Crush

“I’ll teach you to throw it ten thousand yards.”

“Wow,” LJ replied, dumbfounded.

“I’ll take you to the park when I come visit in a couple weeks. In the meantime, practice snapping your arm back and following through on your throw.”

LJ’s eyes squinted while he stored these instructions away.

“You’ll be throwing like a pro before you know it.”

“And . . . time,” I interrupted, realizing that if I was going to be watching this kid six days a week, I’d have to get used to being a responsible adult.

LJ groaned and hung his shoulders.

“Listen to your aunt Luce, little man,” Jude said. “From one guy to another, here’s a word of advice: You’re going to have to figure out what battles are worth fighting. And this isn’t one you’ll win.”

LJ contemplated that pearl of wisdom for all of a second before nodding his head. “Okay. Good night, Uncle Jude. Good night, Aunt Luce.” He waved and started for the bedroom. “I love you.”

I turned the phone so Jude could watch him go. “Love you, little man.”

When I heard the bedroom door click shut, I spun the phone around. “That was a major crisis averted,” I teased, as his smile grew when he saw me.

“That, Luce, was a major crisis delayed,” he implied, letting those words settle.

Jude Ryder . . . hopeless optimist.

“No, Jude,” I said, propping the phone up against a stack of coasters on the coffee table. “That was a major crisis called on account of weather.”

“Luce, no way.” He groaned. “You got me all excited and now you’re giving me the airtime c**k block?”

I turned onto my side, trying not to laugh. “No. I’m going to sleep,” I replied, blowing him a kiss. “Good night. Love you, Jude.”

A good minute after I’d closed my eyes, he sighed. I never knew so many emotions could reside in one sigh. “Good night. Love you, Luce.”

That night, my dreams picked up where Jude and I had let off. Ecstasy.

FOURTEEN

I’d fallen asleep on Monday night and it was Friday when I woke up.

It was amazing how time could move so fast when your life was filled with a nine-to-five office job, mac ’n’ cheese dinners, Yo Gabba Gabba! dates, precious hours squeezed in at the dance studio, and nightly calls from the love of my life.

So far, Holly loved her job, and I actually looked forward to getting home so I could hang with a three-almost-four-year-old every night. It was impossible to experience any degree of self-pity when you were in the presence of a kiddo who was as happy and energetic as LJ. Plus, after chasing him around for four hours, I was able to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Much to Jude’s dismay.

I was smiling to myself as I played through the many puppy-dog faces and pleas that Jude had come up with this week, when Anton burst out of his office.

“Checked tie or striped tie?” he asked, bobbing two ties in front of me.

Apparently personal wardrobe consultant was now one of the many hats I wore here at Xavier Industries. Work had been going well. I was learning the ropes, and I was so busy the days flew by. I’d done so much typing and created so many spreadsheets, I was sure I could complete my job with my eyes closed.

“What’s the occasion?” I asked, powering down my computer. It was a few minutes after five on a Friday night.

“Dinner with a blind date,” he said, inspecting the ties critically. “Some girl my friend went to school with. She’s a graphic designer, likes glam rock, and runs marathons. That’s all I know about her, which is why I’m coming up empty in the tie selection endeavor.”

If Anton thought selecting the right tie was the be-all-end-all when it came to getting a second date, I understood why he was still single.

“The checked one,” I said, tapping it with the end of my pen.

The skin between his brows lined. “So confident. So certain,” he said, holding the checked tie up. “How did you decide?”

I used the Pythagorean theorem and square-rooted the null set. I was an insufferable smart-ass.

“It’s the one I like,” I said, shrugging.

Anton’s face relaxed. Nodding, he appraised the tie with new eyes. “The checked one it is,” he said, heading back for his office. “Thanks, Lucy. Have a nice weekend.”

“Do you need anything else?” I asked, already shouldering my purse. I had our first ever Friday-night dinner to prepare for five tonight, and, while Anton had been true to his word and not brought my relationship up again this week, I felt uncomfortable being alone with him.

And it made me mad. Other than some harmless flirting, Anton had been a true gentleman, going so far as to walk me to my car every night to make sure I got to it safely. I shouldn’t feel uneasy to be alone with another man, and the fact that I did made me even more uneasy.

“No, it’s quitting time,” he said from his office. “I’m out of here, too, so I’ll walk you out.” Reappearing with the checked tie in place and a tweed vest instead of his suit jacket, he held open the office door and waited for me.

I turned off the lights and went through the door as fast as I could. He’d put on some cologne that was spicy and sweet-smelling, and the fact that I noticed set me on edge.

We walked in silence to the elevator, and our silence dragged on while we waited for it.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Anton asked.