“What do you want?” Her question held a distracted air to it and I knew she was asking about more than the now. She wanted to know my general intentions.
I don’t make a habit of sharing my intentions as they’re usually wicked.
Therefore, I answered for the now. “I’ve come to lure you away for a picnic on a mountain.”
“A mountain?”
“That’s right.”
She crossed her arms, her eyes sharpening. I could see she’d assumed I’d been trying to make her the butt of a joke. “There’s no mountain around here.”
“There is.” Her friend Broderick joined the conversation, stepping next to me as though he’d been asked to validate my claim. I stiffened.
My assessment of Broderick could be summed up in one word: smooth. The last thing I needed was for her smooth friend to invite himself along.
“What?” Lucy frowned at us both.
“Rattlesnake Mountain, though it’s more of a hill.” He tilted his chin in the direction of the hiking trail. “The views of the lake from the top are awesome.”
“Yes. Awesome.” I nodded, struggling to find a way to cut him out should he insist on accompanying us.
I was just about to volunteer that I had only two glasses for the champagne when Broderick gripped Lucy by the upper arm and tugged her toward me, basically shoving her into my chest. Automatically, my hands lifted to hold her in place.
“You two go and work off . . . energy,” he said, nodding once like all was decided.
“Rick—” Lucy started to protest, but she didn’t attempt to break free of my hold. Rather, her hands came to rest on my chest.
“Lucy.” His eyes widened meaningfully, though I couldn’t interpret his meaning.
She opened her mouth like she was on the edge of launching a complaint.
Broderick interrupted her again, but he addressed me, “Did you know Lucy was thinking about becoming a missionary?”
She snapped her mouth shut.
I cocked an eyebrow at this news. “Really?”
“Yes. But she decided to skip the missionary position and instead focus on charity work in the States. With dogs.”
“With dogs?” This news struck a chord and my eyes moved over Lucy with new, albeit unwilling, appreciation. I’d had a dog when I was younger. Rather, the family had a dog, though I’d considered him only mine. A pet was everything to an unloved child. I’d mourned his passing alone. At the time it had felt like losing a limb. Or maybe an organ.
As I studied her I supposed it made sense that she was an animal lover. She seemed like that sort, empathetic and compassionate. I felt a niggling thread of guilt and quickly quashed it.
“Yes,” he continued, still looking at Lucy, “the position with dogs—”
“Okay, we have to go.” Her usually soft voice was shrill as she grabbed my hand and tugged me away from her friend. “That mountain isn’t going to hike itself.”
I allowed myself to be led, but made her pause so I could collect the basket. She pulled her hand out of mine. I noticed her gaze flicker to Broderick then away to the planks of the porch.
Frowning at her averted gaze, I glanced at Broderick. He watched us with a slight smirk. When I caught his eye his smirk widened into an odd smile, odd, because it was encouraging.
I tried to return it.
I couldn’t.
So I turned away.
As we walked off the porch, side by side but not touching, I resolved to follow through with my plan as soon as possible. I already wanted Lucy. Nothing would be more disastrous than actually liking her too.
***
“You’re being quiet. Why are you being so quiet?”
Because I’m watching your glorious arse as you climb the hill and lamenting that I’ll only be allowed to grab it once. If I’m lucky.
“Uh, was I?” I shook my head, redirecting my attention to her face.
She furrowed her brow at me over her shoulder. We’d been walking single file up the hill with her in front by several paces, her bottom at my eye level.
She was winded. I was not.
“What are you doing?” Her tone was laced with suspicion as she gathered deep, panting breaths. The sound and movement were distracting.
“Admiring the view,” I answered immediately because the words were true even if they were misleading.
Her lips flattened, though she was still breathing with difficulty, and she shifted her gaze to the emerging skyline around us. I kept mine fastened on her profile, allowing myself a moment to study the image before me.
Much of her hair had pulled free of her braid and was billowing around her shoulders. I must’ve done something remarkably good when I was younger, or something remarkably bad, because she was still in her yoga pants and tank top. A sliver of her toned belly and side were visible, as her shirt had lifted during the hike.