by Sarah Adams
“Okayyyyy, well, I’m glad you two have your fashion emergencies all sorted, because mine definitely isn’t important or anything.” Lucy shoots up off the bed and goes to her nightstand to pick up her phone. “I’m canceling. Clearly, it was too last minute. I shouldn’t have even said yes in the first place. I looked desperate. No one wants to look desperate…”
She keeps blabbering on like she does when she’s nervous, and as much as it hurts me to do it, I stand up and take the phone out of her hand. “You’re going on this date, Lucy.” Even if it kills me. She deserves to go out and have a good time.
I go to her closet next, taking matters into my own hands. Personally, I love that her whole wardrobe is made up of jeans and tees. She wears them better than anyone else I’ve ever seen, that’s for sure. But tonight, she needs something dressy that makes her feel more like a woman than a mom.
I push past almost all of her clothes, nearly losing hope, before I spot something red in the back. My body feels oddly tingly as I make contact with the soft fabric and remove it from the hanger, holding it up. Holy crap, this is hot. It’s a short cocktail dress in a deep red that makes my heart race.
“That one?!” Lucy asks, coming to stand beside me. “I didn’t get this one out because I haven’t worn it since I had Levi, and I doubt it will even fit me anymore. And also, it’s a little…sultry for a first date, don’t you think?”
Okay, yes, it’s a little sultry. But for the most part, it’s just a good-looking dress. I think it’s ridiculously sweet that Lucy considers this dress to be too much for a first date. For reasons I can’t even pinpoint, it makes me like her more. Lucy is real—what you see is what you get. Which is why it is full-on torture helping her pick out a dress that is going to catch another dude’s eye.
“I gotta see it on you before I can cast my official vote.”
She gives me a skeptical grin because she’s on to me. She knows I just want to see her in this dress. Snatching it out of my hand, she’s marching it with her into the bathroom. After shutting the door, I hear the sound of a zipper and resist groaning at the mental picture forming in my head.
I turn away from the door and busy myself with snooping around Lucy’s room. It’s messy but not gross. There are clothes on the floor and a few cups half full of water on the bedside table. I like it. It’s comfy. Lived in.
“Did you know this was my room before you moved in?” I yell to Lucy through the door.
“I guess that makes sense. I knew you were the old roommate, but before now, I never thought about that this would have been your room.”
I pick up a picture of her and Levi with their faces smooshed together making silly faces and smile. “Yeah. Does that bird still squawk every morning at seven?”
I’m just about to open her bedside table and take a peek when I hear the door to the bathroom squeak open. When I turn around, I fist my hands at my sides just to keep from reaching out for her. Shoot. I change my mind…that dress is too sultry for a first date.
My eyes skim from her sparkling blue eyes and rosy cheeks, down the length (the short length) of her dress. The red fabric stretches across her body and hugs every one of her feminine curves before landing a few inches above her knees. It’s not risqué on its own, but wrapped tightly around Lucy, it’s downright intoxicating.
She clears her throat, and I force my eyes up to hers. She’s wearing an unsure smile that boggles my mind. How does she not see how gorgeous she is?
Her nose scrunches, and she gives me a wobbly frown. “It’s too much, isn’t it?” Her hands run nervously along the fabric, and she looks down. “It’s too tight. My pre-baby body didn’t have the hips I do now.” She says hips like they’re a bad thing, like men just HATE when women have tantalizing curves to run their hands over. She does a little half-turn, letting me catch a glimpse of her back, noting the zipper is still down.
Lucy continues to rattle off reasons she thinks she looks like puke. “…and the hem is too short. Maybe all the added inches to my waist have sort of made the bottom hike up a little bit, you know? And I think the color clashes with my hairwaitwhatareyoudoing?” The last of her words all run together as I put my hands on her shoulders and spin her to face away from me.
