How (Not) to Fall in Love(42)

He shrugged. “I just can.” I gazed down at Toby, whose tail wagged at warp speed. “It might help to talk about it,” Lucas said, his voice soft.

I glanced at him, startled at the intensity I saw in his eyes. I turned away, pretending to be interested in the jumble of model airplane kits in the window of the run-down hobby store.

His hand brushed mine, lacing our fingers briefly, but before I could catch my breath, he released my hand and took hold of Toby’s leash. He cleared his throat. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

Friends. Right. Of course. I let go of the leash, letting Lucas take over. “Yeah,” I said, my voice a little wobbly. We walked in silence and I wondered if I’d hallucinated the whole almost-held-my-hand thing.

“If you don’t tell me what’s up, I’ll just ask Charlie.”

I took a deep breath. Inhale calm. Exhale obsessive need to analyze potential hand-holding event. “I found someone to do the estate sale. Mom said she’d sign the paperwork, but left me in charge of it all. But there’s a scheduling issue.”

He was quiet for a bit, but the back of his leash-free hand brushed mine again as we walked. “When my mom left,” he finally said, “my dad kind of checked out for a while. He spent all his time fixing his car, or working late doing repairs for the property management company he works for.” He took a deep breath and suddenly I wanted to reach out to squeeze his hand. But I didn’t have the guts to do it. “I took care of Pickles all the time.” He turned to grin at me. “I even changed her diapers.”

“Wow.” I laughed at that image. “That’s what I call brotherly love.”

“Right? I’m just that awesome.”

Without thinking, I shoulder-bumped him. “Shut up.” Crap. Had I actually just touched him on purpose?

“So, um, anyway.” He shot me a sideways glance as he tucked his hair behind his ear. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’ve sort of been there. Doing the stuff parents are supposed to do, because they can’t. Or won’t.”

We ended up in a neighborhood park. “When did you, I mean how did you get your dad to…to start functioning again?”

He stopped, forcing Toby to stop, too. He stared down at me as we stood on a small wooden bridge, the breeze ruffling his hair, focusing on me so intently that I could hardly breathe.

“I didn’t, Darcy. That’s the thing. You can’t make your mom change. She has to do it for herself.”

I swallowed. I knew what he said was true, even though I wanted him to give me some sort of magic key that would unlock the door to my mom’s closed heart.

He took a step toward me. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and the blue-green ocean color of his eyes seemed darker than usual. Then Toby spotted a squirrel and took off at full speed, yanking Lucas after him. I exhaled and grabbed the bridge railing for support as I watched Lucas run behind Toby, laughing and yelling at him to heel.

Had he almost kissed me? Or was I losing my mind?

We walked back to the shops together, talking and joking about unimportant things, the sparking tension between us gone. Maybe I’d imagined the whole thing.

I was glad to be working by myself tonight. My mind was a jumble of worries about the estate sale, anxiety about persuading the Harvest board for more time to move, punctuated by images of Lucas gazing at me on the bridge, his eyes burning with intensity.

My shift was almost over when the door swung open. A gust of bitter cold wind whooshed in along with the last person I expected to see.

“Ryan? What are you doing here?” I stared at him, stunned.

He brushed snow out of his hair and smiled at me. He wore his Burton snowboarding jacket and swung his Range Rover key on a long lanyard, looking like an ad for a ski resort.

My heart thudded, but not with excitement like it did for Lucas.

“So this is where you work, huh?” He looked around the shop. The place was empty since it was almost closing time. “Sal told me about this place.”

I would kill her. Painfully.

“You want something to drink?” I asked, wondering what the heck he was doing here.

“Sure,” he said. “Make me your specialty.” He moved close to the counter, watching me work Bella.

“Soo,” he said, drawing out the word. “I was wondering. Does your dad still have that box suite at the football stadium?”

My hand slipped on the filter holder and I almost spilled espresso grounds everywhere. Was he seriously angling for tickets? I stared at him, wondering why I’d ever thought he was hot, when he was so shallow.

“Uh, I guess,” I said. “I mean, technically it’s owned by his company.” Unless J.J. had sold it already.

“Cool.”

I handed him the finished mocha, not bothering to put whip cream and sprinkles on it. He took a sip and raised his eyebrows. “This is good.”

Of course it is, I wanted to say, because I’m a kick-ass barista. Instead I just shrugged. “Thanks.” I heard the back door open and close, then familiar footsteps and the jingle of Toby’s collar. Lucas stopped short when he saw Ryan.

“Hi,” I said to him, willing Ryan to leave. Like now. Toby moved behind me, licking up crumbs from the floor.

Lucas looked between Ryan and me, his eyes narrowed. “Hi,” he said, his stare settling on Ryan.