Lucy & the Lieutenant

by Helen Lacey

  He sighed softly and rested the remote on his knee. “Okay...then, yes. When I was in the military part of my job was to translate intelligence.”

  “I thought they used civilians for that kind of thing.”

  “They do,” he replied. “But there are times when the front line is no place for a civilian. Part of my training included learning the local language and a few of the dialects.”

  “Because you have an aptitude for languages?”

  “I guess,” he said and fiddled with the remote.

  “You were one of those people who breezed through high school without really trying, right?” she asked.

  A pulse throbbed in his cheek. “You could say that.”

  “You would have made a good geek,” she said, lightening the mood a little. “Well, except for the blue eyes and broad shoulders.”

  He turned up the volume a little and took a slice of pizza. “But I sucked at math,” he admitted. “I still do. So I would never have made your calculus team.”

  Lucy shook her head, as if mocking him. “Shame...you missed some really exciting get-togethers where we discussed differential and integral calculus. Of course, you would have also missed out on having a date for the prom.”

  He groaned. “Are we back to that again? I told you, prom is overrated.”

  “Ha,” she scoffed and took a bite of pizza. “So you say, Mr. Popularity.”

  He laughed and the sound filled her insides with a kind of fuzzy warmth that was so ridiculous she got mad with herself. Just friends. Remember that, she said to herself. She glanced sideways and observed his handsome profile. It was strange being with him...and yet, absurdly easy.

  “I think you’re confusing me with someone else.”

  “Really?” she queried. “Let’s see, weren’t you the quarterback with the pretty cheerleader girlfriend?”

  “Are you trying to make the point that I was a cliché?”

  “Nope,” she replied and took another bite of pizza. “You were too smart for that. But you did have a cheerleader girlfriend.”

  “It was over the week after prom,” he said quietly.

  “Was she mad at you for joining the army?”

  “Kind of,” he replied. “How’d you know that?”

  Lucy shrugged. “Girls like Trudy are easy to read.”

  “But not girls like you,” he said and drank some beer. “Right?”

  She settled deeper into the sofa. “I’ve never considered myself easy on any level.”

  “No,” he said, meeting her gaze. “You certainly aren’t.”

  Lucy stayed silent as the space between them seemed to suddenly get smaller. There was such a sense of companionship in that moment...as if he knew her and she knew him. She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on eating. And failed. She’d had such a bad day. One of the worse kinds of days for a doctor. A day when she couldn’t do a damned thing to stop something terrible from happening.

  “Lucy?”

  His voice stirred her senses. “Yes,” she said, not looking at him but staring straight ahead at the television.

  “Are you okay?”

  She shrugged and swallowed hard. Because he seemed to know, somehow, that she was barely hanging on. “I’m fine.”

  “I don’t think you are.”

  She took a deep breath. “Today was just...a trying kind of day.”

  The volume of the television went down almost immediately and she glanced sideways to see he’d propped his beer and pizza on the coffee table. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

  “You didn’t come over here to hear about my bad day.”

  “No,” he said honestly. “But I can listen if you want to talk about it.”

  Not in any stratosphere had she ever imagined that Brant Parker would be the kind of guy to simply sit on the couch and listen. She didn’t want to think about how tempted she was to take up his offer. She did need to talk. Talking always helped. But this was Brant...and he wasn’t the talkative type.

  “I can’t really—”

  “Would you rather I leave?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied quickly, feeling emotion fill her chest. “I could probably use the company.”

  “Okay,” he said and turned up the volume a couple of notches. “I’ll stay. And we can eat pizza and watch football. Or you can talk if you want to.”

  There was something so earnest and at the same time so comforting about his words that she had to swallow back a sob. They were becoming friends. And friends shared things. After a moment she drew in a long and weary breath and spoke.

  “The thing is... I’m a doctor. I’m trained to harness my emotions and, most days, I can cope with the bad things that happen,” she admitted, twisting her hands in her lap. “But today...today was one of those hard days...when I have to wonder if I’m making a difference at all.” She shifted on the sofa to face him and saw that he was watching her closely.

  “What happened?” he asked soberly.

  Lucy swallowed hard. “A woman came in to the ER today, six months pregnant, and I knew within minutes of examining her that she would lose her baby. There was no heartbeat and there was nothing I could do or say to comfort her and her husband.” She stopped, took a breath and relived the moment again. “It was the third baby they had lost in less than three years. So, I’d witnessed their heartbreak before. And her husband...he begged me to do something...to help his wife...to save his son. And I couldn’t do anything.”

  Heat burned her eyes and the tears she hadn’t dare allow that day suddenly came as though they had a will of their own. She didn’t stop them. She couldn’t have even if she’d tried.

  “Lucy.” He said her name softly. “Sometimes you can’t do anything. Sometimes bad things just happen.” He grabbed her hand and held it, enclosing her fingers in a way that warmed her through to her bones. “You know that. We both know that.”

