weight around here. This place wouldn’t continue to exist without the many volunteers that come through. Parents, siblings, grandparents, college kids, you name it… We have a variety of people in this community ready and willing to help. It’s one of the many reasons I love the area.”
“Juniper Grove is a nice little town. Seems to be full of people who look after one another, so it does make me wonder where the need for a center like this came from if everyone is so kind and helpful.” Mr. Welch stares off in the distance, and I follow his gaze.
Lucy is holding her tablet and writing something down in the far corner by a “toss the bean bag into the trash can” carnival-type game. She pauses for a moment and taps the pen against her temple while she examines the game. Her hair is in a curled ponytail, her bangs straightened, and I can’t get over how doll-like she looks today.
I shift my eyes back to Mr. Welch. Apparently he can’t either …
Something churns inside me, and I clench my jaw. Guess I’ll be walking him over there next so he can meet my girlfriend.
“Walk with me,” I start. “As you already know, the Juniper Grove Community Center is a product of my capstone class in college. It was a little risky to choose such a project, but where is the fun in choosing the safe option?”
He laughs and nods in agreement.
I continue as we walk toward Lucy. “While we do have many supportive people here, it’s not like they can take in kids who aren’t thriving in a functional family. Believe me, there are many kids who fly under the radar. Kids you would never know experience abuse and are bullied and neglected. The center gives those kids a place to escape to, and it also gives people who wish to be of more assistance a place to gather and, well, assist the kids.”
Mr. Welch hums in thought as we approach Lucy. I sneak a glance at him, and his eyes are locked and loaded on my woman.
“Mr. Welch, I’d like you to meet my assistant director,” I slip an arm around Lucy’s waist as she locks her tablet and sets it on the table next to her, “and girlfriend, Lucy Spence. She was with me last month when I met with some local investors, so I wanted to make sure you got a chance to meet my lovely woman as well.”
Am I going overboard on laying my claim? Probably. But she’s mine.
His dark brown eyes flit between us, but his smile never falters. He offers his hand, and Lucy grabs it as she says it’s nice to meet him. Does anyone else hear the slight tremble in her voice? After a light shake, he brings her hand up to his —
I clear my throat and clench my fist at my side to keep from doing something I’d regret like bloodying those lips he’s placing on my woman’s knuckles.
Lucy nudges me, and I slowly drag my eyes from staring daggers into Keaton Welch’s skull to Lucy, who looks up at me with a pained expression. It’s then I realize my hand is molded around her hip, squeezing a little too hard.
I relax my grip but don’t dare drop my hand.
“You have a beautiful girlfriend, Mr. Harper,” he says, dropping her hand. Finally.
Flashing my teeth as I smile, I cock my head and answer in a low-pitched tone, “Don’t I know it. I sure am one lucky guy.”
I soften my smile and direct it at Lucy, but she’s locked in wide-eyed with the man in front of us.
“Why don’t we continue our tour, Mr. Welch?” I suggest, wanting to get him and his leering eyes away from her. I’m not too sure I want his investment money now, but I have to think of the needs of the center and not my own personal vendettas.
“I’ll see you later, Miss Spence,” he says with a slight bow and a faux tip of an invisible hat. Who even is this man? Acting like a remade regency side character in a Jane Austen novel or something… Jeez.
“Please, call me Lucy,” she says through a tight grin and a nervous laugh. Is he mistaking her nervous energy for cuteness?
“Lucy,” he says in what sounds like a seductive whisper. At least to my ears .
Enough of this. I stand straight and square my shoulders. “With all due respect, Mr. Welch, but would you please refrain from flirting with my girlfriend?”
His brown eyes cut to me, and his slender frame straightens to match me. “With all due respect, Mr. Harper, I was simply exchanging pleasantries with your girlfriend. Please do not mistake my kindness and gentlemanly mannerisms for flirting.” Before I can respond, he smooths the side of his styled brown hair and flicks his amused eyes to Lucy. “However, how she reacts to me is out of my control.”
Nope. Not on my watch. Not toward my girl and not in my beloved community center.
