Chapter 18 Lucy #2
“Ughhh,” I groan and squirm in my seat.
I watch Marsh coming out of the gas station, swirling his hands together with hand sanitizer. I huff and swing the door open, shutting it harder than I expected, and meet him in front of the car.
“Kiss me,” I demand.
He blinks. “What?”
“Kiss me,” I repeat.
He lets out a little laugh like I’m not being so dead serious right now.
“Oh.” He stops. “You’re not joking?”
“No.” I pivot and lean on my other leg.
“I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to—”
“Yeah, I thought so too but we’re going to have to kiss at some point, right? And I don’t want to be caught off guard in front of your friends and family. So, let’s just do it now.”
“Lucy, I’m not kissing you in front of a gas station.”
Marsh tries to take a step past me, but I stop him.
“Well, you’re not kissing me for the first time tonight. So, deal with it.”
We look at each other, and it’s pretty clear that I’m not budging until we do this.
“Fine,” he says.
Wait, did he just say fine?
Before I can clarify, he takes a step closer.
One hand cups the side of my face, while the other wraps around the small of my back, pressing my body against his.
His lips tentatively hover over mine, and then he softly kisses me.
It’s tender, but my body melts into his.
I feel like molten glass on a blowpipe, slowly being shaped.
He’s pulling me in and yet I can’t get enough of him.
This is a real fucking kiss. It feels like a centrifugal motion. This is what Faith Hill was talking about.
After what feels like not nearly long enough, Marsh pulls back and quickly sucks his lips in.
“Anything else?” he asks.
“N-no…” I say softly. “I think we’re good.”
He nods and then makes his way back to the driver’s side of the car.
Oh, we are so not good right now. Fuck.
For the next fifteen minutes, Marsh doesn’t bring up the kiss.
I certainly don’t bring up the kiss.
So, we don’t talk about the kiss.
But I think about the kiss.
I think about how there’s no way in hell Marsh is that good of a kisser. It was because he caught me off guard, because I wasn’t expecting it. Any kiss could feel good at that point, right?
I need another test. I need to kiss Marsh again.
I pull up my messages and text Jonah.
Lucy:
We kissed.
Jonah:
***
Jonah:
That was quick.
Jonah:
What happened?
Lucy:
I asked him to kiss me.
Jonah:
Of course you did. How was it?
Lucy:
Perfect?
Lucy:
I just asked him to kiss me like a lunatic and he did like a lunatic. It was while he was getting gas.
Jonah:
You made out at a gas station? Hot.
Lucy:
We didn’t even make out! He barely touched my lips and now I’m horny??
Jonah:
I mean, Marsh gives *good kisser*
Lucy:
Does he??
“Is that still work?” Marsh asks. “Tell them it’s the weekend.”
“Oh, uh,” I nervously laugh. “It’s just Jonah. I’m helping him with something.”
Jonah:
Yeah, idk. It’s a vibe. I can’t explain it.
Jonah:
If you two hook up just please be careful.
Lucy:
We’re not hooking up.
Annoyed, I shove my phone in my purse on the floor mat. Jonah means well and is only trying to look out for me, but I’m more than capable of making my own decisions and knowing what I should and shouldn’t be careful of.
There are too many factors in the way of just letting Marsh and me develop whatever this kind of relationship is the way it was meant to be.
Maybe we’re meant to just be friends, or co-workers, or friends with benefits.
But with this story, this wedding, and everyone’s voice in my ear telling me what to do and not to do, there’s no way I’ll ever know for sure.
I decide to clear out the noise and just trust myself, and trust Marsh.
Before twelve-thirty p.m., we pull into a gorgeous gravel driveway.
It leads to a midcentury home tucked behind the trees in Los Gatos.
The exterior is a black shiplap and there are beautiful bright wood accents surrounding it.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but knowing that Marsh’s brother is an architect, this all makes sense.
“This is stunning,” I say, admiring the home against the bright blue sky.
There are only two cars in the driveway, meaning we’re one of the first ones to arrive, which makes me feel a little nervous. I was expecting to sort of blend in with the crowd, but now there’s no hiding.
“Hey.” Marsh turns the car off and looks at me. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them into the front of his shirt. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Yeah, of course,” I lie.
“Because I can always drop you off at the hotel and come back—”
“Do you not want me to come?” I ask.
“No, of course I want you to come.” He looks at the house in front of us. “I just, I don’t know, it was one thing to talk about all of this and now that we’re here…it’s real. And I don’t want to put you in a situation where you’re uncomfortable.”
This is unfamiliar to me. Someone wanting to put my feelings ahead of theirs.
Having someone anticipate and notice my slightest doubts and having that mean something to them.
What’s also new is my noticing that maybe Marsh isn’t saying this for my sake, but that maybe he’s nervous.
