Carol beamed at Lucy and suddenly Lucy wondered what the woman was up to. Carol could be just as challenging as the rest of the long-standing committee members. Why was she being so nice? What was she up to?
She knows you’re pregnant.
The thought sprang into her mind unbidden. It was ridiculous. There was no way Carol would know. Just like Juliette, who knew her much better than Carol, hadn’t known. Lucy had gone all the way to Dallas to purchase the pregnancy tests and she’d taken care to dispose of them in a public Dumpster when she’d been out of town on business. Besides, if Carol knew, she would undoubtedly be too busy broadcasting the news to anyone who would listen to be this nice.
Bottom line: there was no way Carol could know. Lucy forced herself to shake off the ridiculous thought and wrap up the meeting. Sure enough, as soon as they were finished and heading toward their cars, Carol caught up with her.
“Lucy, darling,” she chirped. “Do you have a moment?”
Lucy’s blood ran cold. There was no way she could know. She stopped and smiled. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”
“Are you seeing anyone these days?”
Lucy took a steadying breath. “Why do you ask?” She took special care to infuse sunshine into her voice so that she didn’t sound defensive.
Carol smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Because if you are unattached, I have somebody special I would like you to meet.”
Oh.
Ooh.
What in the world was she supposed to say to that? She was in no position to meet anybody. She was in no position for anything that would make her life more complicated than it already was.
“I am sort of...seeing someone.”
“What do you mean sort of? Either you are or you aren’t.”
“It’s complicated,” Lucy said.
Boy, was that ever the truth. It couldn’t get much more complicated than this—she loved Zane, but Zane didn’t love her. Zane wanted to marry her, but she didn’t want to marry Zane. And the cherry on top—she was pregnant. Nobody in his right mind would want to date a woman who was pregnant with another man’s baby.
“Oh, honey, why do so many nice girls like you allow themselves to be in situations that are complicated? Isn’t that just another way of saying a guy is afraid of commitment? I’d say if he’s so complicated that he can’t recognize a good catch like you when you’re standing right in front of him, he doesn’t deserve you. I want you to meet my nephew, Luke. He will treat you right and he’s a good-looking guy. A veterinarian. Lives in Houston. A good catch. Just like you.”
Carol wiggled her brows and fished a photo out of her wallet.
He was, indeed, a good-looking guy. Even so, Luke might be the catch of the century, but he wouldn’t think much of her when he found out she was pregnant.
Talk about complicated.
That was when something clicked into place—it really didn’t break her heart to know that other men would find her unappealing, or even damaged, after they found out she was having a baby on her own.
She didn’t care. She really didn’t care. And it was the most freeing feeling she’d had in ages.
Her baby would be family and as far as Lucy was concerned the love of her family was all she needed.
Her phone dinged, signaling an incoming text from Zane. Her heart leaped at the sound of his special text tone, but she left the phone in her purse. She’d look at it when she got in the car.
“Carol, I’m sure Luke is a wonderful man. And I appreciate you thinking of me, but I have too much on my plate right now with work and the picnic committee. I’m sure you understand.”
“Honey, just meet him. That’s all I’m asking. I’m not saying you have to marry him.”
This time Lucy’s phone rang. It was the ringtone she had assigned to Zane. Thank God nobody knew her assigned rings. “I have to take this, Carol. I’ll talk to you later.”
Lucy turned toward her car before the woman could say anything else.
She waited until she was a few feet away before she answered Zane’s call.
“Hello?” Her heart was beating like mad. She took care to keep her voice low.
“Hey, it’s me. I need to see you tonight. May I come over?”
Just like that. As if nothing had happened last night. She should’ve said no. She should’ve told him to leave her alone. The words to the song “I Told Ya I Love Ya, Now Get Out” played in her head. Because he wouldn’t be popping in like this once he moved to Ocala. And even though the words and her empowerment song were in her head, she said, “Sure. I’ll be home after six.”
* * *
“Why have we never dated?” Zane asked as he stood in Lucy’s kitchen helping her chop the vegetables he’d brought her from the crate that Mrs. Winters had brought him from her garden.
Lucy’s head jerked up and she looked at him as if he had just started reciting the words to a Dr. Seuss book.
“Because you never asked me out.” She sounded a little irritated, or maybe she was just perplexed. He seemed to have that effect on her these days.
When he’d handed the vegetables to her in the rumpled brown paper sack, they’d seemed like a very inadequate peace offering after the run-in he’d had with her last night.
He would’ve given anything for her not to hate him. Anything.
Anything except his love, which was the only thing she really wanted and the one thing he wasn’t able to give her, because he was incapable of falling in love. He had no doubts now, because if anybody was worth loving, it was Lucy.
Even so, he couldn’t lie to her. She deserved better than that.
But she’d seemed pleased with the vegetables and maybe even glad to see him—or at least willing to see him. And she had invited him to stay for dinner.
