But she can’t really go there without signaling that she and I haven’t so much drifted apart in recent years like everyone assumes, so much as collided and then very deliberately steered off course.
Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if her parents were actually matchmaking with this scheme of theirs. Not in the romantic sense—but they’ve both mentioned on occasion that it’s a shame that the two of us aren’t as close as we used to be.
Both Lucy and I have happily let them believe it’s due to circumstance—me taking care of Pops, her off taking over the hospitality world or some shit.
The way she gives me one last glare before flicking her finger to knock her sunglasses back over her eyes tells me she intends to keep her parents in the dark, even though she’d like nothing more than to go toe-to-toe with me right now.
But the way she snarls “Asshole” under her breath as we pass going around the back of the car lets me know we’ll go toe-to-toe later.
As Lucy gives her parents and sister one last round of hugs, I man-hug Craig, a little surprised to feel a little sting of regret as he thumps my back once, and then again, as though not quite ready to let go.
I’ve been so hell-bent on getting out of this town, getting a fresh start where I’m not the poor boy who lost his mother, later to be defined as the surly boy with the attitude.
But I realize now that as much shit as I’m leaving behind, there’s good stuff too, and all of it’s right here in this driveway.
“See you, man,” Craig says.
His voice seems just a little hoarser than usual, and I nod, suddenly extra-glad we’re both wearing sunglasses.
“Talk soon,” I say.
He nods, then jerks his chin toward Lucy. “Take care of her. I guess I don’t need to tell you that. You’ve always been better at it than me.”
I go still, waiting for any hint that he knows what’s up between us, but he sounds dead serious, as though he really thinks I’m the best person to care for the cyclone that is Lucy.
His trust rips at me a little bit, but instead I nod, and say the only thing I can. “I will. Always.”
Craig’s head turns slightly, verifying that his sister is still being mauled by his mother, and then steps closer. “Watch this Oscar character. None of us like him.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Thought none of you had met him.”
“Exactly.”
With that bit of uselessness, Craig flashes me his old familiar grin and slaps at the hood of the car in a final farewell with a “Take care man,” before going around the car to forcibly maneuver Lucy away from her parents, giving her a hug, and then none-too-gently shoving her into the passenger seat.
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
I lift my hand once more, gesturing goodbye to the family that has practically been my own, the house where I’ve spent more than a few holidays, and amid a refrain of “Drive safe, call often,” I climb into the car beside the girl who once was very nearly the death of me.
There’s a moment of almost suffocating silence, and I wonder if I’m even capable of surviving the next two weeks.
Then Lucy rolls down the window, and the pressure eases, but only for a minute, because she maneuvers half of her body out of the window to wave goodbye to her family with both arms, and the position gives me a prime view of her tight ass in her tiny shorts.
Yeah. No chance in hell are we both going to make it through these two weeks alive.
Chapter 7
LUCY, SIXTEEN, REECE, SEVENTEEN
“Damn it, Lucy, you’re giving me whiplash,” he said, rubbing at his neck before turning to glare at her.
“Not my fault Horny’s older than the U.S. Constitution.”
He laughed. “That’s specific.”
“I had a quiz in U.S. History today,” she muttered as she fiddled with the controls, trying to find the windshield wipers.
“You just turned on your brights.”
Lucy sighed and let her hands drop into her lap. “I don’t know why you agreed to teach me to drive when you obviously don’t want to be here.”
“Because your parents know you don’t listen to them, and I lost a bet with your brother. Plus, I’m the only one with keys to this part of Mr. Jensen’s property where there’s nothing but dirt and weeds for you to destroy.”
Lucy tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “Is this where you learned to drive?” she asked, looking around at the big nothingness that was part of the winery property where Reece worked.
“Yup.”
“Who taught you, your dad?”
He looked away. “Nah.”
“Trish?”
He snorted. “Would that have been before or after she left for Vegas without so much as a goodbye note?”
Lucy swallowed, annoyed with herself for bringing up his deserting sister and the dad who barely registered that he had a son.
“Sorry,” she said softly.
He dropped his head back against the headrest. “Don’t worry about it. And to answer your question, it was your dad who taught me.”
She couldn’t help the laugh. “I love that he taught you, but not me.”
“Maybe he knew that I would listen to him.” Reece turned his head and smiled at her, and for an annoying moment, Lucy’s breath caught.
He was so good-looking she couldn’t stand it sometimes. No matter how hard she tried to remind herself that he was Reece, it was getting harder and harder to think of him as a brother figure.
Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if her parents were actually matchmaking with this scheme of theirs. Not in the romantic sense—but they’ve both mentioned on occasion that it’s a shame that the two of us aren’t as close as we used to be.
Both Lucy and I have happily let them believe it’s due to circumstance—me taking care of Pops, her off taking over the hospitality world or some shit.
The way she gives me one last glare before flicking her finger to knock her sunglasses back over her eyes tells me she intends to keep her parents in the dark, even though she’d like nothing more than to go toe-to-toe with me right now.
But the way she snarls “Asshole” under her breath as we pass going around the back of the car lets me know we’ll go toe-to-toe later.
As Lucy gives her parents and sister one last round of hugs, I man-hug Craig, a little surprised to feel a little sting of regret as he thumps my back once, and then again, as though not quite ready to let go.
I’ve been so hell-bent on getting out of this town, getting a fresh start where I’m not the poor boy who lost his mother, later to be defined as the surly boy with the attitude.
But I realize now that as much shit as I’m leaving behind, there’s good stuff too, and all of it’s right here in this driveway.
“See you, man,” Craig says.
His voice seems just a little hoarser than usual, and I nod, suddenly extra-glad we’re both wearing sunglasses.
“Talk soon,” I say.
He nods, then jerks his chin toward Lucy. “Take care of her. I guess I don’t need to tell you that. You’ve always been better at it than me.”
I go still, waiting for any hint that he knows what’s up between us, but he sounds dead serious, as though he really thinks I’m the best person to care for the cyclone that is Lucy.
His trust rips at me a little bit, but instead I nod, and say the only thing I can. “I will. Always.”
Craig’s head turns slightly, verifying that his sister is still being mauled by his mother, and then steps closer. “Watch this Oscar character. None of us like him.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Thought none of you had met him.”
“Exactly.”
With that bit of uselessness, Craig flashes me his old familiar grin and slaps at the hood of the car in a final farewell with a “Take care man,” before going around the car to forcibly maneuver Lucy away from her parents, giving her a hug, and then none-too-gently shoving her into the passenger seat.
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
I lift my hand once more, gesturing goodbye to the family that has practically been my own, the house where I’ve spent more than a few holidays, and amid a refrain of “Drive safe, call often,” I climb into the car beside the girl who once was very nearly the death of me.
There’s a moment of almost suffocating silence, and I wonder if I’m even capable of surviving the next two weeks.
Then Lucy rolls down the window, and the pressure eases, but only for a minute, because she maneuvers half of her body out of the window to wave goodbye to her family with both arms, and the position gives me a prime view of her tight ass in her tiny shorts.
Yeah. No chance in hell are we both going to make it through these two weeks alive.
Chapter 7
LUCY, SIXTEEN, REECE, SEVENTEEN
“Damn it, Lucy, you’re giving me whiplash,” he said, rubbing at his neck before turning to glare at her.
“Not my fault Horny’s older than the U.S. Constitution.”
He laughed. “That’s specific.”
“I had a quiz in U.S. History today,” she muttered as she fiddled with the controls, trying to find the windshield wipers.
“You just turned on your brights.”
Lucy sighed and let her hands drop into her lap. “I don’t know why you agreed to teach me to drive when you obviously don’t want to be here.”
“Because your parents know you don’t listen to them, and I lost a bet with your brother. Plus, I’m the only one with keys to this part of Mr. Jensen’s property where there’s nothing but dirt and weeds for you to destroy.”
Lucy tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “Is this where you learned to drive?” she asked, looking around at the big nothingness that was part of the winery property where Reece worked.
“Yup.”
“Who taught you, your dad?”
He looked away. “Nah.”
“Trish?”
He snorted. “Would that have been before or after she left for Vegas without so much as a goodbye note?”
Lucy swallowed, annoyed with herself for bringing up his deserting sister and the dad who barely registered that he had a son.
“Sorry,” she said softly.
He dropped his head back against the headrest. “Don’t worry about it. And to answer your question, it was your dad who taught me.”
She couldn’t help the laugh. “I love that he taught you, but not me.”
“Maybe he knew that I would listen to him.” Reece turned his head and smiled at her, and for an annoying moment, Lucy’s breath caught.
He was so good-looking she couldn’t stand it sometimes. No matter how hard she tried to remind herself that he was Reece, it was getting harder and harder to think of him as a brother figure.
