Chapter Twenty-Two
Lucy
The part he likes best? Lucy laughed softly. “You may be the first guy to say that.”
“I mean it. I need a little fun, and you showed up when I needed you most, I think. Kismet or fate or something.” His face was so close. His lips were so close. Ready to be kissed. And she wanted to, all afternoon long.
“Maybe I’m actually some kind of mystical creature.” She smiled. “I’m here to grant you three wishes, earthling.”
His expression was mock-thoughtful. “Let’s see. Number one, I want to be the ace pitcher for the Texas Rangers. Two, world peace.”
She gave an airy wave of her hand. “Done. And three?”
“For the girl sitting on this beach to kiss me.”
Thought you’d never ask. “Hmm, that takes a more hands-on approach, I think.” She slid her arms around his neck. “Close your eyes and wish upon your favorite star.”
His eyes fell closed, and she could almost see the wish on his lips. Sighing softly, she leaned in. Her mouth met his gently, light, like the wish. His arms came around her waist, pulling her closer. They were both damp, with the sun hot on their backs, and pressed skin to skin. It was just a kiss, but it was so much more.
A wish come true? Maybe.
His hand tangled in her hair, and they fell back onto the sand, mouths never breaking apart. He was solid and warm against her, and she traced the muscles of his arms, his back. Yes, definitely some perks to dating an athlete. He bit her lower lip, just a nibble, and she shivered despite the sun-warmed sand at her back. Then his fingers slid down her arm, drifting to her hip. His touch sent shock waves through her middle. She had to give him credit—he knew what girls liked, and wasn’t in it just for himself.
The kiss went on and on, until she finally had to pull away to catch her breath. “Wow.”
He gave her a cocky smirk. “Just what I wanted to hear.”
“I’ll give you that one.” She kissed his jaw. “Now, can I drive?”
Dylan laughed, and it lit up his face, turning the little lines around his eyes into sweet crinkles instead of worried creases. “Should I be worried?”
“My dad taught me to drive a stick shift, which I drive every day, thank you very much.” She jerked her chin at the Sea-Doo. “How hard can it be?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Wait, that Jeep is a manual?”
She shrugged. “So?”
“You keep saying I’m full of surprises…Lucy, I don’t know a single girl, and probably only three guys, who can drive a stick. It’s impressive.”
Funny thing, he really sounded impressed. Like driving a car was a big thing. “My dad is a lieutenant colonel in the Army. Do you really think he’d let me off so easy when it comes to driving?”
“When you put it like that…” Dylan stood and waded into the water. “Should I be worried he’s going to hunt me down for kissing you?”
“Nah.” She frowned. “Well, maybe.”
“It was a pleasure knowing you, Lucy.” Dylan made like he was going to get onto the Sea-Doo and leave her on the beach.
She laughed. “Honestly, he’ll probably like you more than the other guys I dated.” She smiled, remembering him scaring off a smug art student she’d met at camp one year. That boy had been a little too anarchic for Dad’s taste. “You have a military haircut and great posture. If you can run a mile in eight minutes or less, he’ll be all for it.”
“I can run two miles in fifteen minutes. That should do it.” Dylan winked. “You miss him a lot, don’t you?”
Tears pricked the back of her eyes, out of nowhere. Maybe it was Dylan’s matter-of-fact-but-tender tone…or maybe it was that she missed her dad just that much. “Yeah. I can’t go half a day without hoping he’s okay. I…I missed a phone call from him yesterday. It made me sad.”
“I miss my sister like that sometimes. Not as much as you miss your dad,” he hurried to add. “But she’s out of the country, and I’d forgotten what it’s like not to be even able to text her when I want to. She’s seven hours ahead, so I always—stupidly—think about texting her in the afternoon here, and it’s already late there.”
Lucy put on her life jacket and picked her way over to the Sea-Doo. “It’s hard. But I think about how great it’ll be to see him again, and it gets me through. Mostly.”
Dylan’s hands encircled her waist. “Grab the handlebars when I push you up. I’ll steady you until you’re on.”
Steady her…yeah, because her heart wasn’t pounding and her legs weren’t shaking. Still, Lucy managed to climb onto the bobbing craft. In an act that was part athleticism and part sheer awesomeness, Dylan bent his knees underwater, then launched himself out of the lake to land sidesaddle on the back part of the seat. The Sea-Doo swayed but didn’t tip.
Lucy’s eyes went wide. Damn. “That was impressive.”
“Eh, I do it all the time.” Dylan slid onto the seat behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Leaning forward, he clipped the key to her jacket and walked her through starting the Sea-Doo. She found it hard to pay attention with his breath warm against her ear, but she got the gist. “You ready?”
He laughed. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Take it easy coming out of the cove. It’s a blind exit.”
Obediently, she put the little craft into cruise mode and glided them out of the cove at a calm five miles per hour. Once they were clear, though, she opened it up, and then they were flying over the water. Dylan laughed as she whooped with excitement. “Hold on!”
Dylan’s hands tightened on her waist and she leaned into a turn, sending them skidding, then back again. Lucy didn’t think she’d felt this untethered in a long, long time. It was amazing…she’d needed this.
Dylan let her drive for almost an hour, until they were low on gas. “We should go back.”
Even though she’d had to slow down a lot to drive them toward the beach near the dock, her pulse was still tripping like a live wire. It wasn’t all the ride, either. Dylan’s arms were strong and tan, and water droplets glinted against his skin every time she stole a glance at them around her middle. The problem with dating artistic, or anarchic, guys, she decided, was a definite lack of tanned, taut skin. They tended to see outside labor of any kind as blasé. She’d broken up with two guys for questioning why she helped at Serena’s farm. The vegan had broken up with her, calling her a murderer for picking up the eggs the beloved hens laid. She didn’t have the heart to tell him Serena’s flock laid unfertilized eggs, because that would’ve led them into a philosophical argument. Instead, she wished him well and decided to be single. There’d been too many guys with too many “constraints” where her passions were concerned.