The back of her dress is open, revealing a tempting amount of skin and the black strap of her bra. I pick up her auburn hair and push it all to one shoulder, watch her take in a deep breath, not letting it out. Moving probably more slowly than is needed, I grab the delicate zipper and begin to lift it, skimming the back of my hand against her soft, warm skin as I go. Every slight touch feels so charged I’m afraid my fingers are leaving blisters in their wake. My pulse hammers out the words you-idiot-you’ll-never-be-the-same as my hand glides up the small dip in her lower back.
Lucy’s head tilts down and to the side, as if she’s trying to sneak a peek at my reaction. I get the feeling this is a vulnerable moment for her. She’s standing stock-still, as if every single one of her senses is laser focused on me and my reaction to her.
I swallow when my knuckles trip over the black lace of her bra. I can’t help but smile because I like knowing this secret: Lucy wears a sexy bra under what she calls mom clothes. It’s like she’s been desperately trying to hide behind a comfortable facade, but inside, she’s still a woman who wants to feel attractive and desired. She wants to feel those things but is afraid to show it. If I could, I’d make Lucy feel both of those things without her ever having to voice it.
But I can’t…because her brother will hunt me down and make sure I’m never given the opportunity to do it again.
Once the zipper reaches the top, I fasten the tiny clasp at her neck, tension wrapping like a cord around every muscle in my body, restraining me from turning this into something more. I want to dip my head down and kiss a line up the side of her exposed neck. I want to breathe in her sweet, warm scent and let it fill my lungs for the rest of the night.
I clear my throat to dislodge my words as I sweep her hair back again. “You should wear this dress tonight. He’ll love it.” Even to my own ears, my voice sounds strained and gravelly.
Lucy slowly turns to face me, and her eyes sweep slowly over my features. She’s searching for the answer…the answer to why the air feels warm between us, why my pupils are dilated, why my voice sounds like sandpaper and I’m slowly backing away from her.
I remind myself that I’m retreating for tonight only. Not forever. Just for now.
Drew will come around, and when he does, I’m coming after Lucy.
“Where are you going?” she asks with lifted brows, and I grab my hat from the bed and put it back on, making a beeline for the door.
“Sorry, I just remembered I…have a thing.”
“Oh. Okay. Yeah…sure. You have a thing—totally fine. Well, thanks for coming to fly a kite today. Levi loved it. Oh, and thanks for the oil change. Now I have you to thank when my car doesn’t burst into flames.”
Wait, wait, wait. She’s rambling—something I’ve come to learn means she’s hiding her feelings. I take quick stock of my actions and realize they look bad. I spent the entire day with Lucy and her son (which was a big thing for her, letting me into Levi’s life) and then I see her in a dress that makes her feel uncomfortable and bolt with a lame excuse.
Nah, I’m not going to act like an idiot right now.
I pause my journey to the door and backtrack to Lucy. I stop just in front of her and smile warmly, putting my hands on her upper arms, and lean down to kiss her cheek. IT WAS A FRIENDLY KISS, DREW, SHEESH.
“Thank you for today. It was the best day I’ve had in a long time.” I want to kiss her right on her full mouth, but I refrain and let go of her instead. “You look gorgeous, Lucy. Enjoy your date tonight.”
She gives me a belated, whispered “Thank you” on my way out. In the living room, I find Levi, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he tries to fit two tiny Lego pieces together, now wearing his amazing dino pants. I give him a fist bump an
d tell him he’s the best freaking kite flier I’ve ever seen. His jaw drops on the word freaking, and I think I might have just taught him something new that Lucy won’t like. What can I say? I’m new to this. Hopefully, I’ll get the chance to learn.
Once I’m in my car, I make a quick call.
“Hey, Rachel, you up for going to dinner tonight around seven at Thistle?”
Okay, why did I let Cooper talk me into this dress? I’m racing up the sidewalk toward the restaurant, wearing my old red dress that feels about two sizes too small for me now, my boobs bouncing up and down, threatening to burst from the scooped neckline, and tripping over the much-too-high heels strapped to my feet. Did I mention I haven’t worn heels in at least four years?
Yeah. Terrible idea.
