February 10th
“Will you come?” I ask, giving Lucy my best attempt at puppy dog eyes.
It’s been almost three months since I learned she was pregnant. Three months of not letting her push me away. Three months of being there for her in any way I could.
It took time, but she’s finally starting to consider me a friend.
She avoids my eyes. “I’m not sure. I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your family.”
If anything, my family has done nothing but push their ways into her life once it became clear I had feelings for her, Abby in particular. The only reason I got to bring her to her doctor appointment today was because one of Abby’s closings got pushed up.
My eyebrows shoot up. “Intrude? I’m inviting you. You won’t be intruding. Besides, our Thompson March birthdays slash St. Patrick’s Day party is a tradition you have to experience.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Remind me whose birthdays are in March again.”
When my mouth drops open, she hurriedly adds, “Besides yours.”
I grin, pleased she remembered. “Good save. Eli, Finley, and Paige.”
“Will Finley be back from Texas for it?”
Noah and Finley have been in Texas working on their beach house and helping Finley’s cousin Heather and her boyfriend Malcolm move into their new place. Considering she’s due in May, Finley is mainly supervising.
“They’ll be back,” I say.
She nonchalantly looks out the passenger window. “Don’t you want to bring a date?”
I bite back a smile. “You can be my date.”
The weight of her gaze hits me. “I don’t want them to get the wrong idea about our relationship. Half of the nurses at my doctor’s office think I’m having your baby.”
Let them think that. “Is that so bad?”
From the corner of my eye I watch her cross her arms. “You did not just ask that.”
I hazard a glance her way. “I did. Don’t pretend you don’t already know I plan to be here for you once the baby is here.”
She deflates, a whoosh of breath leaving her. “Gideon.”
“Do you have to be home anytime soon?”
Her chest rises as she inhales. “Why?”
Nothing is easy with her. Even so, I can’t lie, it’s one of the things I like most about her. “We’re going to make a detour.”
“Is this your way of changing the subject?”
I shake my head. “I’m not changing the subject, just the location where we’ll have it.”
She doesn’t say anything right away. My pulse picks up while I wait for her to fight me.
“Where are we going?”
Relief flows through me. “I thought we could stop for hot cocoa.”
Her arms uncross as she points out the window. “You’ve passed at least three places that serve it.”
“I’m not stopping at a gas station for this conversation.”
She lowers her arm. “Okay, where then?”
It’s my turn to point out the window. “There.”
Leaning forward, she squints in the direction I’m pointing. “Do you mean Woodlake Mountain?”
I nod. “Have you ever been to the lodge?”
She smiles to herself. “When I was little, grandpa taught me how to ski on Woodlake. After my lessons, he’d take me for a hot chocolate at the lodge and let me drink it by the big fireplace.”
Her reaction is exactly what I hoped it would be. “I learned to ski here too. Who knows, maybe there were times we skied right past each other back then.”
Looking my way, her smile becomes thoughtful. “Stranger things have happened.”
We’re silent as I navigate the narrow road that winds halfway up the mountain. The parking lot, and lodge are centrally located between the two main lifts. The bottom half of the mountain is made up of easier trails, the top reserved for the more difficult ones.
After I park, I walk around my truck to offer Lucy my arm. “In case there are any slick spots.”
She doesn’t hesitate accepting it. There was a time where she flat out refused my help. I just stubbornly continued to offer it until one day she surprised me by accepting it.
“Do you think they’d make me a plate of bacon?”
I don’t even blink at her cravings anymore. The stuff she asks for isn’t crazy, though the pairings are odd. Still, hot cocoa and bacon are served together at breakfast all the time. It makes a lot more sense than sunny side up eggs and a root beer float.
At least she’s never asked for something like chocolate covered Brussel Sprouts. I’d have to draw the line there.
“We can ask. I think they have a BLT on their lunch menu so it’s not like they can say no because it’s a breakfast food.”
When we reach the curb, I try to take more of her weight. From the back, it’s still hard to tell she’s pregnant, let alone getting close to starting her third trimester.
The biggest changes are she moves around slower, probably because her center of gravity has changed, and she will pass out at the drop of a hat. It’s a miracle she didn’t fall asleep on the drive up here.
“If they can’t do bacon maybe they’ll give me a tomato.”
I pause at the door to the lodge. “To go with your cocoa?”
She gives me an irritated huff. “You’re the one who brought up BLTs. It reminded me how much I love tomatoes.”
I’m not going to touch that logic. “We can ask.”
I pull open one of the large wooden double doors and hold it for her.
She lets go of my arm. “Thanks.”
The lodge isn’t packed but with plenty of snow on the mountain, there’s no shortage of people here to enjoy it.
“Man, this place looks exactly like I remember.”
I direct her toward the small restaurant. “It hasn’t changed much over the years. Like they say, if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.”
“It all felt so much bigger back then,” she says while turning in place and staring up at the wooden ceiling.
“Everything seems bigger when we’re little.”
