Chapter Six #2
There wasn’t a single soul Nick would admit it to, but he’d spent some time over the last week imagining what it would be like to have Lucy in his bed.
Of course, when he was in the shower or trying to sleep at night, Lucy wasn’t wearing his favorite hoodie—or anything at all—and he was in the bed with her.
Nick looked at her, stretched out on his bed and so soundly sleeping she hadn’t heard him come in, and felt a pang of sympathy.
The couch was reasonably comfortable to sit on, but Nick had tried stretching out on it once while watching a movie, and it wasn’t great.
Sleeping on it night after night had to be getting to her, and he couldn’t blame Lucy for sneaking a decent nap while he was out.
He needed to stop dragging his feet and finish up the small bedroom. Because he was usually tired after a workday, he’d been picking and choosing from the variety of tasks he wanted to complete for Helen, but he had to get Lucy off that couch so she could get a decent night’s sleep.
He thought about sending a text to the group chat with his brothers, asking for help. The four of them could have Lucy moved into the bedroom in no time.
But Beck would have his hands full with the kids. Theo would be doing water training with the fire department this week and would be exhausted. And Gray was already stressed about them falling behind on the Brock remodel. He’d be in a mood and Nick didn’t want to hear it.
Rather than bother any of them, he’d just work harder. If he hustled during the day, maybe he could cut out a little early. And he could work on it longer after supper each night.
Nick was about to back out of the room and quietly close the door when he realized Lucy’s pretty blue eyes were staring at him. She was awake, but barely, and she blinked a few times before her eyes widened and she sat up.
“Sorry. I wasn’t hiding under the blankets, though. I haven’t been sleeping well at night, and I was just going to put your sweatshirt on the bed and…it was too tempting to resist.”
“It’s not the most comfortable couch ever.”
“It’s the quiet, mostly. It’s so dark and quiet here, like being smothered by a thick, dark blanket.”
“Wouldn’t you like that?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s different—almost like claustrophobia.”
“Have you tried leaving the TV on? It’s got noise, flickering lights. Put on a movie set in Vegas and you’ll probably be asleep in no time.”
“I don’t want to disturb your sleep, since you’re the one with a job and a reason to get up in the morning.”
“Once I’m out, it takes a lot to wake me up. I’m a heavy sleeper.”
“Unless a woman sneaks into the cottage in the middle of the night.”
He snorted. “It is reassuring to know I won’t sleep through a little breaking and entering.”
“For the record, I didn’t break anything. I just entered.”
“That’s valid. I grabbed a steak and some potatoes to grill on my way home.”
“Sounds good.” She smoothed the wrinkles out of the sheets and put the sweatshirt she must have laundered on top of the rocking chair pile.
“Your car was here, so I thought you might be out back, but when I went to fire up the grill, you weren’t there. I thought you might be walking out on the beach, but when I came in to plug in my phone, you were all Goldilocks in the bed.”
She laughed as she followed him to the kitchen. “It was definitely just right.”
Lucy washed and diced the potatoes while Nick seasoned the steak. Then, after she’d loaded the potatoes into a tin foil packet along with a probably unhealthy amount of butter and garlic salt, they took it all outside.
Before Helen left, Nick had brought out her patio furniture, though it was in the yard and not on the rickety deck he’d be replacing.
It was one of the ornate, black metal sets, with an umbrella that went through the center of the table, and four café-style chairs.
He hadn’t bothered bringing out the umbrella or chair cushions because spring was still happening, but it worked as is.
Since it would be a bit before they needed plates and everything else, he sat in one of the chairs across from Lucy while the steak and potatoes worked up a good sizzle.
“Since a ton of tourists come here in the summer, there must be a lot of seasonal jobs, right?” she asked him.
“Some, yeah. It works out well for the high school kids and the college kids who come home for the summer.”
“Oh.”
Her brow furrowed, and he realized something about his answer had disappointed her. “Are you looking for a seasonal job?”
“I don’t know how long I’ll stay after Gran comes home, but I won’t leave until we’ve had a nice visit. I need to work, but I don’t want to take a permanent position from somebody who’s looking for long-term employment, you know?”
“That makes sense.” He wasn’t sure if a woman who’d been working in Las Vegas understood the pay scale for the jobs typically held by young people in a small town in Maine, coastal or not.