I think I was still buzzing from whatever that moment with Cooper was when I left the house. If I had been in my right mind, I’d have realized I look like a hooker in this dress. One good look at me and Ethan is going to get the wrong idea. Now, granted, I haven’t worn anything other than some sort of t-shirt and jeans or leggings combo in the last several years, so I might be over-exaggerating, but I don’t think so.
I step inside the fancy restaurant feeling like the PG-13 version of Cinderella—if her boobs were pushed up to her throat and her dress was threatening to burst at the seams. Seriously, if I make one wrong move, this whole thing is going to explode like a confetti cannon. It was a good thing Cooper zipped me up in it, because I never would have been able to achieve it on my own. I’m already planning on cutting myself out of it when I get home.
“Lucy?” a male voice sounds from behind me, and I turn to find a good-looking man, smiling with nice white teeth and all his hair. He looks very businessy in his navy suit and tie, but that’s not a bad thing. In fact, he looks great—like, if I’d never met Cooper before, this guy would probably make me turn my head if I passed him in the grocery store.
UGH. And there’s the problem. Cooper…he’s infiltrated my mind. Weaseled his Baywatch body and dazzling smile into my subconscious and bench-pressed the standard I used to measure men against.
“Yes, and you must be Ethan?” I say, extending my hand in his direction.
He takes it, and his smile deepens as he does a brief, polite scan of my body. DO NOT BLUSH, LUCY. This dress is too tight to add any extra heat.
“Wow,” says Ethan, with a tone of reverence I was not expecting. He reestablishes eye contact with me again and shakes his head lightly. “You look gorgeous.” He says it in a way that has me standing a little taller. Maybe this dress doesn’t make me look like a hooker after all.
Or…maybe he’s really into prostitutes.
“Thank you. It’s surprising that I’m not six foot and burly like my brother, right?”
He takes on a sheepish look. “I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I’ll admit, I was a little nervous when he mentioned I should ask out his sister without showing me a picture. You never know how closely siblings will resemble each other.”
We both chuckle lightly at this, and I’m surprised by how quickly acting like a dainty first date lady returns to me. Ha ha, why yes, Ethan, I am sophisticated and definitely did not eat a string cheese and fruit snacks on the way over here.
A moment later, the hostess calls our name and takes us to our table. I notice that Ethan places his hand on my lower back to guide me. It’s a little touchy-feely for a first date, but I don’t hate it. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t nice to feel wanted.
Too bad my mind rushes back to feeling Cooper’s rough hand glide up my spine, causing goosebumps to erupt down my arms. I shiver a little, and Ethan notices.
“Are you cold? Do you need my jacket?” he asks as we take our seats.
“No, I’m okay, thank you. Just a…little draft.” I laugh nervously and pick up my menu. I’m only a hundred and twenty seconds into this date and already I need a reprieve from acting normal. Normal is exhausting.
Also, I need to get Cooper out of my head. No more thoughts of that man or his abs or how sweet he looked with Levi up on his shoulders flying a kite. Since Cooper was not the one to ask me out on a date tonight, he’s got to go.
Except…is that…??? Surely not.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” I say, noticing the man behind Ethan as he walks through the front doors of the restaurant with a hot little brunette on his arm.
“What?” Ethan asks, looking up with furrowed brows.
Ah shoot, I didn’t mean to freak out out loud. I quickly cover my tracks and gesture toward the menu with an overly bright smile. “A burger! SO excited they have a burger on the menu. I thought this might be one of those snooty restaurants that only has”—it’s at this moment I realize I’m being rude and quickly change my conversational track—“amazing food that will ruin me for all other foods in the future.” I give a weak ha ha and regret who I am as a person deeply. I also track Cooper and his movements like I’m Jason Bourne and my target has arrived.
Ethan is nice, though, and chuckles softly, ignoring my odd outburst and returning his gaze to his own menu. “I hear you. I barely eat anything grown-up these days. It seems like all my daughter ever wants is chicken nuggets and mac & cheese.”
