Chapter Sixteen
Lucy
Oh my Gods and Stardust. Lucy’s brain went tilt and rebooted. “Uh, I…oh, shit.”
Dylan was…wearing nothing but a towel and dripping wet. And his face… If she weren’t so flustered, this would be hilarious. His expression was frozen in shock, his cheeks fiery red.
But he was half-naked. No, he was naked-naked, except for the towel. Yeah, she was never going to be able to form a coherent word again. Flat stomach, good pecs, strong shoulders…what was under the towel?
A choked laugh from someone else shook her loose from her full-blown meltdown. Tristan, Dylan’s friend from the lake, stood from where he’d been sitting on a bench. “Lucy? You know this is the men’s locker room, right?”
She took a hurried step away from Dylan. “Yeah…sorry. The coach said you guys kept the kids’ lost and found in here, and I just…Jesus. I’m leaving.”
She turned and marched back through the door on shaking legs. As soon as the door swung shut behind her, though, she burst out laughing and slid down the wall to sit with her face in her hands.
She wasn’t the only one. Tristan was practically dying on the other side of the door. “Christ, man, your face. Your face!”
“Shut up.” Dylan sounded embarrassed, but Lucy could hear that he was on the verge of laughing, too.
Good. He’d been really stiff around her…wait, bad analogy. She started laughing again, and called, “I’m really sorry! I think I went in the wrong door.”
Tristan poked his head out of the locker room, wearing a huge grin. “No, you didn’t. We have an equipment closet in here. I think our coach probably imagined you’d knock first.”
Lucy groaned. “I’m an idiot.”
And she didn’t regret it one bit. She’d gotten an eyeful, and she wasn’t sorry at all. “Once Dylan is done hiding, he’ll be out.” Tristan came to sit next to her. “We were just going to lunch. Want to come along?”
She sighed, kind of wishing she could say yes. “I’d love that, but I’m supposed to be working. I’m only here because my brother left his glove behind, and I closed the store to run up because he was freaking out that he’d lost it forever.”
Tristan laughed. “I can see that. Otis is really into playing ball.”
“Yeah.”
“My girlfriend met him a few days ago. Her dad owns the batting cages on Route 27. He made an impression— She thought he was adorable.”
“That’s a typical reaction. He’s a good kid.” Lucy smiled. It was so nice to hear Otis was in his element with these guys. He needed more of this. “But thanks for saying it.”
The locker room door creaked open. Dylan, hair still damp, but wearing shorts and a T-shirt, peeked outside. He held up a glove. “I think this is Otis’s. It has Foster written on the webbing.”
“Oh, good.” She stood and took it, and her fingers brushed his. A swooping sensation tugged at her stomach, and she met his eyes. His cheeks were pink but he didn’t look away. She swayed slightly in his direction. Stupid, but she couldn’t help it. “I think he was hoping I’d talk you into delivering it in person. He won’t stop talking about ‘Coach Dylan this’ and ‘Coach Dylan that.’ He’s got some serious hero worship going on.”
“Aw, man,” Tristan said, pouting. “I want kids to worship me.”
The suddenly guarded look on Dylan’s face stole some of the humor. “Yeah, about that…”
Tristan stood abruptly. “Oh, look at the time. I’m sure there’s somewhere else I need to be. Like Snaps.”
He strode off without a backward glance, and Lucy chuckled. “He’s funny.”
“He can be.” Dylan squirmed, and Lucy knew for sure something was wrong. “Look, I…I don’t even know how to say this.”
She cocked her head, wondering if this was the part where he told her to leave him alone for good. Somehow, though, she couldn’t convince herself it was. “Just say it. I’m a no-filters kind of girl, and I appreciate that in other people.”
At that, Dylan took a slow step toward her. “Okay. I like you. A lot. I want you to know that, because I think I hurt your feelings when I turned down cake.”
Lucy felt different shades of hot and cold, all over. “Then…why did you?”
He reached out to run his fingers along Otis’s glove until they brushed hers again. “Otis told me he didn’t want us to go out.”
“I see.” And she did. That was the hell of it. Her brother needed a father figure—or at least an older brother type—so badly that sharing was probably out of the question, at least for Otis. The fact that Dylan understood that only made her like him more, though. He seemed to get it.
A chill stalked down Lucy’s spine as she realized what they were about to do. Funny, she didn’t need this boy in her life right now. But…she wanted him to be, right when things went from a little weird to way too complicated. “Our dad, he’s out of the country.”
“He told me. I know what it’s like to be a younger brother. And I know what it’s like wanting something so badly it hurts.” He glanced away. “Which is why I think we can’t let this go any further. Whatever ‘this’ is.”
Her heart ached, heavy and dull in her chest. A year ago she might’ve been able to tell herself at least I saw him in a towel and leave it at that, but she’d changed as much as Otis had, and she needed something, too. It wasn’t fair, but Otis had to come first. She and Dylan both recognized that.
And all the other things on her plate had to come second. Which sucked, because she could really use something new. To dip her toe into the pool of excitement that came with discovering there was a person who could make her pulse jump with a look.