Stopping mid-turn, her hand slides protectively over her belly. I can only imagine what she’s thinking. Maybe she’s worrying over how little her baby will be in comparison to the world once he or she is here.
I’m in no hurry, but we’re in the way of people coming and going from the lodge. Lucy doesn’t argue when I guide her toward the small restaurant.
A server waves to us as we walk in. “Sit wherever you like, I’ll be by in a moment to get you started.”
Lucy points out a small table close to the floor to ceiling wall of windows. Somehow, I’m not surprised she would be drawn to the view. From here, we can see both lifts.
There are laminated menus propped up against a napkin dispenser. I pass one to her and skim another one to see if anything changed.
Like the sun setting in the West, some things never change.
Lucy ignores the menu, her eyes glued to the skiers and snowboarders coming down the mountain. “There are more people than I expected from the parking lot.”
The server walks up, notepad in hand. “We had a busload come in today. The bus had to park down the mountain. I’m Fran by the way. Can I get either of you started on something?”
Her arrival makes Lucy give a little jump and scramble to pick up and skim the menu. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t looked yet.”
Fran ticks her notepad into a pocket of her apron. “Take your time. I’ll come back in a few.”
I only plan on getting a coffee myself. Settling back in my chair, I enjoy watching Lucy decide what to have with her cocoa.
Running her finger down the sheet, she says, “Oh that sounds good. Hmm, or maybe that.”
At no point does she ask my opinion. Lucy isn’t going to order something because I suggest it, she’s the type who wants to decide on her own.
I try not to gag when she orders a crab roll to go with her cocoa, tho
ugh Fran takes one look at her rounded belly and nods knowingly.
As soon as she’s gone, Lucy stands. “Could you point me in the direction of the bathroom?”
I stand as well and step behind her. Resting one hand on her shoulder, I point out the bathrooms with the other.
She glances back at me and smiles. “Thanks, I’ll be right back.”
I give her shoulder a gentle squeeze before I let her go. As I reclaim my seat, I notice I’m not the only one watching her go. There’s a table of semi-familiar looking women across the restaurant.
The moment Lucy is out of eyesight, one of them beelines it my way. “Gideon Thompson, is that you?”
She’s pretty, her cheeks pink from a morning out on the slopes, but I can’t remember her name or how she knows me. “Can I help you?”
She rests her hand on my bicep. “It is you. I wasn’t sure from across the room. How’ve you been?”
I look down at her hand on my arm. “Do I know you?”
A feigned shocked expression comes over her face before she whines, “I can’t believe you don’t remember me.”
Faces are one thing I’m good with, even if time has passed or the time I spent with someone was short. It’s rare I don’t remember a person. Now if she changed her hair color or got some work done, that could explain it.
“It’s me, Allison Dearborn”
My high school girlfriend.
For the first time since she came over, she looks nervous. What she doesn’t do, is move her hand.
“How’ve you been?” She asks, ignoring my lack of response to her name.
“Who’s this, honey?”
I come close to jumping out of my chair at Lucy’s voice. She stands behind my chair and bends, wrapping her arms around my neck.
At that, Allison’s hand drops.
Lucy’s cheek is pressed against mine and I wonder if she can hear the way my heart begins to thunder in my chest in response.
I motion to Allison. “This is Allison Dearborn. She’s an old classmate of mine.”
Lucy straightens and offers Allison her hand. “It’s always fun meeting Gideon’s friends. I’m Lucy.”
Their handshake is awkward at best.
Once it’s done, Lucy moves to reclaim her seat, not missing the way Allison stares at her baby bump.
My eyes widen when Lucy grabs my hand and presses it to her belly, her eyes locked with Allison’s. “We’re due the end of June.”
Her hands cover mine as she smiles sweetly up at Allison.
“C-congratulations,” Allison stammers, taking a step back.
I grin. Let people think it’s my baby, I don’t care. “Thank you.”
Allison motions over her shoulder. “I should be getting back to my friends.”
Lucy tips her head toward an empty chair. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us? We’re just going to be talking possible baby names.”
Evil woman.
Allison looks like a deer in headlights. “No, no. I’d only be intruding. It was nice meeting you.”
It could be the polished gleam off the hardwood floors, but I wouldn’t be shocked if there wasn’t a steam trail behind her feet as fast as she raced back to her table.
Lucy moves my hand back to the arm of my chair. Instantly I miss the warmth of her body and her hands.
Lucy glances at Allison’s table. “I hope that was okay.”
I lean forward to get closer to her. “I don’t mind. How could you tell she was bugging me?”
She narrows her eyes. “Your back stiffened the second she touched you. Anyone could look at you and tell you were uncomfortable. I’m glad you’re not annoyed at me because she was pissing me off.”
Her words surprise me. “You could tell all of that?”
She shrugs. “You’re physically affectionate with the people you’re close to. You never stiffen up like that when you’re comfortable.”
“How’d you get so good at reading my body language?”
Her mouth opens and closes before opening again.
I laugh. “I wasn’t trying to put you on the spot. I’m impressed. It’d be great if more people understood it.”
