It's a Love Thing

“You know, he kind of was,” I laughed. “I just never noticed while we were together.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you’re not still together. A real good thing,” he added, rolling to his side to face me.

  “Your turn.”

  “Hmm,” he thought, closing his eyes against the sun’s rays. “When I first met you, I really didn’t want to like you.”

  Okay, not what I was expecting, but then again I should be used to the unexpected when it came to Lucas.

  “And now?” I inquired.

  “You’re growing on me.”

  “Growing on you, like mold?”

  “Just as stubbornly, but a little less gross,” he commented with a smirk.

  “Just a little less?” I laughed, smacking his arm.

  He caught my hand deftly and pinned it to the blanket, opening his eyes to look at me again. And what eyes they were. Man oh man, I could get lost in that blue like falling into the sky or the ocean or something.

  “So what about your dad?” he asked.

  His hand still clutched mine, making it hard to focus.

  “He left when I was a kid.”

  “That stinks. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Seven.”

  “Your dad left when you were seven and it’s okay?” He sounded genuinely confused.

  It was hard to explain the way I felt about my dad. Even hard to explain why I felt that way.

  “Yeah, it is. He had a problem. He was addicted to gambling. He couldn’t help it, it was like a disease. He would bet away our money most of the time and he just couldn’t stop. So instead he did the best he could by us and left. At least that way he would stop hurting us. I’m sure it was hard for him, too, but at least he stepped up and did what he could instead of dragging us down with him. You know what I mean?”

  Lucas looked stunned and I wondered if any of that had made any sense at all. It wouldn’t be the first time I had lost basic cognitive abilities in his presence, and lying on the ground next to him was doing nothing for my mental stability.

  “So let me get this straight. The guy gambled away your family's money for seven years, and then abandoned you and your mother, and you think he’s a good guy?”

  “I think he’s a guy who was in a difficult position and did the best he could with it. By leaving us, he showed us how much he really did care about us. He was willing to sacrifice his family to keep them safe.”

  “Do you ever talk to him?”

  “No, mom said that if he knew how to reach us he wouldn’t be able to help himself from asking for money, and knowing her she’d give it to him, so they both thought it would be best to make a clean break. I haven’t heard a word from him since he left. I don’t even know where he is anymore.”

  “That’s . . .” Lucas trailed off, squinting out over the stream.

  Crazy? Insane? Naïve? The stupidest thing he had ever heard?

  “Amazing. You’re sort of amazing, you know that?”

  “Hardly,” I laughed, relived he didn’t think I was an idiotic pushover.

  “No, really. That kind of compassion is almost unheard of these days.”

  “If that’s true then I feel bad for other people.”

  Lucas smiled looking . . . I wanted to say in awe, but that couldn’t be right. I doubt Lucas Prescott was in awe of anything, least of all me.

  *****

  A couple hours later, after a well-deserved snooze, we packed up the remnants of our picnic and headed back towards home. The sun was almost on the horizon by the time we reached my front door.

  “Oh, hey, look what I found,” Lucas said just before I went inside.

  Color me surprised when he whipped my cell phone out of his pack. What. The. Hell?

  “Where did you get that?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously. “I’ve been looking for it forever.”

  “I found it in the bush out here while I was waiting for you to get your boots earlier. I put it in the bag and forgot about it.”

  “Oh, that’s weird. I thought I looked everywhere out here.”

  “Well at least you got it back right?”

  “Right. Thanks.”

  I still couldn’t believe I'd missed it in all of my searching as Lucas handed it over. The battery was dead but it looked to be in one piece.

  “Sure. And here,” he handed me a small slip of paper.

  I unfolded it and found his number written in unusually elegant handwriting for a guy.

  “Just in case,” he said.

  I stared at the numbers on the paper like they held some kind of answer to the puzzle that was Lucas, but nothing came from them. When I glanced back up he was already halfway across the yard.

  “Hey, Lucas,” I called after him.