It was tempting to ask about her financial situation, but he was afraid to open that door to another person who’d expect to rely on him. “What are your skills?”
She thought about it for a moment. “Remembering drink orders. Carrying trays loaded with cocktails while dodging handsy men. Deescalating angry customers. Oh, and doing it all in high heels while smiling, of course.”
“Okay.” She wasn’t giving him a lot to work with. “Anything else?”
“Some random miscellaneous skills, I guess, but those are the relevant ones.”
“Did you have a long-term goal? Were you planning to do that job forever?”
“Of course not.” Her mouth twisted as anger flared, surprising him. “Even though I was one of the best on the floor, my boss was already making some noise about transitioning me to the management team because of my age.”
“Being promoted is usually a good thing. It means you’re good at your job, and wouldn’t that mean more money?”
“Not with the tips I made. I probably would have made less in the long run. And I don’t want to manage people. I liked what I was doing.”
He could believe that. “So if you didn’t plan to be a server forever, but you didn’t want to be a manager, what was the plan?”
Pink flooded her cheeks and neck. “I’ve been saving up to move to Miami.”
Nick was proud of himself for holding back a full-body shudder. “Miami?”
“Is there anything better than sunshine, beaches and a big city?”
When it came to cities, Nick could think of a lot of things that were better. Muscle cramps. Burgers with no cheese. The fridge and dryer dying in the same month.
“But Miami?”
“My friend Sydney—who I worked with for years—moved there when she got married. She’s an event planner, and she’s been after me to join her business as a mixologist to design signature cocktails for the events. I’m really good at it, actually.”
If he was lucky, maybe Lucy would head for Miami before the heat crackling between them sparked something they’d both regret. “Have you told Sydney you’re currently unemployed and on the road, so it’s the perfect time for a fresh start?”
Lucy looked down, suddenly obsessed with making sure the strings of her hoodie were hanging equally on each side.” No.”
“Are you not excited about it?”
“Sure. But I came all this way to see Gran, you know? It would be wrong to leave without seeing her, especially since Miami’s far away and I’ll be finding a place to live and jumping into business. Who knows how long it’ll be before I come back.”
That made sense, but he could tell by the way she wouldn’t meet his eyes there was more. “And?”
“And I want to let the whole Vegas thing die down a little first.”
“Confirming that job is still a viable option is the logical first step in a plan.”
She glared at him, blowing out a breath. “Thank you, Mister Action Steps, but I’ve had a lot of doors slammed in my face over the last almost two months and I can’t… If I reach out to Sydney and she wants nothing to do with my mess, I’ll have nothing. I just need a little time.”
“It’s not your mess,” Nick said firmly, anger flaring as he thought of all the people who should have had her back but didn’t.
“It is my mess because the one thing that guy didn’t do was tell the world I didn’t know who he was and that I’m just an innocent bystander. He’d rather they assume poor Reese was seduced by some woman they should target all of their rage at, instead.”
Nick made a growling sound but said nothing as he got up and flipped the steak. Then he flipped over the potato packet and gave it a good shake before closing the lid of the grill again.
“What about you? If you didn’t have to live here and keep the family business going, what would you do?” she asked.
He shrugged, not liking to talk about his dead dreams, but he knew she wouldn’t give up that easily. “I don’t have to live here. I choose to, and it’s a good life.”
“But did you always want to take over the construction company? I know you’re the oldest, but you do have brothers. Was there something else you wanted to be when you grew up?”
“Football.” The word slipped out before he could stop it.
“A football player? Like a professional one?” She scowled. “I’m not really a fan of football players.”
Nick had forgotten a quarterback was the reason she was in Wayward Harbor right now, and he winced. “What did you want to be?”
“When I was little, I wanted to be a penguinologist in Antarctica.”
“Is penguinologist actually a word?”
“Yes, it is, thank you very much.”
He cast a pointed glance at the way she was snuggled into his hoodie. “Do you know how cold it is in Antarctica?”
“Hey, I’m acclimating. I’m not even wrapped in a blanket right now.” She sighed. “Anyway, back to you. I think most boys want to be athletes when they grow up. Football. Baseball. All the other sports balls.”