Right as I open my mouth to lay into this tool of a man, Lucy steps in front of me. “With all due respect, Mr. Welch, do not mistake my friendliness and ability to make those around me feel welcomed and seen as romantic interest in a knavish man such as yourself. I wasn’t aware you were throwing your hat into the investment ring, or I would have told my boyfriend,” she grabs my hand and looks up at me with purpose and passion in her eyes, “that you are as corrupt as they come in Wall Street.” She turns her attention back to him. “Do you know Emma Jane Williams?”
I snap my attention to him and watch as his eyes widen in horror.
Lucy hums. “That’s what I thought. You see, she’s a good friend of mine, and she’s told me all about how you and your partner, Mr. Frank Weston, have returned to this area in an attempt to pawn off your debts onto his father. It seems she forgot to send you off when she sent Frank Weston off. ”
If I was holding a microphone right now, I’d drop and applaud the beautiful and intelligent Lucy May. How in the world did she know about his financial woes and I didn’t?
“Right,” Mr. Welch stutters out. He checks his watch before hurriedly stating, “I better be on my way. I have another appointment to attend to.”
He half-jogs out of the gym, and once he’s out of the double doors, I embrace Lucy. “That was brilliant. You are brilliant.”
She wiggles out of my arms and tightens her ponytail. She averts her eyes downward, a shy smile forming. “It was nothing. Once I heard his name, I remembered Emma Jane ranting and raging last week over coffee about how Frank Weston almost got away with pawning his debt onto her friend Halle, who is married to Weston’s father. I was going to tell you in private after he left, but with that ridiculous, unwarranted comment of his, I couldn’t stand to not take his sorry butt down a notch or two.”
I chuckle and cross my arms, giving her a sideways grin. “More like a hundred notches. That was impressive. I was about to take up for you, but the way you handled him was so much more than what I could have said and done.”
She shrugs then picks up her tablet from the table. “We don’t want investors like that.”
“No, we don’t,” I echo, secretly liking the way she said “we” as if this place belongs to the both of us. As if her name is signed right alongside mine…
Hair rises on my arms at that thought, and my mood immediately shifts. Scratching at my arm, I scan the gym for something to do. Somewhere to go. “I better go check on things. Make sure he found his way out.”
Lucy smiles at me before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek and turning her attention to her tablet. “Of course. I’ll see you around. I need to check on the outdoor activities.”
She walks away, and as I watch her go, I wonder how in the world I can go from possessive boyfriend to acting like a skittish cat at the thought of something permanent such as owning a building with her. Trust issues run deep.
Maybe I should consider Stanton’s advice from a few days ago when I told him I was trying something real with Lucy. He told me to see a therapist.
Men don’t need no therapy, my brain says in a deep, old-western voice.
Right. I can get through this on my own. And even if I don’t and I end up losing Lucy, I’ll stay single after that for good. What I have with Lucy is fun, playful, passionate, and new. I’m terrified there will come a day when I am bored with her and will want to end things. I truly do not want to hurt her, which is why I suggested a fake relationship in the first place. No strings. No commitment.
But the woman has flirted and sassed her way right into my soul, so when she whispered she wanted something real with me within the confines of my childhood bedroom, I couldn’t resist. I shoved the fear deep down and jumped into the wind with her.
I only hope I can be the man she needs so I don’t crash and burn us.
“ A re you certain you don’t want a plate of crabs?” I ask Lucy with mock concern in my voice as she tells the waiter at Perry’s Seafood for the third time that she’ll take the fried shrimp meal.
Her hazel eyes darken as she glares at me, and I chuckle. After ordering a shrimp po-boy, I hand our menus to the older gentleman and feign an innocent expression at the woman sitting across from me.
“Are you trying to get on my bad side tonight?" I scoff.
“You have a good side?” She tosses a piece of bread at me then smiles as she looks away.
Over the past few days since our Back to School Bash at the center, she’s seemed to slip into one of her little down-and-out moods. It’s rare to get a genuine smile out of her, and even when I do, it’s not a full one. Something is plaguing her, but I don’t know how to ask.
“There’s that smile I enjoy,” I casually mention. She turns her attention back on me, but apparently that was not the right thing to say because she frowns. I clear my throat. I just need to man up and go for it. What’s it going to hurt if she doesn’t tell me? At least I did the proper boyfriend thing and checked in.
