How (Not) to Fall in Love(61)

I burst out laughing. “The truck is in the garage,” I called over my shoulder as I led the way. “Come on.”

Lucas followed me through the dining room. “Do you want something to drink?” I opened the fridge. There wasn’t much, but we had a few store brand colas left. “Lucas?” I turned around to see an empty kitchen. I returned to the dining room to find him staring up at the chandelier, Toby sitting patiently next to him.

“That’s one killer chandelier,” he said. “If anyone ever did break in, you could use it as a weapon.”

“I hate it,” I said, “but my mom loves it. It’s definitely a conversation starter for dinner parties. Or it used to be, when we had them.”

Lucas took the soda from me. “Thanks.” He snapped open the top and drained half of it in one swallow. “Take me to the Reaper.”

“How did you know I called it that?”

“You told Charlie.” He grinned. “Sometimes people forget I’m working behind the curtain. I overhear a lot of interesting conversations.”

Oh God. My mind raced, wondering what other embarrassing conversations he might have overheard. He laughed at the expression on my face. “Don’t look so freaked. You haven’t given away any state secrets. Nothing worth turning you over to the Feds, even though I hear the reward money’s pretty good.”

“That’s a relief.” I started to punch him on the shoulder but stopped myself just in time. Must not make physical contact.

“Can I have the key? I want to back it out to the driveway.” Lucas held out his hand. I grabbed the key from the hook and tossed it to him.

Toby ran after Lucas as he headed into the garage.

“No, boy,” I said. “You’re not going for a ride.”

Toby looked at Lucas hopefully. Lucas opened the truck door and Toby hopped in.

“Way to undermine my authority, dude,” I said.

Lucas slid into the truck and grinned at me, starting the engine and revving it loudly. Blue smoke filled the driveway as he backed out of the garage. He turned off the engine and hopped out, then buried himself under the hood while I tried to convince Toby to come out of the truck. My dog wasn’t budging.

“I’ll need to spend more time,” Lucas said from under the hood. “But it might be your transmission.”

“Is that bad?”

He stood up and shrugged. “It could be. Or it could be a fluid change will fix it.” He glanced around the garage, apparently not seeing what he needed. “I’ll have to fix it at my place. I’m going to wash my hands before we go.”

“Can you grab a Scooby snack from the kitchen counter?” I called through the mudroom. “It’s the only way Toby will come out of the truck.”

I heard Lucas laugh from inside the house. He emerged without the dog treat.

“You forgot the snack.”

He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Watch and learn.” He leaned into the truck and within seconds Toby had jumped out, eyeing him with devotion.

“That’s disgusting,” I said, glaring at him with resentment.

“Just call me the dog whisperer.”

“Can we go now? I can’t take much more of this. Next thing I know, Toby will want to go home with you.”

“I’d love that but my dad’s allergic to dogs. And cats.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, it sucks, especially for Pickles. She loves animals.”

“Poor Pickles. She’s so awesome.”

He stared at me in mock horror. “What is wrong with you?”

“Just call me the kid whisperer.”

He pointed a finger at me. “Touché, Shaker Girl, touché.”

While Lucas pulled the truck back into the garage, I ran into the bathroom by the kitchen. My face flushed and my eyes shone with excitement. I hoped Lucas wouldn’t notice, since it was all because of him.

“So tell me about these places we’re looking at.” I buckled myself into his immaculate car. “How’d you find them?”

“Lots of people in the neighborhood come into Charlie’s store. I asked around.” He handed me his iPod. “Pick something you like.”

I jerked my arm away as our arms brushed, wondering if he felt the same electricity that I did. I glanced at him, but saw no change of expression in his face.

Paging through his music, I was surprised to see a lot of the bands I liked. I thought Ice Krystal and Phoenix had been a fluke.

“You like Passion Pit? And Snow Patrol? What’s with all the emo music?”

He laughed. “What did you think I liked? Death metal?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t expect that you’d like—”

“Chick music?”

It was my turn to laugh. It was easier to laugh than say what I was thinking, which was that it was one more way I felt connected to him.

He was quiet for a few minutes, then spoke. “The first place is an apartment right on Broadway. It’s above the panini shop.”

“No kidding?” I turned to stare at him. “Does it smell like onions?”

“And garlic.”

“Really? I don’t know if my mom could deal with that.”