“Why have you never asked me out?” she countered. “Oh, wait, I know. Because you were too busy putting the moves on Bambi and Bunny and Bimbo—sometimes all at the same time—to fit me in.”
“I never dated anybody named Bambi or Bunny or Bimbo.”
“Yes, you did, because that’s what I called them.”
“Remind me to not let you choose the name for our baby.”
“I will choose a lovely name for our child.”
“We will choose the name,” he said. “Luce, we’re in this together.”
The joking fell silent and the only sounds in the kitchen were the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board. She had put him to work chopping the tomatoes, carrots and a cucumber for a salad that would go with the spaghetti and turkey meatballs she was making for dinner.
Now was as good a time as any to finish saying what he had come to say. But damn if he wasn’t nervous. What the hell? When was the last time a woman had made him nervous? But he was. Dry mouth. Racing heart. Overthinking.
Get over yourself, man.
He set down the knife and turned to face her. “Obviously, I’ve gone through periods of my life where I was looking for a different kind of woman. Different than you, I mean.”
Her right brow shot up in a way that made him a little crazy.
“You keep digging yourself in deeper, don’t you?” She was goading him. “At this rate, by the end of the night you’ll probably be pretty close to six feet under. So, how am I different from your usual cast of fluffy woodland pets, Zane?”
But it was a good kind of crazy, one that, if he hadn’t been so dense, might have made him realize a long time ago they had something good. That she was a good kid...er, woman. A good woman. Lucy may be a few years younger than him, but she was most decidedly a woman now. He had to keep an iron grip on his willpower so as not to let his gaze fall to her oh, so womanly curves, which were making him more than a little crazy, too.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t care a
bout the past, Lucy. The past doesn’t matter. I care about now and what I came here to say is that I think we should try dating.”
She scrunched up her face as if it was the most distasteful suggestion she’d heard in a long time. It wasn’t the way he thought she’d react. Why should he be surprised when she always kept him guessing?
Not even twenty-four hours ago she’d told him she was in love with him. He knew better than to bring that up, but damn it all to hell, she was more confusing than any woman he’d ever met. She was like a riddle he couldn’t figure out. A challenge that both thrilled and scared him to death.
The last thing in the world he ever wanted to do was hurt her. And he’d done that already. He’d let her down by letting this happen. He’d wanted her in the worst way the night they’d hooked up. He should’ve been stronger. He should’ve been strong enough for the both of them. Strong enough to walk away. If he had, then they wouldn’t be where they were right now.
A strange feeling washed over him, because the more time he had to get used to where they were right now, the more it didn’t seem like such a bad place.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“I said I think we should try dating.”
“Other people? I think you’ve already established that.” Her face fell and she turned back to the stove and stirred the spaghetti sauce.
“Lucy, I’m talking about us. I think you and I should try dating. Each other. You and me.”
She didn’t turn around. She just kept stirring the sauce. One of those sassy, old-fashioned songs from the ’60s that she liked so much played in the background. Something about windmills and the mind. Whatever that meant.
Finally, when he couldn’t take her silence any longer, he said, “Will you say something? Please?”
He saw her shoulders rise and fall, but she still didn’t turn around. So he walked over to her, bridging the distance. He wasn’t sure if he should touch her. He wanted to, but that was for purely selfish reasons. No, it wasn’t. He wanted to comfort her, but he was afraid that, again, his good intentions would lead them straight into hell.
“Lucy, look at me.”
She raised her hand to her face before she turned around to face him. He could virtually see her stiffening resolve.
“You want to date me? Why?”
Now she did look truly irritated.
“Because you and I need to get to know each other on a different level. I mean, we know each other well. In some ways, you know me better than any of the past fuzzy woodland creatures, as you called them.”
“Fluffy woodland pets,” she amended. Then she shrugged. “Although if you think creature is a better word, then go for it.”
She rolled her eyes and chuckled a little, but it was dry and humorless. Still, he could sense that she was softening. He understood her hesitation. In fact, all day long it was all he could think about. She was all he could think about. Her and her earnest declaration of love.
Lucy loved him. How could he have missed that? How could he have been so completely blind to something that now seemed so completely obvious? After he’d left her, he’d sat with the newness of it most of the night. Even when sleep had found him, and it had come in fits and starts, he would wake up with the echo of her words in his head. And every time he closed his eyes he would see her heartbroken face, as if it had been imprinted in his mind.
More than anything, he wished he could return her feelings. But even though he cared about her—more than he’d ever cared about any woman he’d dated—he couldn’t ever recall a time when he had been in love.
He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar. And telling Lucy he was in love with her would have been a lie. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. That didn’t mean he couldn’t treat her like the woman he wanted to marry. Like someone he could...love.
“You and I have sort of been all over the place. We grew up together. We’re friends. We made love—”
She cringed, closed her eyes and made a face, but he wasn’t sorry he’d said it.