After taking a sip of sweet tea, I ask, “Lucy, is everything okay? You’ve looked a little down and out over the past few days.”
Her eyes glaze over as she picks at the piece of bread in her hands. “Yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Not sleeping well. ”
It’s a start…
“What’s causing your lack of sleep?” And because I can't help myself, I tack on with a wink, “Besides me.”
Silence stretches on as she looks anywhere but at me, her face reddened.
“Ha, ha,” she mocks. “Just busy with writing. I get sucked into my stories easily.”
“Hm. Are you sure that’s it?”
“Positive,” she says through a wavering smile.
It looks so fragile, her smile. I lean in and set my elbows on the table, resting my chin on top of my fists. “Lucy, you can talk to me, okay? I was kind of hoping we had some measure of trust between us.”
Her eyes narrow, an incredulous expression contorting her freckled face. “Trust? Is that why you still haven’t told me about what really happened between you and Lacey?”
My immediate reaction is to play defense, so I do. “How does she have anything to do with this? She’s in the past; I’ve told you this. I told you yesterday when you tried to ask about her in your little covert way by casually mentioning how she kept staring at me at Tate’s wedding.”
She leans onto the table, dropping her bread and matching my pose. Challenge dances in her eyes. “One, it was true. It happened. Two, I want to know why she looked at you as if you had ripped her heart out even though she’s a married woman. As your girlfriend, I have the right to know.”
“The past should stay in the past,” I dismiss, sitting back and fixing my attention on the taxidermied hammerhead shark hanging above the entrance of the small seafood restaurant. I wish I could die and stuff myself right now to get out of this conversation.
Silence stretches on between us, only the chatter of the few families in the seating area around us.
“Stone, if you want me to trust you enough to let you into my private life, then you have to trust me to let me into yours. Trust goes both ways. And don’t worry. I know you didn’t hurt her. I’m sorry for saying that. I know she hurt you, and I’d like to know what happened simply so that I can understand you better.”
In the middle of her monologue, my eyes betrayed me and shifted back to her. In fact, my entire body straightened and tuned into her.
Has a woman ever mentioned that she’d like to understand me?
Not one that I can remember…
I search her expression, and it’s genuine. There’s no trace of feigned interest in me just to get me to do whatever she wants. There’s no sign of her pretending to want to know the real me just so she can turn around and use it against me.
Just… authentic curiosity and concern.
Am I ready to take that leap?
No, not a leap. It’s a small step. A toe across the safeguard line I’ve worked on keeping in place for years. If I want something real with Lucy, then I have to let her in. At least a peek inside. A therapist doesn’t have to tell me that much…
“I proposed to Lacey the night of graduation. And she said no.” I evaluate Lucy’s expression, but her face doesn’t so much as twitch. “It’s the way she told me that hurts the most.”
The memory comes back in full force: my clammy hands reaching into my jacket pocket to pull out my class ring. I was going to take her to the ring shop to pick out her own ring the very next day if she would have let me. The humid air and pent-up nerves made it difficult to breathe as I took Lacey’s hand and slid down onto one knee. When my eyes met hers, I knew something was off. But I was already kneeling, and the wet grass was already soaking through my pants, dampening my knee.
“After I laid my heart bare to her, she looked at me with something worse than an expression of sadness. She pitied me. Asked me to stand up. Placed her hand on my arm and looked me in the eyes as she told me she was glad she had spent the last couple of years with me but it was time for us both to grow up and move on. Said she wanted to go off to college as a free woman and live her life. Maybe meet an older man.” A familiar ache settles in my chest, but to my surprise, it’s not as forceful as it once was. Not even as forceful as the time Lacey stopped us outside the restaurant. As I lift my gaze from my twiddling fingers to Lucy, I realize she’s the reason why. Her openness, honesty, realness, and boldness captivate me. She’s quite the woman, and I think I—
I think I want to continue trying this relationship with her. Maybe if it’s Lucy, it’ll be easier for me. I guess it’s a waiting game.
“For what it’s worth,” Lucy says in a soft tone as she tucks her hands under the table, “She’s missing out on a kind, honest, smart, and stupidly flirty man.”