  “I know it in here,” she said and tapped her temple with her free hand. “I know that, logically, I gave her the best medical care possible and nothing would have prevented their baby from dying. But it hurt so much to see their profound sadness. Her husband was hurting so much...hurting for the woman he loved and for the child they both desperately wanted. And I felt their pain deep down. I kept thinking, This could be anyone...this could be me. And then I felt like such a fraud because I’ve been trained to not feel.”

  His gaze was unwavering. “You know, I think your innate ability to feel compassion and share that sadness is what makes you a great doctor. I saw the way you were with my uncle—and that kind of caring is genuine and heartfelt.” He squeezed her hand. “You’re not a fraud, Lucy...you’re kind and compassionate and amazing.”

  And that was enough to send her over the edge.

  She began to sob and suddenly she was in Brant’s arms. And he held her, tighter than anyone had ever held her. Lucy pressed her face into his chest, heard his steady, strong heartbeat, and slowly felt her sadness seep away. He pulled her against him and sat back into the sofa so she was lying across his lap, her hands on his shoulders, her head against his chest, her face pressed against the soft green sweater. She closed her eyes, took a shuddering breath and relaxed—in a way she never had before.

  * * *

  Brant had no idea what had made him land on Lucy’s doorstep with a pizza and a six-pack. Or why he’d suggested they watch football in front of the television. Or why he’d taken her into his arms. But for the past half hour he had stayed still, holding her gently. She hadn’t stirred. She lay perfectly still, her one hand resting against his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin. He was pretty sure she wasn’t asleep, but she wasn’t moving, either. Just breathing softly.

  I should get up and hightail it out of here.

  But he didn’t. She felt
too good in his arms. Her lovely curves fit against him in a way that was both arousing and oddly comforting. She was soft and womanly, and even though his arm was numb he didn’t move. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat with a woman and talked the way he’d been talking with Lucy. Maybe never.

  She finally lifted her head and met his gaze.

  “Okay now?” he asked softly.

  She nodded and the scent of her apple shampoo assailed his senses. “I’m fine,” she said as she pulled away. Brant released her instantly and she sat up. “Sorry about that.”

  He frowned. “Sorry for what?”

  “Falling apart.” She shrugged and crossed her arms. “I’m not normally so fragile.”

  “You had a bad day,” he reminded her. “It happens.”

  She shrugged again. “Yeah...but I’m a doctor and I should be able to keep it inside. But thanks for understanding,” she said and picked up the untouched beer bottle. “So, about this football game. Explain it to me.”

  “Explain football?”

  “Sure,” she said and drank some beer. “Why not? I mean, I’m not much into sports, but I’m willing to learn new things.”

  Brant smiled. “Actually, football should be right up your alley.”

  “How?”

  “You like math, right?”

  She nodded slowly. “Uh, sure. Geek to the core, remember.”

  Brant flicked up the volume and briefly explained some of the player’s positions. “You see that guy there? He’s the quarterback.”

  “Yeah...and?”

  “And he’s tracked by the percentage of completions attempted and made, along with completion yards. Plus, the distance he throws the ball and from which side of the field he throws it.”

  She raised a brow. “Still not following.”

  “These numbers are then used to develop a mathematical model of the quarterback, for statistical comparison with other quarterbacks. Just like the receiver who catches the pass is judged on the number of passes thrown to him and the number of catches. It’s all about statistics,” he added. “Math.”

  She grinned. “Gee, if I’d known how important math is to sport I would never have spent so much time trying to ditch gym class.”

  Brant laughed softly. “Wait until summer. Baseball is even more rooted in stats and averages.”

  “Good to know,” she said and smiled as she took a drink. “Although, I’m not particularly athletic. I don’t think I’ve ever swung a baseball bat.”

  “There’s a practice net at Bakers Field, so if you want to learn, I could show you.”

  “I’ll probably get stuck on first base.”

  The moment she said the words the mood between them shifted. He was certain she hadn’t meant it to sound so provocative, but in her husky voice and with their close proximity, it was impossible to avoid thinking about it.

  About her.

  About getting to first base with Lucy Monero.

  That was exactly what he wanted to do.

  He wanted to kiss her sweet mouth more than he’d ever wanted to kiss anyone...ever.

  “You know, I’m pretty sure I could get you off first base, Lucy.”

  He watched, fascinated, as color crept up her throat and landed on her cheeks. Despite her bravado, there was a kind of natural wholesomeness about her that was undeniable, magnetic and as sexy as hell. Her lower lip trembled and he fought the urge to see if her lips tasted as sweet as they looked.

  He knew she was thinking it, too. Her green eyes shimmered with a sudden sultry haze that wound his stomach in knots and quickly hit him directly in the groin. He shifted in his seat, trying to get the thought from his mind.

  “Wouldn’t that...?” Her words trailed off and then she tried again. “Wouldn’t that nullify the fact we’re only friends?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And since you only want to be friends...”

  “Yeah,” he replied when her words faded. “That is what I said.”

