10. Chapter 10 – Lucy
I ’d promised myself I wouldn’t get tangled up again. Not like this.
He looked at me with those puppy dog eyes, and I couldn’t deny him. Or myself.
“I’m a sucker for cheese curds.”
Or just a sucker.
“Not an answer, Lucifer.”
“If you’re paying attention, it is.”
“Am I cheese curds in this scenario?”
“You should be so lucky.”
He grinned. “I am . Good thing I am not offended in the least, being compared to hot cheese.”
I opened my mouth to refute him, but he held up a palm. “Let me have this, Lucy. Let me be your cheesy, hot boyfriend, if just for tonight.”
Something in me went liquid, a streak of lightning running through my chest, hearing him call himself my boyfriend.
It was followed by a surge of cold that twisted my gut in a strong jerk.
Two dates did not make a boyfriend. And braving a new relationship wouldn’t make me weak. It didn’t have to be like last time.
Maybe he read the apprehension on my face. He flexed both palms as if gentling a horse. “Whoa. Pretend I said man-friend instead.”
“Because you’re not a boy?”
“Because I’m into you, but your face says we’re moving too fast.”
“You wish you were in me.”
Shutting up was free, and yet I kept digging a deeper hole. My damned mouth. It acted like it knew things my heart wasn’t ready for. And maybe it did. Clay seemed utterly unbothered that he’d admitted to feelings for me and I’d turned it into a joke.
“I said into you. But also, yes.” His grin was charming enough to make me forget what we were arguing about. And why were we arguing? The man wanted to buy me dinner.
“Fine. I’m hungry. I’ll meet you there.”
I needed a second alone to breathe. To pretend this wasn’t spiraling into something I couldn’t stop. Keeping that sliver of independence shouldn’t have mattered so much, but driving myself was also practical.
We’d just sat down at the brewery with our menus when Clay’s radio squawked. “Ranger Robertson, Dispatch.”
Clay frowned and reached for his radio. “Dispatch, go ahead.”
“We have report of lost hikers near Young Hill. Ranger Chen is asking you to join her at British Camp and help coordinate Search and Rescue.”
The name was familiar. I was pretty sure she was another one of Rae’s cousins. It was impossible to pretend like I wasn’t eavesdropping.
“On my way. Ranger Robertson, clear.”
Clay’s game face was one I hadn’t really seen before. Gone was the cheerful goofball I’d spent the evening with. In his place, a serious mountain of a man stood, strong and ready for action.
“Let me guess: you need to head out?”
The urge to say pick me wasn’t even remotely appropriate in this situation, but it didn’t stop the pang of disappointment that he had to leave before we’d even ordered dinner.
He nodded. “I need to help run the search.”
It was the right answer. Still, it pressed on the tender spot I kept pretending wasn’t there.
“Say hi to Rae and the other SAR volunteers for me. Do you need me to cover anything here?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Just get dinner and miss me. Rain check?”
“Go take care of business, Robertson.”
He sketched a quick salute, one corner of his mouth hitching up. “You got it, Luce.”
The urge to kiss him goodbye was silly. But it didn’t stop me from popping out of my chair and wrapping around him in an impulsive hug.
I’d underestimated his size. He was built so broad that it was difficult to wrap my arms around his shoulders.
I lost my balance, tipping into his chest, forcing him to take my full weight.
His hands branded my hips, sending a wash of heat thrumming beneath my skin.
He handled me easily, steadying me with a quick grin.
“Good luck. I hope everyone makes it back safely.”
If he teased me over how breathless I sounded, I’d deny it.
“You gonna kiss me goodbye?” he asked instead.
The twinkle in his eyes sent a flare of competitiveness overriding the last of my good sense. His mouth was soft beneath mine. I could feel his smile against my lips as he kissed me back, the caress all too brief. I took a shaky breath, trying to hide how much I wanted to kiss him again.
He’d meant to provoke me, and I’d let him win. It was only a peck on the lips. Nothing special. And if I kept telling myself that, maybe I’d believe it.
“Be good, Lucifer.”
I snorted. It was like he didn’t know me at all. I watched through the window as he loped to his truck, his long strides eating up the space between him and his vehicle.
Becca appeared at my elbow, order pad in hand. “Change of plans?” She gestured to Clay’s empty chair. “You scared him away already?”
I lifted one shoulder. “Not every man wants to hear that you plan to buy him a toaster for his bathtub.”
“That might be more believable if I hadn’t seen you kiss him on his way out the door.”