She nodded, her movements feeling stiff and jerky. “You’re right. Thanks for telling me.”
Dylan reached out, paused, then put a hand on her arm. “I wish things were different. I really do.”
She nodded, feeling nothing but tired. This wasn’t how things should be, but they were. “Me, too.”
He stared at her a moment, opened his mouth like he was going to say good-bye, but changed direction at the last second. He stepped in close and, with a sigh, pressed his lips to hers.
It caught Lucy totally by surprise, but she leaned into him all the same. His shirt was damp, and she could feel the warmth of his skin through the cotton. He smelled like generic shampoo from the guys’ aisle at Target, but it worked on him, and her knees shook. His arm slid around her waist, pulled her closer, pressing her against his chest. His lips moved slowly, gently, against hers, almost like he was memorizing how she felt in his arms.
Why did something this good have to be so confusing?
Knowing this could only get harder every second they clung together, Lucy let go first. Dylan’s expression was…she didn’t even know. Defeated? Resigned? Frustrated?
Because she felt every last one of those things, too.
He pressed his forehead to hers, sighed, then pulled away. “See you around.”
“Yeah, see you.”
She turned and walked blindly to her dad’s Jeep, feeling gut punched. She’d had a tendency to date guys who were either a little pretentious or a lot wild, and breaking up had hurt, but not too bad, like her heart had never been all that tangled up in it.
So why did it hurt this much to walk away from a guy light years beyond her type?
“Girl, Otis needs to learn he doesn’t always get his way. Hey! Stop it, Sprinkles. My boot is not food.” Serena nudged the hen away gently before dropping a few extra treats in front of Sprinkles.
“Uh huh, says the girl spoiling her misbehaving hen.” Lucy scattered more grain across the pen’s floor watching the hens’ wagging rears as they rushed toward the food. “It’s just…it’s not like that. Otis has needed someone like Dylan in his life since Dad left, and I’m a big girl. You have to make sacrifices for kids.”
Serena stared at her, mouth open. “Lu, you know I love Otis, but he’s your brother, not your son.”
Serena was an only child. She probably didn’t understand. “Being a big sister means you’re ‘second-Mom,’ really. Especially since I’m eight years older. Hell, I changed that kid’s diapers. I gave him bottles, sitting on the sofa, propped up with pillows. When my dad was called up when he was five, I taught Otis to ride a bike. I’m responsible for him. And Dylan seems to feel the same way.”
“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard the word ‘responsible’ leave your mouth.”
Lucy dusted off her gloves, pretending that it didn’t matter. “I have a lot of work to do, and with Mom being sick so much, I’ve had to help out at home and the store. Otis is a good enough excuse to keep from letting anything happen with Dylan. I don’t really have time for a guy, anyway.”
“I think the key word in that sentence is ‘excuse.’” Serena shook her head. “We need to get up to some trouble, shake off this newfound maturity.”
“I am off tomorrow. Mom’s well enough for the half-day, and if I work on the wedding dress all morning, I can free up the afternoon. What do you want to do?”
“Egg Town Hall.”
Lucy laughed and held up an egg from her basket. “And waste your beautiful, organic, free-range eggs? You get six dollars a dozen for these. Don’t waste them.”
Serena motioned her out of the pen, then closed the gate behind them before starting for the next chicken run. “Dad presented at the council meeting. It didn’t seem to do any good.”
Serena’s tone had gone from outrage to outright sadness. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“If the vote goes against us, we’ll have to sell the flock.
Lucy sucked in a breath. “I thought you had a sanctuary lined up for them.”
“It’s too expensive to move them. They’d have to be certified by the vet that they don’t have bird flu, and…basically, it would cost eight thousand bucks to move them, but there are commercial farms in east Texas willing to buy them and pick them up.” Serena drooped against the fence. “Dad says they’re good farms, but how could they be as good to Sprinkles and the others as I am?”
Lucy’s chest felt tight as she reached out to hug Serena. “They couldn’t. You’re right. We need to do something, but what?”
“Something to make a statement, since Dad wasn’t able to get through to them.” Serena stood up straight, her eyes gleaming with anger. “Something public. That’ll call attention to it.”
Lucy was nodding. “When’s the vote?”
“Next Thursday night. Dad’s going to the meeting to make a last-ditch plea.”
A smile spread across Lucy’s face. “I have an idea. We’ll probably get in big trouble, but they won’t be able to ignore us.”
Serena’s expression was iron. “What do you have in mind, oh, devious bestie of mine?”
“A sit-in outside the Town Hall building.” Lucy rubbed her hands together. God, she loved plotting. “Hen style.”
Serena gave her a high five. “What do you need?”
“Some large crates and some hay. And some poster board.” Lucy paused. “You know we’ll probably get tickets for disturbing the peace, right?”
“I don’t give a damn.” Serena turned toward the pen. “Right, Sprinkles? We give zero fucks about tickets.”
“It’s settled then.”
They exchanged evil grins and went back to feeding the hens and collecting eggs. Their plan was going to almost make up for the situation with Dylan.
Almost.