“Lucy, we did. There’s no sense in trying to sugarcoat it or pretend like it didn’t happen. We did and it was great. And now we’re having a baby. But I think we need to back up a little bit. We need to start over and build our relationship from the ground up. Even if you won’t marry me, we need to know each other on a deeper level so that we can successfully coparent. That’s why I think we need to try dating each other and getting to know each other as a man and a woman. So what do you say, Lucy Campbell—will you let me take you out on a date?”
Chapter Five
Lucy agreed to a date on one condition: things didn’t get weird. Or any weirder than they already were. No flowers. No dressing up. No fancy dinners. That wasn’t them, it wasn’t who they were. Things like that upped the odds that things between them would be strained and...get weird. Things like that screamed expectations! The last thing she needed right now was to get her hopes up about anything. Especially when it came to Zane Phillips.
It was logical to put one and one together and expect two. It would be too easy to think that his willingness to downsize a marriage proposal to a first date, rather than getting mad and not speaking to her, might mean that Zane hadn’t ruled out the possibility that he could love her. At least he was trying. He hadn’t given up on her.
There she was, getting her hopes up. In this case, her better judgment warned that one plus one was more likely to add up to expectations. She always had hated math.
They were going downtown to get ice cream and take a walk. It would be simple and informal. Unpretentious. They could be themselves and just be.
Freshly showered, Lucy had blown out her hair and brushed some Moroccan argan oil through her brown locks to make them glisten. She’d kept her makeup to a minimum, just enough to make her look polished and put together—like she’d made an effort. Making an effort didn’t mean she was making more out of this than she should. Nope. Absolutely no expectations here, she thought as she returned the lip-gloss wand to the container and gave herself a once-over in the mirror. In fact, she was doing this for herself because it made her feel good and everyone knew feeling good was the best armor a woman could wear.
As she stood in front of her closet, surveying its contents, her phone dinged, alerting her to a text. It wasn’t Zane’s text tone, but she took a look anyway. It was from Chelsea, her sister-in-law-to-be.
If you don’t have plans this afternoon, do you want to go look at wedding shoes with me?
Chelsea and Ethan were getting married in a couple of weeks. The ceremony and reception were going to be at the Campbell Wedding Barn. Chelsea, who had relocated to Celebration, Texas, from London, was a real-life British noblewoman who had gone to college—or university, as Chelsea would say—with Juliette. Aside from her accent, people would never guess that Chelsea came from such a highbrow background. She was about as down-to-earth as anyone could imagine—except when it came to shoes. She had a penchant for good shoes—expensive shoes. Hence the reason the wedding was two weeks away and she had not yet found the shoes she would wear with her dress.
Lucy racked her brain for a moment, trying to figure out what to tell Chelsea about why she wasn’t available. She couldn’t say she was working, because with her luck she’d run into her downtown, or Chelsea would swing by the barn—and it wouldn’t be the truth. Why did she feel she had to lie? Why not just tell her the truth?
Lucy texted back. Next time? I told Zane I’d hang out with him this afternoon. I doubt he would enjoy shoe shopping.
Chelsea responded quickly. No prob. Tell Zane I said hello.
See, Chelsea hadn’t thought it was weird that she and Zane were getting together.
So, stop making it weird.
She was trying, but the fact remained that it shouldn’t be this hard. She knew it was fa
nciful, but she wanted Zane to fall in love with her—like when the prince looked at Cinderella and realized she was his one true love. Too bad she didn’t have a fairy godmother to help her out. If Dorothy was still here...what would Dorothy think of their situation?
There was no time for daydreams. He would be there soon and she needed to finish getting ready.
Before she chose a dress, she streamed “Somethin’ Stupid,” because making fun of herself was the best way to stop taking herself so seriously. She reframed her focus and selected a feminine yellow print sundress from her closet and a pair of cute cowboy boots to go with it.
The dress was fun and flirty and made her feel girlie. She debated whether or not to curl her hair, and even went as far as firing up her curling iron, but in the end she opted for pulling it back into a ponytail. Curls would look as if she was trying too hard. She probably was, but Zane didn’t need to know that. He just needed to be captivated by the finished look.
It ended up being a good thing that she’d opted for the ponytail, because a knock sounded at her front door. She glanced at her watch.
Right on time.
She pulled the boots on and made herself slow down and take her time getting to the door, when what she really wanted to do was rush. Once she was there, she paused and took a deep breath before she turned the knob.
Zane stood on her front porch holding a...baby cradle?
* * *
“What are you doing? Come inside, quickly.” Lucy tugged his arm and nearly made him drop the cradle, which was heavier than it looked, because it was one of those solid-wood, sturdy old-fashioned pieces of furniture. The type they didn’t make anymore.
What the hell?
“Careful,” he said as he cleared the door, but not before grazing the doorjamb with one of the runners.
“Someone might see you,” Lucy said as she closed the door behind her.
“Am I not supposed to be here?” Zane asked. “I thought we had a date.”
Lucy frowned at him. “Of course you’re supposed to be here. Just not with a baby bed. That’s not exactly a typical substitution for first-date flowers.”
A Bride, a Barn, and a Baby Page 7