32. Lucy
thirty-two
Lucy
The snap of a twig as someone walks past our tent has my eyes flying open.
But I’m far too warm and comfortable to move, which is an odd occurrence for a camping trip.
Usually, I’m too cold, too hot, or aching because the air mattress deflated during the night.
This is by far the most comfortable I’ve ever been in a tent.
Nate’s chest rises and falls in a deep breath beneath me, and I freeze.
Slowly, my gaze drifts to his chest under my cheek as I register his arms around me—one under my head and wrapped around my waist, the other sitting on my hip. This is… not how we fell asleep. But I can’t find it in myself to complain.
Careful not to move my head and wake him, I swing my gaze up to his face.
My stomach swoops as I scan his expression and find no hint of stress from the night before.
He looks completely serene in sleep. Watching him panic after his nightmare broke my heart, but the way he calmed as I held him glued it back together.
I’ve spent this week believing that Nate and I would never be more than friends—just two people raising a child together with no attachment to each other whatsoever.
I can’t deny that I’m becoming attached.
That little crush I had has been steadily growing into something I’m not ready to put words to.
After the kitchen incident following Quinn’s first steps, I put distance between us to spare my aching heart the pain of being rejected by my husband.
I’ve tried all week to come to terms with the fact that what I’m feeling for Nate is entirely one-sided, that he feels nothing toward me but gratitude for helping him with Quinn and the chores around the house.
But after last night, it feels like something is shifting between us.
Despite all my efforts to keep it in check, hope blooms in my gut like an untamable wildflower—stubborn and deeply rooted.
Nate’s hand tightens on my hip, and he draws a sharp breath. I stay motionless as he blows a silent chuckle and runs his fingers through my hair, trailing them across my shoulder and down my arm, resting on his chest.
I know I should move or give him some indication that I’m awake.
But I’m afraid that acknowledging this will put an end to it, that we’ll go back to that awkward place between pretending to care and real feelings.
So, I close my eyes and savor this for a moment longer, praying that someday this could be real, that he would hold me because he wants to, not as a stress response.
“Da? Dada,” Quinn’s voice sounds across the clearing, and we both freeze.
“Where is Dada?” My mom’s unmistakable voice answers Quinn. “Can you find him? What about Lucy?”
“Lu? Lu!”
Nate chuckles and rubs my arm, squeezing it gently. “I guess that’s our wake-up call.”
I feel my cheeks heat as I raise my head to meet his gaze.
He tucks my hair behind my ear and smirks. “It’s a shame. I’m really comfortable.”
My heart flutters in my chest, but a small hand pats the nylon wall of our tent before I have a chance to answer. “Lu?”
I sigh and roll onto my back, expecting to flop onto my air mattress, but instead I land on the ground with a thunk.
Apparently, I didn’t just worm my way into Nate’s arms—I migrated over to his air mattress, and mine shifted a few inches away.
Nate pushes my air mattress across the tent, giving me room to stand in the cramped space. “Are you okay?”
I nod and tug at my pajamas, making sure everything is in place, then cross to the door and unzip it.
Quinn’s sweet smiling face squeezes through the gap as Mom holds her at eye level. I laugh and step out of the tent as Mom swings her back and forth. I clap my hands and reach for Quinn. “Good morning, little lady. Did you have a good night with Gigi and Papa?”
Mom chuckles as she passes Quinn to me. “She did fine. She slept through the night, but Scott and Kathryn stayed up late playing cards with Craig and Cindy, and Quinn woke up a little too early for their taste. So, she’s been playing with Jojo—do you like that for my grandma name? I think it’s kind of cute—”
“Mom.” I cut her off with a brow raise. “I love you, but I haven’t had any coffee, and you’re going too fast.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Okay, I get it. I’ll get out of your hair. Your dad is making a bunch of pancakes whenever you guys get hungry. I think he’s made enough to feed the whole park.”
I nod and smile, waiting for Mom to wrap things up while Quinn squirms in my arms. A shiver of awareness rolls down my spine as Nate steps through the tent door and stands behind me.
He sets a hand on my hip, and his voice vibrates through my back.
“Good morning, Joanne. Thanks for bringing Quinn over.”
Quinn sees him over my shoulder and grins. “Dada.”
He takes a step closer and leans over my shoulder, pressing his chest into my back as he kisses Quinn’s head. “Good morning, Quinnifer.”
Mom smiles as her eyes move between the three of us, and for the first time since I agreed to this ridiculous plan, it doesn’t feel like we’re lying—not completely at least.
