How (Not) to Fall in Love(69)

I pointed my fork at him. “I could if I wanted. But what I’m wondering is, are you one of those guys who needs to feel like they’re Lancelot coming to the rescue all the time? Like on the daytime TV shrink shows? Those guys who pick women who…” My voice trailed away as I realized I’d just implied he was my knight. And that he’d picked me as his lady to rescue. My cheeks flamed.

His lips compressed into a thin line. I couldn’t tell if he was biting back a laugh or an argument.

“I didn’t mean that you and me… What I meant was…” Oh God. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? Someone needed to shove me back into my mousy Darcy shell.

“Please keep talking,” Lucas said, his eyes fixed on mine. “I can’t wait to hear more.”

I shook my head and took a huge gulp of water so I wouldn’t be tempted to keep babbling and make things worse.

He put his hands on his legs and shook his head, laughing a little. “You’re a piece of work, Darcy Covington.”

I stayed quiet, staring at my plate but sneaking glances at his denim-clad thighs.

“No, I’m not one of those guys,” he said, sighing. “I’d never get anything done if I rescued everyone who needed it.” He paused to drink a sip of water, then turned to face me. I heard him take a deep breath. “But I do like to help people I care about.” He reached out to cup my chin, raising my face to look at him. “That’s why I’m here with you right now.” His hand moved to brush a loose hair behind my ear, then came to rest on my shoulder. I stopped breathing, staring into his beautiful eyes, wondering if my brain would ever form a coherent thought again.

“This isn’t how I planned to tell you how I feel,” he said softly. His hand drifted slowly down my arm, lighting a trail of fireworks on my skin. His strong fingers laced through mine, and his thumb drew slow circles on my palm, making me glad I was already sitting, since I might have lost my balance otherwise. “But I’m so tired of waiting.” He took a breath, then dropped his eyes, looking at our entwined hands.

I knew I should say something. Anything. But I was afraid that if I even breathed too loudly, the spell would break and he’d disappear in a puff of smoke.

He raised his eyes to mine, and his lips twitched. “Are you actually speechless, for once?”

I blinked at him. Two blinks for yes.

His smile was slow, and sexy. “Come on, say something. Tell me more about the TV shrink’s bullshit theories about rescuing people and falling in love.” He paused and took a deep breath. “But I have my own theory about that, if you want to hear it.”

I stared at him, still afraid to breathe, to move. If this was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up.

His grin faltered. “You have to say something, Darcy. Because I think… I hope…you feel about me the way I feel about you.” He looked at me from under his ridiculous eyelashes. “But I-I’m not sure.”

I was stunned when I heard the nervousness in his voice. I breathed out slowly, finally finding my voice. “You aren’t sure how I feel about you?”

He shrugged and ran his free hand through his long, dark hair. “Sometimes. But then you pull away. Like that night at my house.” He sighed. “I know my timing sucks. You’re dealing with so much crap right now. I was going to wait until you moved.” He ducked his head, looking even less sure of himself. “I had a whole evening planned.” This time his smile was shy and sweet, and it took my breath away even more than his usual sexy grin did. “I was hoping to sweep you off your feet. Like those guys in your stupid books.” His neck reddened. His Royal Hotness was blushing. Big time.

I couldn’t believe I impacted him this way. Me, queen of the mice. I wanted to freeze time so I could come back to this exact moment whenever I thought I didn’t have the strength to keep going. I took a deep breath. “You already did,” I whispered.

The look he gave me made my heart do cartwheels. He slid off his stool and pulled me into his arms. Maybe I wasn’t psychic, but I felt like I was reading his mind, and he was reading mine, confirming all the feelings I’d been hiding from him.

“Just to be sure,” I said, my voice shaky as I wrapped my arms around his waist, “this isn’t like a pity thing? No Lancelot complex?”

His lips grazed my forehead. “Not even close.” He pulled me closer. “You said I never noticed you, when Heather was around.” His fingers moved through my hair, sending shivers up my spine. “I always noticed you, Darcy. Always.” One hand stayed in my hair, the other moved down my back, stopping just above my waist, the warmth of his hand burning through my sweater.

“Heather was like a carnival. Loud. Crazy. Too much. I never cared about her…like that.” He moved his hand, letting his fingers drift underneath my sweater, the warmth of his hand on my back setting my skin on fire. “With you, it’s… I don’t even know how to say it. It’s like you’re a work of art. Every time I’m with you, I see something new. Something beautiful.”

My head rested against his chest, and I felt his racing heart. I had to say something, if only I could rouse my vocal cords from their swoon. I cleared my throat. “You’re, um, not so bad yourself.”

He laughed, the rumble in his chest vibrating against me. “And you always make me laugh. No matter what kind of crap’s going on in your life.” He leaned back slightly to look down at me. “I don’t know if you’re ready to hear this, but I need to say it.”