I laugh at her last statement, and that seems to break the built up tension. Our food arrives, and we dig in, eating in comfortable silence .
About halfway through the meal, I take another shot at figuring out what’s going on with my date. Which means another moment of vulnerability for me tonight. “In baseball, we have this term called beaning, or throwing a beanball. It basically means that the pitcher throws the ball at the batter with the intention to hurt him.”
Lucy stares at me with a scrunched nose and narrowed eyes, most likely wondering where I’m going with this. I release a breath, thinking over my next words.
“One of the reasons I hide my scars is because I’m scared that someone will use them against me. They will bean me with them, so to say. Especially a woman who is remotely older than me.” I give Lucy a pointed look before continuing. “After Lacey rejected my proposal, I went home and cried for the second time that I could remember, the first time being when my father passed away. I couldn’t sleep, so I texted her and told her that I didn’t buy into her reasoning. I demanded to know the truth from her. It didn’t make sense to me, you know, why she would reject me after we had dated for so long. After all the plans we had made.”
I pause to take a sip of tea and collect my thoughts so as not to ramble on. Lucy casually continues eating, not pressing me to hurry. She’s letting me go at my pace.
Who knew actually talking about it with someone who isn’t interrupting or trying to offer sympathy would be… therapeutic? Is that the right word?
See? I don’t need a therapist. I just need to talk to Lucy.
Why didn’t I do this sooner ?
“She agreed to meet me, and we went up into this old treehouse behind the house that my sister and her ex-boyfriend—who is her husband now, as you know—would sneak off to sometimes. I remember the ladder cracking under my weight as I climbed, but it didn’t break. Lacey was already there, waiting for me. She had this blank expression on her face, and I could only see it because of the sliver of moonlight shining through the open windows. I wish I hadn’t.
“I asked her once again to give me the truth, and she said words that still haunt me sometimes. She said, ‘I can’t marry a man who is younger than I am, even if it’s only by a few months, and can’t present me with a diamond ring. That’s not a real man. I don’t think I ever truly loved you, Stone. You’re not enough for me.’ Then she left after throwing that huge beanball at me. I never bothered to tell her that I saved up enough money to buy her a diamond ring by working jobs around the neighborhood on top of my full-time school and sports schedules.”
Lucy and I stare at each other for a solid minute. She slowly chews on a french fry, and I attempt to work out the “why” behind not feeling shameful and emasculated as I often felt when I recalled that moment of my life.
Suddenly, Lucy grins and tosses the darkened end of the french fry onto her plate. “Please tell me you went and spent the money on some flashy watch for yourself or maybe put it toward a new vehicle or motorcycle. And tell me you flaunted it in front of her.”
Laughter overtakes me and all the uneasiness I felt at sharing this story with her vanishes. I bite my bottom lip before admitting to what I used the money for. “Lucy May, I pocketed that money and it became the foundation of the start-up funds for the Juniper Grove Community Center.”
This gets a reaction out of her.
Her lips part and eyes widen as her cup halts midair, her straw inches from her face.
I reach across the table and guide her drink to her mouth. She swats me away with a sound of disbelief. “Really? You kept it that long. You didn’t even try to get even with her or show her what a mistake she made?”
I smirk. “I think she might have had an inkling that she made a mistake when she saw the pretty redhead on my arm over a couple of months ago. And again when I brought her home. What do you think?”
The compliment seems to go over her as she hums. “Yeah, probably so. Her reaction to you makes so much sense now. And how she watched you at the wedding. Watched us. It all makes sense.” She takes a sip of her water with lemon. “And I’m sorry I joked about our two-year age gap. I swear it was all in good fun. That truly doesn’t matter to me.”
I wave her off, knowing good and well she didn’t mean any harm by it. I know her to be above that kind of nonsense.
But I still want to know more about her…
“All right, Little Lion. I’ve told you about my past and scars. It’s your turn. I promise not to beanball you with the information you tell me tonight.”
Her shoulders raise just a hair, and she presses her lips together as if in thought. “I’m not too worried you will use it against me. I’m more worried you’ll throw me in the psych ward. ”
“Baby girl, if I put you in the psych ward, I’ll be rooming with you.” She laughs and rolls her eyes at my words. “Go on. Tell me what’s worrying your pretty little head.”