  Her eyes widened. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “About you? About us?” Brant dug deep because he had to. “No. Friends is best. Uncomplicated. Easy.”

  “Strange,” she said as she placed the beer on the table and pushed back her hair. “This doesn’t feel the least bit uncomplicated.”

  “You’re right,” he agreed. “I guess I’m new to this ‘having a woman as a friend’ thing.”

  She cocked her head. “What? You’ve never had a female friend before?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I mean...in the military? Yeah, for sure. But that was work. As a civilian? No.”

  “What about Brooke?”

  “She’s family so it doesn’t count.”

  “Marissa?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “She’s my brother’s fiancée and I’m just getting to know her.”

  “So, if you meet someone you like or were attracted to you’d what...sleep with her and then not see her again?”

  Brant nodded slowly. “I guess.”

  She was frowning. “Sex means that little to you?”

  Discomfiture straightened his back. He didn’t want to talk about sex with Lucy Monero. He didn’t want any part of his life to be under the microscope. “It’s just a moment...a few hours...maybe a night. Little more.”

  She met his gaze. “Well, that explains why you’re lonely.”

  Brant’s back stiffened and he sat straighter. “I’m not—”

  “Sure you are. Isn’t that why you’re here with me?”

  Chapter Six

  First base. Second base. Third base. Lucy was pretty sure Brant would have all the bases covered. The conversation was heading way out of her comfort zone. His, too, from the expression on his face. However she wasn’t about to back down. He’d turned up on her doorstep, not the other way around.

  “I am, too,” she admitted. “Sometimes. I know I have my friends and my job, which I love...but the nights can get lonely. Or a rainy afternoon. Or a Sunday morning. You know, those times that people who are part of a couple probably take for granted.”

  He was watching her with such burning intensity it was impossible to look away. “I guess I don’t think about it too much.”

  She didn’t believe him. Despite his loving family and how close he was to his brother and uncle, Lucy knew he’d kept very much to himself since he’d returned to town. “Well, I do,” she said and grinned a little. “I want to get married. I want to have a family... I mean, doesn’t everyone need someone?” She stopped speaking for a moment and met his gaze. “Well, except for you, of course. You don’t need anyone, right?”

  The pulse in his cheek throbbed. “It’s not about...needing someone. It’s about knowing what I’m capable of at this point in time. And having a serious relationship isn’t a priority.”

  “Define ‘serious’?”

  His mouth twitched. “The usual kind. Marriage-and-babies kind of serious.”

  “What if you fall in love with someone?” she asked, feeling herself flush again.

  “I won’t,” he replied flatly. “I’m not looking for love, Lucia. Not with anyone.”

  Not with you.

  His meaning was perfectly clear. And even though she was humiliated by the idea he thought she was imagining they had some kind relationship starting, Lucy put on her bravest face.

  “Just as well we’re only friends, then,” she reminded him and focused her attention on the television.

  “Just as well,” he echoed and hiked up the volume.

  He stayed for another half hour and when he left, the house felt ridiculously empty.

  I’m such a fool.

  Fantasizing about Brant was only going to lead to heartbreak. He’d made
it clear he wasn’t interested. So they’d spent a little time together and shared a pizza and a football game. And maybe she did collapse in his arms and hold on as if her life depended on it. And maybe he did hold her in return and give her the kind of comfort she’d only ever imagined existed. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t anything.

  I’m not looking for love, Lucia. Not with anyone.

  His words were quickly imprinted in her brain. Exactly where they needed to be. And what she needed to do was to stop daydreaming and forget about him.

  Still, as she lay in bed later that night, staring at the ceiling, she couldn’t help but remember his kindness. There was so much depth to him. More than he allowed people to see. He was strong and sincere and oozed integrity. But there was vulnerability, too. And pain...she was sure of it.

  Something had happened to turn his heart to stone. She didn’t doubt he’d experienced something terrible while he was deployed. Something he’d been keeping from everyone, even his brother and mother. And despite knowing it was madness to dig herself in any further, Lucy wanted to know what it was. She remembered how Grady had asked for her help. Clearly, Brant’s family was genuinely concerned about him and Lucy had said she’d do what she could. Getting him to talk about what he’d been through in the military wasn’t going to be easy. But the doctor in her felt a pull of responsibility to do what she could. And the woman in her wanted to understand his pain.

  Her shift didn’t start until eleven the following morning, so she slept in an hour longer than usual, then showered and dressed. Once she had a late breakfast she headed into town at nine-thirty to meet Kayla at the museum.

  “You look tired,” her friend said as they sat in Kayla’s small office and began sipping on the take-out lattes Lucy had picked up from the Muffin Box on her way over.

  “I didn’t sleep much last night,” she admitted, feeling the caffeine quickly kick in.

  Kayla immediately looked concerned. “Bad dreams?”

  She shrugged. “Just a long day,” she said, deciding not to dwell on what had happened at the hospital the previous afternoon. “And then Brant dropped over with a pizza.”