Maybe he doesn’t always have to look out for me. Maybe I can look out for him too.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” I say, my anxiousness dissipating. “I mean, I’m a little nervous. Meeting anyone’s family, regardless of the situation, is still a big deal. But I promise I want to be here. I want to be here for you.”
One corner of Marsh’s mouth curls into a smirk that I find undeniably sexy. “Okay,” he says. “Thank you.”
“Now, can I say something?” I ask. “Before we go inside?”
“Anything.”
“What was that? Outside the gas station.”
Marsh frowns, confused. “A kiss?”
“Yeah, but like, what the hell?”
His eyes then go wide and he moves back, defensively. “Wait, Lucy, you asked—no, demanded—that I kiss you.”
“It’s not the fact that you kissed me,” I counter. “It’s the way you kissed me. Is that how you kiss?”
“I mean, considering that’s how I kissed you…yes,” Marsh says like I asked the most obvious question.
“Well, knock it off,” I say. “You can’t kiss me like that in front of your family.”
“Why not?”
“Because it makes it hard to focus. It’s been like two hours and I’m still suffering the effects,” I say, and Marsh lets out a laugh. “Stop, it’s not funny!” I swat his arm.
“Well, uh,” he glances around, assuring we have our privacy. “The more we do it, you might get used to it.”
I look up at him, and there’s a mischievous yet charming look in his eyes.
“You think?” I ask, picking up what he’s putting down.
“Oh yeah.” Marsh gives an assuring nod. “Positive.”
There’s that heat again deep in my belly, an ember that only catches whenever Marsh looks at me like he wants to be much closer than we are.
“You’re trouble.” I poke his chest, moving him back.
“How?” he asks defensively.
“We’re about to go to a child’s birthday party!” I stifle a laugh. “Behave.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, and we both get out of the car.
As we approach the front door that looks to be well over ten feet with glass panes on the side, I admire the quietness of where we are.
There are tall trees surrounding us, and although it’s a warm day, the shade offers a refreshing coolness.
I quickly fluff my hair and blow a breath to my palm, then smell.
“Do I look okay?” I whisper to Marsh.
“Always.”
Moments later, a woman with strawberry blond hair and an abundance of strikingly beautiful freckles opens the door. She’s wearing a white oversize linen dress that makes her look like she should be in a photoshoot in the countryside.
“Marsh!” The woman wraps her arms around Marsh in a way that feels so comfortable. “Lucy, it’s so nice to meet you!” She then wraps her arms around me, and I catch a whiff of a light flowery scent.
“You must be Quinn. It’s so nice to meet you!” I say. “Your home is gorgeous.”
We’re now standing inside a breathtaking home, filled with redwood throughout. Everything feels so concise, harmonious, and intentional. There are floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of only the forest that surrounds the exterior. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a home so unique.
“Thank you so much.” She looks around. “Ollie and I designed it back in 2020. It was our little pandemic baby…aside from our actual pandemic baby.”
“Speaking of,” Marsh says, “where is the birthday girl?”
“Saaadiee!” Quinn calls out. “Sadie, guess who’s here!”
Suddenly, there are little yet loud footsteps running from down the hall.
“Uncle Marsh?!” A little girl appears at the end of the hall, heading straight for us.
“There she is!” Marsh lifts her up so high and so effortlessly. My heartstrings briefly twist at the sight of them. I then remember the story Marsh shared about the daughter he lost, but I don’t allow myself to dwell on it. “Happy birthday, Dee Dee!”
“It’s tomorrow,” Sadie laughs.
“Well, the great thing about having your birthday fall on a Sunday is that you get to accept birthday wishes on that Saturday,” he says. “Isn’t that right, Luce?”
“Those are the rules,” I agree.
“Hi.” Sadie waves at me. She’s wearing yellow denim overalls, and her hair is in two pigtails. “I’m Sadie.”
“Hello, Sadie, it’s so nice to meet you,” I say. “I’m Lucy.”
“There’s a girl in my class named Lucy,” Sadie says.
“Her parents have excellent taste,” I say.
“Did you lose two teeth?” Marsh adjusts Sadie in his arms, getting a better look at her.
“Mhm.” Her face brightens as she shows her missing two front teeth. “Uncle Marsh told me that the tooth fairy steals my teeth because she doesn’t have a home.”
I look at him. “What?!”
“She’s bending the truth a little bit,” he says.
“Are you Uncle Marsh’s new girlfriend?” Sadie asks, and Marsh and I look at each other.
“Yes, Sadie.” Marsh puts her down. “Are you very perceptive or did you already know that?”
“Mom and Dad said it this morning.” Sadie smiles and then Quinn gives us an awkward shrug. “I don’t know what percentage means.”
“Perceptive,” Marsh corrects her. “It means you have a hunch for things.”