I should be so excited to be talking with Ethan about our kids and boxed pasta. I imagine most men don’t want to discuss child menus with their dates, so I should be savoring this moment and whipping out stories of the month when Levi refused to eat anything other than strawberry yogurt. The judgment from his pediatrician was STRONG. Instead, I have the distinct feeling of wanting to tell him to hush it up so I can focus on reading Cooper’s lips as he talks to his date across the room. They’re laughing about something. Ugh. What could possibly be so funny that she needs to lean across the table and touch his arm? Nothing. The tramp.
Here’s the thing: Cooper knew I was coming here tonight. And he knew what time. So, what the h-e-double-hockey-sticks is he doing over there with Miss Thing? At first, I think he doesn’t even remember I’m supposed to be here tonight; then, without even turning his head, his eyes cut directly to me, and he winks. HE FREAKING WINKS! Like he knew I was sitting here the whole time. Like he sought me out through the window before he even walked in.
He holds my gaze for two breaths, gives a quiet smirk as his gaze drops to my bare legs, and then slowly turns his eyes back to his date. I note, with both pride and confusion, that his smile fades when he looks at her.
“Lucy?” Ethan asks, like maybe he’s already said my name a few times. Oh shoot. I bet he did.
“Oh! Yep. That’s me. Sorry.” I smile and shrug my shoulders. “Zoned out there for a…” My sentence trails off when I notice my phone light up on the table. I always have it where I can see it in case my mom needs to get a hold of me about Levi. This is not my mom.
I quickly pick up my phone. “Sorry, let me just check this really quick. Could be my sitter.” It’s not. I’m a liar, and I’m going to Hades.
Cooper: Hi.
I cut my eyes to the side briefly and can see that Cooper isn’t even looking at his phone anymore. What’s his angle?
Lucy: Hi? What do you think you’re doing?
I set my phone down again and attempt to dive back into my date. Any responses from Cooper will just have to wait.
“So, tell me about yourself, Ethan.” I sound way too excited to hear about his life, like I’m overcompensating for wishing I was sitting across the restaurant instead. I hope he doesn’t pick up on that.
“Well, I’m sure you put two and two together and realized I’m divorced”—he whispers it dramatically like he knows it’s a dirty word—“and I have a daughter named Emily. I love my job at the hospital, and I prefer summer over winter.” Ew. Did that feel a little like a round of speed dating to you? It makes me nervous that the format seems to be ingrained in him—like maybe he’s done the whole five-minutes-who’s-next thing too many times. “What about you?”
“As you know, my name is Lucy. I have a four-ye
ar-old son named Levi”—why am I doing the speed-dating thing now? Oh well, I’ve committed—“and I prefer cake to ice cream.”
He laughs like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. I am so bored, though. Thankfully, Ethan gets a phone call from HIS sitter and says he has to take it.
My phone buzzes.
I try to keep my gaze appropriately fixed on my date and NOT at that screen. My eyes are watering because I’ve taken it to the next level and won’t blink either. Must not look away. Prepare to ask this man questions about his daughter’s sleeping habits, or daytime activities, or…oh, screw it.
Cooper: You look too hot for him. Is he a snooze fest?
Lucy: Stop it! What are you doing here??? Besides, you don’t have much room to talk. Who’s Barbie? Can you hear her brain rattle when she moves?
Cooper: Don’t be jelly. She’s a lawyer, if you must know, you sexist.
Lucy: What type of lawyer? Plastic surgery malpractice? I can see her boobs from all the way over here, so I know she must get a good discount.
Cooper: I can see your boobs from all the way over here, but you don’t see me judging.
I gasp and look up to find Cooper smiling at his water glass.
Ethan hangs up with an apologetic smile. The waitress then comes to the table at that exact moment, and I’m given five more seconds to respond while Ethan puts in his order, and then I HAVE to put my phone away.
Lucy: It’s different. I have mom boobs. These babies are unpredictable, and you never know how they will react to sudden movements. Hers are so fake and perky I’m worried your eye might get poked out if she leans forward an inch.
There. I replied, and now I will enjoy my date with this nice, normal guy Drew approves of. Is it a bad sign that we’ve spent most of the ten minutes we’ve been here on our phones?