Chapter Fourteen
Harrison
Lucas stared at me. His jaw dropped open exactly one beat before he schooled his face, bade Vivian goodbye, and led me out the door.
“I want to drive,” I announced, sounding like an asshat. I was nervous as heck and being in my grandad's truck comforted me. Sure, I could have gotten multiple trucks for what I’d spend on it over the years, but it was worth every penny.
“I said I’d take you.”
“Last time we were together, you left early and had a ride in only a few minutes. I don’t have that at my disposal.” If he left early, even by my request, it would mean I was hoofing it or calling Vivian, and neither sounded ideal.
“You think we are going to fight?” He took a step toward me, something brewing in his eyes, his voice nonchalant.
“I think it’s cold, and my truck is warmed up.”
He gave a subtle nod, the discussion over as we both closed the distance to my truck and climbed inside, turning the heat on full blast as soon as the engine was on. Contrary to what I'd promised, the cold had managed to bite through any of the remaining heat.
“Where to?”
“The restaurant.”
“I thought you said a set.” Or was it Vivian who said it. Surrounded by his scent, I had not a clue what my name even was, and, given the temperature, opening the windows wasn’t an option. “Wouldn’t be that in a warehouse or something?” I had no clue how the entire television thing went, but I was fairly sure that was how it worked.
“It isn’t really a set, even though technically it is.” His hand grazed my thigh before he snapped it back. Maybe he was as affected by my scent as I was his. “We’re doing it in the old Greek restaurant. Do you know it?”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“We’re in Mapleville. It’s either The Diner or home, since that place closed down. Everyone knows it.” And a few actually missed their less than stellar hit-or-miss meals. Although, given that all weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries now had to take place in the church basement, town hall, or the Moose Club, I could almost understand why.
“Set sounded pretentious, didn’t it.” I could hear him shuffling, turning his body to me, but refused to look. If I did, I’d end up pulling over and kissing him senseless. I knew some of that was his scent and some of it my hormones from being pregnant, but most of it was just Lucas.
“A wee bit, yeah,” I admitted before reaching to the side, hoping he would realize I was looking for his hand and give it to me. He did. “You aren’t, though. I mean, not really.” I gave his hand a squeeze.
“I try not to be,” he admitted. “I was trying to put my best foot forward and then you asked me to leave.” He didn’t bother to try and hide the hurt.
“I panicked. I’d just found out I was pregnant and then you came to town and so did everyone on the planet, and it was too much.” I took my hand from his as I hit the directional and turned into the parking lot. “Here we are.”
I climbed out of the truck faster than I should’ve and slipped on black ice below me, catching myself on the truck door. I knew better. I’d lived here my entire life, but I had been so quick to get out of his scent and to clear my head before I said or did something stupid, that I didn’t pay attention.
“You okay?” Lucas’s arm wrapped around me. The guy must’ve flown out and around the truck, his worry echoing in my ear.
“I’m fine.” I let go of the door, leaning into him slightly before stepping back and closing the truck. “Black ice.”
“Or running away from me.” He was only half teasing, and I immediately felt like dirt.
“More trying to get away from your scent.” I turned to face him, our bodies inches apart. It was all I could do not to close that distance. “I have trouble thinking when we are in enclosed spaces like that.”
“Tell me about it.” He kissed my cheek before taking my hand. It was both unexpected and sweet. “This okay?” he asked, indicating our connected hands.
“Yeah.” I smiled before catching myself looking around the parking lot. “Maybe.” I shrugged. “Yes.” It was too much. I could give two shits what Mapleville thought about Lucas, the baby, and me, but knowing our child would be fodder for the media, something they might discover as they got older, that just didn’t set well with me.
“I’m pretending it was a heck to the yeah, then.” He gave my hand a squeeze before heading to the back door of the restaurant.
“Fair enough.” I chuckled.
“Be careful when we go in.” Lucas unlocked the door, reaching in and flipping the light switch. “The place is still a mess. We have people making it camera ready.”
Camera ready didn’t sound like a mess at all.
“As opposed to?”
“Real restaurant ready.” He sighed as we stepped over some cords, and he shut the door behind us. We’d entered through the delivery area, and in front of us was the kitchen, or more accurately half a kitchen and half-weird contraptions of lights and stands for what I assumed were cameras all set into tracks.
“It’s all for looks, which was why Vivian was not so impressed. She thinks I should take over the restaurant and stay here.”
I did, too. Not that I was completely ready to admit it yet, not aloud, anyway.
“She’s kind of pushy.” I chuckled. I could so see her going on a tirade over the kitchen, and I hadn’t even seen the dining area. I half expected there to be tables where everyone sat on one side like in sitcoms.
“She’s kind of amazing.” Lucas led me to the kitchen, fully turning on the lights. It was worse than I’d originally thought.
“That, too.” She very much was. Henry was good people, too.
“So, this is it.” He swished his arm in front of the grill like a game show host announcing a prize. “The main area we will film in.”
“Half the kitchen isn’t even usable like this.” I stated the obvious.
“I know.” He sighed, holding my hand a little bit tighter. There was an air of sadness to his voice.
“And you enjoy working like this?” I angled myself so that I was looking directly at him as I spoke. This was important. I wasn’t sure to what extent, yet, but I could feel it.
“I enjoy cooking.” Which wasn’t what I asked. “The rest just means I get to do it on my terms.”
“Doesn’t sound like your terms.” I cupped his cheek. There was something about seeing him like this that made it impossible for me not to offer him comfort.
“Vivian said the same thing,” he admitted. I could totally see that.
“She’s a wise—and nosey—woman.” I rubbed my thumb along his cheekbone.
“So this—us, have you changed your mind?” he asked, more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him.
“That depends. I've been thinking a lot about it. I don’t want our child to grow up and find tabloid articles about themselves. But I also don’t want them growing up without you. No matter what happens between us, you are their father.”
“What do we do, then?” he asked, his eyes hooded and his voice somber.
“Simple. We get married.”