She wouldn’t have to worry about that with Dylan. Maybe that’s why she liked him so much. For all their “opposites attract” baggage, they were still alike enough in ways that counted. Enough so that things striving to keep them apart weren’t being all that successful.
Dylan leaned forward, giving her a quick kiss behind the ear. Lucy felt that in every nerve. “Can you hang out here until I back the trailer in?”
She nodded, admiring the view as he slid off the Sea-Doo and waded onto the shore. A buzzing under the seat made her quirk an eyebrow. What the hell? She laughed when she realized it was Dylan’s phone, hidden away in a compartment under the seat pad. Not even thinking, she pulled it out.
A text from someone named…Rick? I have a scout lined up for Wednesday. He’ll set up a time with your coach. I’m heading home. Hang in there.
Lucy wasn’t sure what that meant, but as soon as the Sea-Doo was back on its trailer, she handed him the phone through the open driver’s window. “Sorry, I looked. Is that good news?”
Dylan stared at the screen like the phone was going to bite him in the face. “Uh, yeah. My uncle played in the majors, and he knows a lot of scouts in baseball. I guess this means I’ll have my first real shot on Wednesday.”
Lucy leaned into the window and planted a kiss on his cheek. “That’s amazing. Good luck! I’m assuming this isn’t something I should show up to, you know, to cheer you on.”
“No, probably not.” Dylan’s brow was wrinkled. “I wasn’t expecting this. I thought my uncle was starting to side with my parents on the whole college thing.”
Lucy still couldn’t quite get her mind around the college is horrible idea, but she could see it was important to him. “Looks like he wasn’t after all.”
“Yeah.”
Dylan went quiet. She’d been about to suggest they drop her car off at Mom’s shop and go to Dolly’s or the cute diner on Main her family loved, but she wasn’t sure what was going through his head. “You okay? I thought you’d be happier.”
“I’m okay.” He flashed her a smile that looked pasted on. “I had a good time today.”
Lucy searched his eyes, finding confusion, excitement, and a healthy dose of nerves. This news had thrown him over the moon. “Me, too.”
He nodded. “Maybe we should call it an afternoon, though. I need to get ready for camp tomorrow.”
She tried not to feel brushed off. “Yeah, I have some finishing touches to put on that wedding dress, and I want to check on Serena, see how the hens are doing.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
“Sure.”
She leaned in to kiss his cheek, but he surprised her by turning at the last minute to give her a quick kiss on the mouth. “Right. See you tomorrow.”
Lucy took a step back, not quite sure what to say. Instead, she waved as he drove away, pulling the Sea-Doo behind him. He must really be freaked out by the news because he hadn’t even waited until she got into her car. Frowning, not sure if the pang in her chest was hurt or concern, she went back to her Jeep. Her phone was in the glove box, and Serena had texted.
S: Hey.
S: Oh, yeah. You’re on your date. Sorry.
S: It’s just…we lost Sprinkles. She couldn’t handle the heat.
S: The rest are okay.
Tears filled Lucy’s eyes, and she threw the car into reverse. Maybe Dylan didn’t want—or need—her right now, but Serena did.
By the time she pulled up to Serena’s farm, having thrown on a T-shirt and shorts over her bikini, Serena’s mom was waiting at the gate. “They’re out back, hon. She’s pretty broken up. She loved that hen.” Mrs. Blake sighed. “They’re going to bury Sprinkles. None of us could bear…”
She didn’t finish, but Lucy understood. Usually, Serena was pragmatic and stoic about her hens, understanding what their life cycle entailed. Those that passed laying age were usually humanely put down and turned into fried chicken. It might sound cruel to someone on the outside, but it always sounded kinder to Lucy, whose chicken came from the market, and was usually from a large farm that didn’t care about its birds. Serena’s family was religious, and they prayed over each and every chicken they ate.
But Sprinkles was different, special. Serena had raised her from the shell, bought from a nearby farm that bred laying hens. Sprinkles had been a pet, more than the other hens.
Lucy tugged on her boots and went in search of her friend. She found Serena and her dad in the small garden behind the house. Mr. Blake was leaning on a shovel underneath a giant magnolia, and Serena held a cardboard box. Her eyes were puffy and red. As soon as she saw Lucy, she started crying again.
Lucy put an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Ser. Sprinkles was a sweet little girl.”
Serena swiped at her eyes. “I know I’m being silly, but I feel like it’s my fault. I should’ve noticed the heat sooner, or brought out more ice, or…anything.”
“You did everything you could, precious,” Mr. Blake said. “You and Lucy both. Texas summers are rough on these birds. Their new homes will be pleased to see how well we’ve taken care of them.”
A stab of guilt hit Lucy right between the eyes. She’d spent her afternoon frolicking at the lake, kissing a cute boy, while her friend frantically tried to save their chickens. Given how weirdly her time with Dylan had ended, maybe she should’ve made an excuse and stayed here.
That wasn’t true, exactly, and she knew it. Still, it made her angry. The Blakes loved their farm, loved their hens. They were a mile from the closest subdivision and acres from their nearest neighbors. How could the town do this them?
Boiling, Lucy said, “We’ll fix it, Ser. We’ll fix it.”
Her dad gave Lucy an odd look, and Lucy met his gaze head on. This was one fight she wasn’t backing down from. No freaking way.