Lucy takes a sip of her drink before clearing her throat. “It’s stupid, really. Ever since Hadley went and got married, Karoline got married and moved, and now my sister moved and is about to tie the knot in December, I feel left behind. Rejected. Burdensome.” She pauses, but by her contemplative expression, I know she’s not finished. After a few seconds, she huffs and meets my eyes. “Lonely. I’m very lonely. Not to mention Hadley is now pregnant. It’s like everyone’s life is moving forward except mine.”
For the sake of not knowing what to do with her admission or what to do with the emptiness in her eyes, I feign being stabbed in the heart. “Oof, Lucy May. You’re lonely even while dating me?” Maybe I was too preemptive. I thought she might be upset over something not working out with her writing career or friend drama. I didn’t think it would be this deep. And not going to lie, it kind of stings that she’s lonely even while dating me.
Lucy adjusts the light beige shirt she’s wearing, then places one arm across her chest, holding on to the elbow of her other arm. She looks down, not bothering to laugh at my joke. I can’t blame her. After what she confessed to me, that definitely wasn’t the appropriate response.
But I don’t know what is, so… humor attempts it is.
“Actually, the loneliness hasn’t been so bad since we started this. ” She gestures between us with a small grin that still doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “So thank you for your wacky suggestion to be each other’s designated date. It’s led to something I never expected with you. Never allowed myself to hope for.”
Her words warm me to my core, but they also terrify me. What if I mess it all up? The feelings I have for her only seem to be growing stronger, and what if I can’t be enough?
Shaking the thoughts off, I lean back in my chair and place my hands behind my head, making sure I flex. She had a male character do this in a book, and now it’s time to see if it works in real life.
It does.
Her eyes immediately land on my arm before shifting to look at the other. She blushes but then stifles a giggle, covering her mouth with one hand.
“What is it, Lucy May?” I ask in a deep, flirty tone.
She stares me right in the eyes as she smirks and says, “Nice pit stains you’ve got going on there.”
I drop my arms, hitting the edge of the wooden seat with one hand when I do. I hold back from making a pained noise, but when her giggle gives way to a full-blown laugh, I decide I’ll sport pit stains every single day if it means she’ll smile like that.
Full white teeth. Crinkles in the corners of her eyes. A boisterous sound emerging from somewhere within the depths of her belly.
I may not be able to emotionally meet her right now because I need time to process the depth of what she told me, but if I can at least make her smile and laugh when she’s feeling so low, then I’ll take the win.
We continue eating, talking, and cracking jokes at each other’s expense. She drove herself to the restaurant tonight because she needed to spend tonight alone (and we all know I would have followed her inside whichever place we ended up at if we would have ridden together), so when it’s time to go, I hold her outside her car for a little bit longer than I normally do. The seafood smell of the restaurant lingers in her hair, and while it isn’t a pleasant scent, I can still pick up the undertones of her spicy vanilla perfume. She’s warm in my arms, and I wish I had comforting words for her before she drives back to her apartment where she’ll spend another night alone, lost in her dark thoughts.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come over and stay with you tonight?” I play with her hair as she sighs deeply, her chest rising and falling against me.
“I don’t know, Stone.” She pulls back, her hands sliding from my back to my stomach. “I’m just… sad. I don’t want to bring you into my mournful midnight.”
Her eyes are round and pleading, begging for me to see something. To say something. But I don’t know what she needs. Does she even know what she needs?
After a moment, she sighs deeply again, turning away from me and getting into her car.
Maybe I should go over anyway. Just to be sure she’s okay…
Is that what she truly wants? I don’t know. She said she wants to be alone, but it sounds like the aloneness is self-induced because she doesn’t want her sadness rubbing off on me.
Frustrated that I don’t know how to make this better and I want to respect her wishes to be alone tonight, I get into my truck and slam the door, beginning the short drive to my house.
From the small bit she’s told me tonight and the little comments she makes in a humorous manner though the content is black, Lucy was right that one day when she told me that I might run screaming if I knew what went on inside her head.
Key word: might.
Because instead of scaring me off, I think she’s creating a black hole around me that’s continually sucking me in deeper and deeper.