She claps her hands, basically giddy. “Well, I’d better get back over to our campsite and help Henry with breakfast. Don’t take too long getting over there; you don’t want to eat cold pancakes.
” She turns to me and lowers her voice to a whisper, like it will make up for her excessive volume until now. “And I’ll get some coffee going.”
I nod, blinking blearily. She crosses the clearing with a wave for every one of my friends who dares to pop their heads out of their tents.
I sigh and lean into Nate’s chest, unashamedly seeking his warmth and sturdiness as I ignore the pointed look Skylar is giving me from her tent door.
I want to believe this is real for a little bit longer before something else comes along and destroys the newly planted hope in my stomach.
He chuckles, and the sound sends chills down my arms. “Are you okay?”
I dramatically lay my head on his collarbone. “She’s a lot to handle pre-caffeine.”
He laughs and tightens his hand on my hip. “Go get dressed, and we’ll get you some coffee.”
I straighten up and turn to face him, frowning as he rubs the back of my head. “What?”
He smirks. “I was checking for a bump. I know my chest is pretty solid. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt again.”
I adjust Quinn on my hip, keeping her dangling feet away from my pump and CGM still attached to my leg, as I roll my eyes and duck into the tent.
When I set Quinn on the tent floor and turn to zip the door closed, Nate smiles.
His eyes are soft with an emotion I don’t want to label as they roam my face.
“I’m going to the bathhouse, but I’ll be right back, Lucy Goosey. ”
I shoot him a glare and zip the door closed in his face. His laugh fades as he walks away, and I release a long breath. I turn to Quinn, still sitting in the middle of the floor with her big blue eyes trained on me. “Your Dada is trouble, isn’t he, big girl?”
Quinn’s grin is massive, and she claps. “Dada!”
I fight a smile, but it breaks across my face despite my effort. Nate Walker is definitely trouble, but I’m starting to think he might be worth it.
I push the front door open and pause. My brows rise as my gaze lands on Nate in shorts, a T-shirt, and a ball cap with a steamer in one hand and a putty knife in the other. “You started without me?”
He smirks and shrugs. “Quinn went down early for her nap.”
I sigh and close the door behind me. “Well, stop. Let me get changed and I’ll be ready to start.”
He chuckles and waves his putty knife, gesturing to all the untouched walls. “I think there will be plenty left for you to do.”
I roll my eyes and climb the stairs. It doesn’t take me long to change into a pair of athletic shorts and a tank top. As I walk down the stairs, I pull my hair into a ponytail.
When I reach the bottom of the staircase, Nate turns to me, frowns, and shakes his head. “No.”
I raise my brows. “What?”
He points to my bare feet. “Go put some shoes on.”
I roll my eyes. “I think I’ll be fine without them.”
His eyes narrow as they land on my face. “If you drop a putty knife on your foot, you’ll wish you had shoes.”
I sigh and march back up the stairs, mumbling, “Bossy.”
When I come back down, with an old pair of tennis shoes on, Nate wordlessly hands me a putty knife with a smirk. I jerk the tool out of his hand and aim a glare at his arrogant expression, but the corner of my mouth twitches upward and ruins the whole effect.
His eyes drop to my mouth, catching the traitorous movement, and my heart thuds loudly. He blinks, takes his hat off, runs a hand through his hair, and replaces it… backward.
I need a scientific explanation for why backward baseball caps are so unfairly attractive.
His gaze roams my face, and his crooked smirk grows in size and arrogance. I swallow and turn toward the wallpaper he’s been working on, noting the plastic he has draped on the lower half of the walls around the room to protect the decorative paneling while we work.
I purse my lips and gesture to the wall with my putty knife. “So, what’s the procedure here?”
He chuckles. “You haven’t removed wallpaper before?”
I raise a brow and turn to him. “Have you seen my parents’ house? Does it look like they’ve removed any wallpaper since the nineties?”
He laughs and nods. “Fair enough.”
I spent the day after we got back from our camping trip watching HGTV while Nate was at work, hoping some of Hollywood’s best contractors would impart some wisdom for this project, and maybe distract me from reliving the morning that I woke up in Nate’s arms for the millionth time.
But I learned more about tearing things apart than repairing and restoring them.
They love their ‘demo days.’
I’ve been excited to tackle this project since Nate brought it up. The idea of peeling away old layers and breathing new life into something worn down seems satisfying.