LLucy’s Revenge(Divine Creek Ranch 15)(4)
“He just needs time. Maybe whatever happened tonight will push him out of his slump.”
“‘Push’? I think a kick…with a big boot…would be more useful right now.”
Patrick smiled at her, and she saw the spark in his blue eyes. “He’s really lucky you care this much about him. He hasn’t exactly made it easy for you.”
Lucy would’ve given up by that point, except something—her intuition maybe—kept telling her to be patient with Beck. She’d gone out with Patrick a couple of times since Christmas but they’d kept things chaste after he’d mentioned to her that Beck liked her more than he let on. Spurred by his openness on the subject and in a moment of bravery—or perhaps foolishness—she’d admitted to Patrick that she was attracted to Beck, too. Patrick’s accepting attitude had been a relief. Since then, they’d included Beck in all their activities and Lucy had hoped for a sign. Something to encourage her to reach out to Beck. Instead, they’d become the threesome version of The Odd Couple.
“What do you think Beck will do when—or if—he finds out what we’ve been talking about?”
A slow smile crossed his face which was illuminated by the dashboard lights. “I don’t think he’d be all that surprised. He has his head in the sand for reasons we may not understand right now, but in his own way he’s already coming around to it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The other night, when the two of you were watching Duck Dynasty, I was watching you. He was rubbing your feet and he had this look…it wasn’t a ‘just friends’ kind of look. A guy doesn’t look that way or do something intimate like that for a woman unless he has feelings for her. And tonight was his idea, remember? Even though he was under the weather, he wanted to go out with us. On Valentine’s Day. He’d probably never admit to that, especially not after whatever happened with that phone call.”
That stirred-up, warm feeling entered her chest again. She’d thought she’d been imagining the intimacy in the gesture when he’d rubbed her feet, gently stroking her arches and insteps with his fingertips. But then he’d told her that she was overdue for fresh toenail polish and it had been all she could do not to kick him in the balls. “I feel bipolar when I’m around him sometimes, you know?”
An amused chuckle rumbled in his broad, muscular chest. “Yeah, I did notice that.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m going to kick his ass for cussing at me and biting my head off…right after I make sure he’s okay. I wish we’d just stayed in and watched a movie.” Wringing her hands together, she leaned forward as they passed a storefront and looked in the sheltered doorway, half afraid she’d see him huddled there in the dark. “Where is that asshole?”
“Luce, I’m taking you home. It’s getting late and you have a big day tomorrow.”
She regretted mentioning to Patrick that she had a full schedule of massage clients for the next day. “I know, but there’s no way I’ll sleep until I know he’s okay. Being out in this weather will probably make him sick.” She recalled noticing the dark shadows under his eyes, as though he wasn’t sleeping much, when she’d opened her front door for them earlier that evening.
Patrick worked his way in the direction of her neighborhood a few blocks off of downtown Divine and she fussed about it, but he wouldn’t argue with her. When Patrick made up his mind about something, there was no debating with him. For the most part she appreciated his concern. And she was grateful that he drove slowly so they could continue to search the deserted, rain-swept streets.
Patrick turned onto her street and they both gasped and gawked out the windshield. “Is that him? He made it all the way over here?” She checked the clock on the dash. They’d been searching for two hours.
She had the door open before Patrick had completely stopped the truck and she rushed to the drainage easement that ran along the length of the street. Beck was lying facedown, unconscious on the grassy slope, with the rain beating down on him. A half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s whiskey was by his head. The easement was already half full from the downpour and a cold chill went through her that rivaled the frigid rain pouring down on her as they knelt beside him. Another hour or two and his head would’ve been underwater.
“This isn’t you, Beck,” she whispered as she put her hand on his thick shoulder. He should’ve been clammy to the touch but she could feel heat burning through the soaked material of his shirt. “He’s running a fever.”