Her face relaxes. “I guess it’s something I picked up when I got serious about narration. People watching became work research. In the beginning, I mainly cared about accents and tones of voice in different situations. The more I paid attention, the more I noticed.”
I want to ask why she’s ignoring how clear it is that I’m interested in her, but the arrival of our order, and self-preservation, stops me.
Cocoa and crab rolls are consumed in record time. Afterward, Lucy leans back in her chair, a contented smile on her face.
“Did you like it?”
Her smile gets sleepy. “It was delicious.”
It’s my turn to read her body language. “You’re going to crash on the way home.”
That temporarily revives her. “Am not.”
Twenty minutes later her gentle snores accompany me as I drive.
When I reach her place, I give her hand a squeeze. “We’re back.”
She blinks at me before her lids slowly close again. Time for more drastic measures.
Climbing out of my truck, I unlock the front door first before collecting Lucy. With one arm under her knees, and the other around her shoulders, I carry her across the drive, up the stairs, and over the threshold.
I figured the first time I’d do this would be after my wedding, with my hopefully conscious bride. Lucy presses her cheek to my neck, the warmth of her skin a balm to the March winds.
“Are we there yet?”
I grin to myself. She is cute in ways I never knew I’d like.
“Go back to sleep.”
She snuggles closer. “Kay.”
Leaving the front door open behind me, I carry her straight to her bedroom and lower her onto her bed. As soon as I pull away, her arms reach for me, pulling me back down toward her.
“Lucy.”
“Stay.”
I don’t comment on how much her sleepy order sounds like a dog command. “I have to shut the doors.”
“Later.”
One-word responses are all she’s managing at the moment.
“I can’t leave them open.”
Safe as this neighborhood is, leaving both my truck and her front door wide open is an invitation for some idiot to steal something.
Her fingers grasp at the fabric of my coat. “No.”
Shit. The only thing stopping me from lying beside her is those damn doors. I can’t just leave both of them open no matter how much I’d like to.
If only she clung to me like this when she was awake. “I promise I’ll come right back.”
Her arms drop. “Kay.”
Pausing in the doorway of her bedroom, I watch as her body relaxes further into sleep.
Shaking my head, I make quick work of shutting both doors before locking up.
My phone rings stopping me before I reach her room.
I answer it quickly, not wanting my ringer to disturb Lucy. “Hello.”
“Hey Gid,” Abby replies.
I lean against the wall in the hallway. “What’s going on?”
“Where are you?”
I’m in no mood to chat. “I’m busy. What do you need?”
There’s a huff before she says, “I wanted to see how Lucy’s appointment went. I tried calling her first but it went to voicemail. Oh, and I heard some gossip about you guys and wanted to see if it was true.”
“The appointment went well. She’s sleeping now which is why she didn’t answer her phone, and what gossip did you hear?”
“My my, aren’t we in a hurry?”
I stare up at the ceiling and will my sister to get to the point. “Abby, like I said, I’m busy. Could you just spit it out?”
Another huff. “Why are you so busy? It’s your offseason.”
Pulling my phone from my ear I tip my head down to glare at it for a few seconds before
I bring it back to my ear. “If you don’t start talking in two seconds, I’m hanging up.”
There’s some grumbling on the other end. “You’re no fun. All right, I heard Allison Dearborn ran into Lucy and you at Woodlake Mountain and Lucy told her it was your baby.”
My lips tip up at the memory of Allison’s shocked expression and how quickly she scampered away. “You could say Lucy implied it and didn’t correct Allison’s assumption.”
“What is going on with you two?”
My sister and I don’t speak daily, but we’re close enough to call or meet up weekly. “Nothing has changed since the last time you and I talked.”
“I disagree, even if it was implied, letting people think you’re her baby’s father has to mean something.”
If only. “Don’t read too much into it. We were on our way back from her doctor. No matter how many times she’s corrected them, the nurses all think I’m the dad. Trust me, it’s easier to let people think the baby is mine than to keep explaining I’m not. Plus, Allison was trying to get friendly with me and wasn’t getting the hint I’m not interested.”
Abby gasps. “She was hitting on you? That little, ugh, after the way she ditched you in high school, and in front of Lucy?”
Her outrage makes me smile. Allison better pray she doesn’t cross paths with Abby any time soon or she’ll get an earful.
“Lucy was in the bathroom.”
“Well, I guess that makes it a little better,” Abby replies.
“They didn’t talk until Lucy got back to the table, then Allison left.”
“Good. I never liked her.”
I push away from the wall. “Now that you have your gossip, do you need anything else?”
“What are you in such a hurry for?”
Deciding honesty is the best policy, I tell her. “Lucy asked me to lie down with her.”
Abby inhales sharply. “What are you talking to me for? Go be with her.”
She doesn’t need to tell me twice.
14
Lucy
“We’re not dating,” I repeat into the phone.
“Fine, you’re not technically dating as in calling each other boyfriend, girlfriend, and kissing but, you’re dating,” Rissa replies.
My Perfect Fix (The Fix Book 4) Page 13