  He paused and turned back to me.

  “Thanks . . . for today.”

  “No problem.” He offered a smile and a nod before heading back toward home.

  I took my cell upstairs, plugged it in first thing and then switched it on. Three new voicemails and a text. Not really caring to hear them I dialed my voicemail and let them play. The first was from Jason inviting me to the carnival. I deleted it and waited for the next. Also from Jason, this one just said, ‘We need to talk. Call me.’ I listened to the date stamp; it was from the day after the club incident. We need to talk? Really? No ‘I’m sorry, please forgive me, it won’t ever happen again?’ Unbelievable. The last message was from mom and it was from this afternoon. When I checked the text it was also from mom asking me to call her back. What was the point in leaving a message, text or otherwise, if all you were going to do was tell the person to call you back? Couldn’t you just say what it is you have to say in the text or voicemail and get it over with? Unreasonably frustrated, more because of Jason’s message than mom's, I dialed her number and listened to it ring. Just when I was sure I was going to have to leave some stupid useless message of my own because I had no idea what this game of phone tag was about, she answered sounding out of breath.

  “Oh, hi, honey. Glad you called. Listen I can’t really talk, but I’m coming home early because the museum is hosting a function tomorrow night to showcase the new exhibit I put together. My flight gets in around three. I just wanted to give you a heads up. We’ll have two tickets each in case there’s someone you would like to bring along. Maybe at least one of us won’t have to look pathetic.”

  “Mom, you’re not pathetic. You’re a hard worker,” I pointed out.

  “That’s sweet of you to say, honey, but do you have a date you could bring?”

  Mom never was one for small talk. A date? Did I have someone I could take on a date? My boyfriend, if that’s what Jason had been, and I weren’t talking and Lucas . . . well, Lucas was Lucas. Could I really ask him on a . . . date? But mom sounded so hopeful and I hated to let her down so I agreed to invite someone if they could make it. The pleased tone in her voice as she said goodbye almost made the next call I would have to make worth it.

  Figuring it would just be too lame to call Lucas up so soon after we parted ways and invite him on a date for the next evening, I decided to put it off until later. And okay, yeah, so maybe I was a tad bit nervous. I mean just because the guy offered to keep me company over the summer and we had actually managed to have a nice day together didn’t mean he was ready for formal events . . . with parents no less. That was not what he had signed up for.

  Putzing around the house for the next several hours, part of me wished time would move faster just so I could get the call over with and another part of me wished it would stop entirely so I would never have to make it at all. Finally seven o’clock rolled around along with the pizza delivery guy—turns out the town did have a pizza place—and I just couldn’t stand it any longer. I dialed his number and pressed send.

  “Hello?” his deep voice was even sexier over the phone. Yeah, this was gonna go well.

  “Hey, Lucas? It’s Mel from
next door.”

  Uh duh, like he was likely to know another Mel. Jeez, what was wrong with me?

  “Do you ever eat anything but pizza?”

  “Huh?”

  “I think I see the pizza delivery car in your driveway more often than your car,” he teased.

  He was watching my driveway? Why did that flatter me instead of freak me out? I had problems.

  “Um, yeah, well my mom works a lot and when she is home she could literally burn water so that pretty much leaves pizza or starving to death.”

  “I see. Well, I cook every night and it’s not easy to get the proportions right for just one person. I almost always end up with leftovers. Why don’t you come over here?”

  Over there? Uh, no. This was going to be difficult enough over the phone; no way I could ask him out in person.

  “The pizza’s already here so . . .”

  “Save it for later, or tomorrow. Cold pizza is always better anyway.”

  He made a good argument.

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “Come on, I made a whole pan of lasagna.”

  Lasagna? That decided it. Turns out my stomach outranks my brain. Go figure. And lasagna just so happened to be my favorite food on the planet.

  “Okay, sure.”

  “Great. It’s just coming out of the oven so come on over.”