“He got called out for a work emergency.” And before he’d had dinner. “I’ll get him his usual burger to go. What else travels well?” I asked, glancing down at the menu.
After placing an order that would feed us and the SAR volunteers, I carried the bags of food out to the car. For all I’d resisted calling him my boyfriend, it didn’t get more couple-y than bringing him food at work.
I could do something nice for him and not become a doormat. I could. Past wasn’t present. It didn’t define my future. I wasn’t a na?ve twenty-something any longer. Bringing Clay dinner didn’t imply I was signing up to let him walk all over me.
Just because I couldn’t stop thinking about a simple kiss didn’t make me weak.
The parking lot at British Camp was full of familiar vehicles. Rae’s car, Lee’s and Drew’s trucks partially filled the lot. San Juan County was small enough to rely on volunteers to help fill critical roles to support emergency services like Search and Rescue and my friends were all volunteers.
A generator powered lights in one corner of the lot, and they’d erected a pop-up tent over the command station. Clay stood over a table, easily distinguishable by his height. A few people I recognized from the sheriff’s office and fire department clustered around him.
I stood just outside the glow cast by the lights, food bags in hand.
Clay looked calm, exchanging information with search teams over his radio, marking on what was probably a map. His commanding presence kept the crew around him humming.
As if he sensed my presence, Clay looked up, catching me staring. I shifted from one foot to the other, hoisting my bags. “I brought food.”
His rough features softened, some of the strain around his eyes easing. That brief moment of connection made me glad I’d yielded to the impulse to take care of him.
“Marry me.”
His gruff proposal froze me in place. For a flash, I wanted his words to be real. But this was the game we played. I smoothed my features.
“I don’t take orders. I barely take suggestions.”
He winked. “Someday, Lucifer. I’m going to catch you in a weak moment.”
I straightened my shoulders. I’d been weak once. Never again. “It’ll never happen, Robertson. Quit fooling around, or I’m spitting on your burger.”
Something danced in his eyes. An emotion I didn’t want to name.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to bring dinner,” he said, returning to the guise of the calm park ranger, completely in charge of his feelings and everything around him.
“But I wanted to.” It hurt to admit it, but it was true. I didn’t need him to turn me into a sap. I was doing just fine on my own. That was the unique power of Clayton Robertson: he could charm the devil herself.
A woman I recognized from the fire department helped me clear a spot for my bags. I handed Clay his burger, then arranged the popcorn, pub pretzels, and other snacks before diving into my dinner.
“Still no sign of the hikers?” I asked as Clay wolfed down his burger.
“No. We’re searching grid-by-grid. Shouldn’t be long now.”
Something about the grim way he said it opened a pit in my stomach. Like he didn’t expect a happy ending. It was easy to forget the dark side of managing public parks. Not every visit resulted in photos of smiling families with tired legs.
“VIP Murphy, Command.” I recognized our friend Lee’s deep voice over the radio, tensing.
“Go ahead, VIP Murphy.”
“We have the Douglas family. Heading back to base now.”
Clay’s expression eased. “Everyone’s able to move under their own power?”
“Affirmative. Mr. Douglas is moving slow, probably an ankle strain, but you can call everyone in.”
“Command, clear.” Clay spent the next few minutes calling in the other search teams.
I faded back, heading for my car and home. Clay didn’t need me in his way. He had work to do.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the new side of Clay I’d witnessed.
I’d grown used to seeing him in uniform.
Watching him interact with park visitors and with my art class.
He was always easy-going. Affable. Tonight, I’d gotten to see a different side to him.
Authoritative but calm. More than the flirt who kept proposing to tease me.
First, he’d tempted me into kissing him. Now, I was tempted to take him seriously. Not as a husband. But as a man. One who made my pulse race, who made me want to abandon my carefully chosen rules about dating again. One I wanted to high-five with my genitals.
The thought alone should have had me pumping the brakes. My reservations hadn’t disappeared. Dating someone I’d have to see over and over if things went south would suck. The fear was still there. Lurking. But every minute spent with Clay made that voice in my head less convincing.
When I was with Clay, I was really living. In the moment. Teasing. Matching wits. He challenged me without flinching when I bit back, letting him see the jagged edges, not just the carefully sanded and polished bits.
I had spent years guarding my heart, convinced that letting someone else in meant losing a part of myself. But with Clay? It didn’t feel like surrender. It felt like possibility. Like maybe I didn’t have to choose between being strong and being myself. Maybe I could have both.