  Cursing myself the entire way, I crossed our lawns and knocked on the door.

  “Just come in,” I heard him call.

  He was in the kitchen cutting into a steaming pan of ooey gooey, uber cheesy lasagna. Hell, even if he laughed in my face this would be worth it. I decided to wait until after the meal to make my request, just to avoid any potential weirdness. Lucas made small talk across the table, but mostly I just mm-hmmed and nodded because my mouth was too full to offer any kind of coherent responses. As we washed and dried the dishes I plucked up my courage. I just sucked it up and spit it out.

  “So tomorrow night the museum is hosting this sort of dinner event and my mother and I are supposed to attend. Anyway, I have two tickets in case there’s anyone who would like to go with me so I was just wondering . . . would you?”

  He glanced over at me from where he was rinsing a glass and I wondered if that had made any sense.

  “Would I what?”

  Guess not.

  “Like to go . . . with me . . . to the dinner?”

  “Like a date?” he asked, the corners of his lips tweaking like he was trying to fight a smile.

  “Like dinner, with a bunch of boring people making boring speeches . . . and my mom,” I might have mumbled that last part but he didn’t miss it.

  His eyebrows tipped higher and suddenly I wanted to take it all back.

  “Never mind. You don’t have to, I mean this wasn’t part to our deal and . . .”

  “Forget the stupid deal. I’d love to go. What time is it?”

  “Dinner starts at six. You can drive with us if you want. We’ll probably leave around five thirty.”

  “What if I didn’t want to drive with your mom?”

  “Oh, that’s fine. We could just meet there . . .”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want to drive with you. If we’re going to do this then we might as well do it right. I will pick you up at five thirty. What should I wear?”

  “Well, it’s kind of a formal thing so if you don’t have anything . . . I know it’s really last minute.”

  There, an easy out just in case he was regretting his decision right about now. He didn’t take it.

  “I think I may have something that will work.”

  I didn’t care if he showed up naked; in fact I might’ve actually preferred that. I just couldn’t believe he was actually willing to do this for me.

  *****

  Let’s just say two girls getting ready for a formal event in a house with only one bathroom does not go over well. Mom pulled into the driveway a little after four o’clock and I hadn’t seen much of her since. I still had to do my hair and she had been in there for like forty five minutes fiddling with her makeup. Enough already mom, if it isn’t right yet . . .

  “Finally,” I cried as she opened the door under my pounding fist, vacating the mirror space at long last. The counter was littered in makeup items, perfume, and hair products. I had to dig through several drawers before turning up my curling iron and plugging it in.

  While I waited, I checked out my dress in the reflection. It was the dress I saved for these types of occasions. It was too nice to wear any other time, but I really did love it. The only good thing about these stupid dinners was the excuse to put it on and feel like a fairy princess for the evening, even if it was a very bored fairy princess. The dress was a dark, midnight blue, floor length number and sparkled from top to bottom. The halter top hung perfectly around my neck and the rest of it fit my body perfectly. It was definitely my favorite piece of clothing that I owned. Too bad no one but mom ever saw me in it . . . until tonight. My stomach squeezed slightly at the thought of Lucas seeing me like this. What would he think? What would he be wearing? Who cared? Not me. Why would I?

  I helped myself to some of my mom’s makeup before finally moving on to my hair. I hated doing my hair. There was just so much of it and I never knew what to do with all of it. Ugh. I started out banana curling it into a dozen loose sections and then tried to figure out where to go from there. Everything I tried looked either juvenile or overdone. There was no middle ground. I was just about to attack it with bobby pins to at least keep the chaos out of my face when mom reappeared in the doorway.

  “Why don’t you try this, honey?” She held up a sliver clip with dark blue stones in it that matched the dress perfectly. It was dazzling.

  “Would you?” I asked, feeling slightly hopeless.

  “I’d love to.”

  I watched in the mirror as she gathered the curls framing my face and pulled them back, slipping the pin into place to secure them. The remainder of my hair fell over my shoulders in loose curls. Then she spun me around to face her and picked out a few strands on either side of my face and used her fingers to curve them around my jaw line. When I turned back to the mirror again I couldn’t believe it. It was perfect.

  I was wrestling my already terrified feet into the world’s most uncomfortable heels when the doorbell rang. A moment later mom called up the stairs, “Lucas is here.”

  Feeling slightly ridiculous making the classic staircase entrance, I picked my way downstairs just trying not to fall on my face. Lucas was standing in the living room and when I saw him I think I stopped breathing. Literally, all respiration ceased entirely. I have no idea how long that lasted; I was too busy taking all of him in. He was wearing the most amazing tux I had ever laid eyes on. It was obvious that this wasn’t some rental tux, but something tailored just for him. It clung to his well-defined shoulders in all the right places and accentuated his figure without looking uncomfortable. The white shirt underneath was impeccable and even his hair was perfect, gelled and combed into a proper and yet still incredibly sexy style. His grin tipped higher as I continued to stare. I had to mentally shake myself to regain my composure.

  When I reached the bottom of the stairs he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. No joke. He really kissed my hand. Suave extraordinaire!

  “You look beautiful,” he said, tucking my hand into the crook of his elbow.

  “You’re not looking so bad yourself,” I managed.

  He smiled again and, holy granola, if that didn’t just make things worse.

  *****

  Dinner was as boring as always with the long winded speeches by dozens of people, but I couldn’t tell you a single thing they said. Actually, I’m not even sure what the exhibit we were there to celebrate was about. I was more than a little distracted by the absurd pile of hunkyness sitting next to me. For a while he seemed to be genuinely interested in what was being said, or maybe that was just for my mother’s benefit, but when he noticed me staring at him he shifte
d his attention to me. Pulling a pen out of his pocket with some sort of slight-of-hand he jotted down a note on his napkin and slid it across the table.

  ‘Bored?’ it read.

  ‘Aren’t you?’ I wrote back.

  ‘Not while I’m sitting next to the prettiest girl in the room.’

  This made me blush and I hoped the lights were low enough that he wouldn’t notice. After the speeches and food were finished they moved onto the second part of the evening. When they announced the ball was beginning in the next room, I was mortified. I'd completely forgotten about that. This was usually the point in the evening when mom and I would excuse ourselves and go home. I hoped Lucas didn’t think I expected him to dance with me. Before I had a chance to explain though, he was on his feet.

  “Shall we?” he asked, offering me his hand with a slight bow.

  Oh boy, Casanova watch out. How could I say no to that?

  I took his hand and he led me from the room, my mother grinning like an idiot at us the entire way. I had never actually seen the ballroom before. Even the few times Marcus had accompanied me to these things, he had never bothered to ask me to stick around for the dancing part. It was extraordinary. Who knew there was a room like this in a hotel? It looked like something that belonged in a palace or something. Tables covered in white linens lined the room, but the center was one large open floor. At the front of the room was a small stage where the band was just getting started. A few people were already dancing, but mostly they were claiming seats for now. Figuring that was the safest course of action, I headed toward an empty table, but Lucas stopped me.

  “May I have this dance?”

  Was he serious? Not only was he willing to stick around but he actually wanted to dance? This was a definite first for me, but I agreed. The idea of knowing what it felt like to have his arms around me even just for one song was too much to pass up. Lucas led me out onto the floor and swooped me gracefully into his embrace. Not having any idea whatsoever what I was doing, I simply followed his lead as he spun me around the dance floor. He could not be for real. I must have been dreaming or hallucinating or just completely insane. He danced like some kind of professional. I could be wrong, but I think the guy knew how to waltz. I wasn’t the only one to notice either. Other couples stopped to watch us and I even overheard a few comments from the table crowd as we passed by. I was too thrilled to bother being embarrassed. I had never had so much fun or felt so much like a fairytale princess in all of my life.