How (Not) to Fall in Love(7)
My eighth birthday card showed a yellow Labrador puppy lying on its back, with tiny holes for salt in its stomach. “Toby needs a friend, don’t you think?” said the note.
When I was young, the shakers had been my favorite toys. I’d set up elaborate adventures with all of the characters, including a pink Siamese cat and a surprised-looking chef. As I held the Labrador shaker, rubbing my fingers over the smooth ceramic, I wondered what my uncle thought of his disappearing brother.
Seventeen pepper shakers lined my vanity table. As I stared at them, I remembered when I’d last seen Charlie. It was my seventh birthday party. Dad had argued with Mom after Charlie left our house.
“He’s a loser, Marilyn. I don’t want him coming to her birthdays anymore.”
“But Ty, he’s your brother.”
“He’s a hippie working in some crummy pawn store. That’s not the type of role model I want around for Darcy. He doesn’t even own a car, for Christ’s sake.”
I opened another drawer and pulled out Dad’s latest postcard. It had arrived yesterday, postmarked Tennessee, with a picture of Graceland. I hoped that Elvis wasn’t his new role model. Even though I was mad at him, I didn’t want him dying of a heart attack on a toilet.
“Darcy—I know things must be hard for you and Mom right now. I’m sorry about that. Do what you need to do.”
The words had infuriated me. Gee, I’m sorry life is falling apart honey, but, ya know, figure it out. Meanwhile, I’ll be driving around the country visiting random tourist traps.
I pushed away the twinges of guilt about selling my jewelry. If I had the right buyer, it wasn’t entirely disloyal. It was just transitioning the items from one family member to another. Do what you need to do.
The sound of the doorbell and Toby’s excited barking jolted me out of my reverie. I jumped up, glancing at myself in the mirror. I could stand some lip gloss and mascara, but who cared? This wasn’t exactly a hot date. I grabbed the hatbox full of jewelry and my string wallet and hurried down the stairs.
Toby was already at the door, barking his head off. Our front doors were too fancy for peepholes, so I just flung it open.
Holy shizballs.
One of the hottest guys I’d ever seen stood on the porch. Thick dark hair almost brushed his shoulders. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, and from what I dared to look at, underneath he was all sinewy strength and lean muscle. Not a beer belly or plumber’s crack in sight. And he was way closer to my age than the old guy I’d conjured in my imagination.
Toby launched himself out the door, and the guy knelt to pet him, instantly turning my guard dog into a heap of wriggling pet-me fur. The guy glanced up at me, and I caught my breath at the swirling kaleidoscope colors of his eyes: green, blue, and silver, all mixed together.
“Er. Um.” I stammered. “Hi.”
He grinned at me, one side of his mouth quirking higher than the other, and flashing a dimple.
Why hadn’t I at least put on lip gloss?
“Hi.” He stood up, looming over me as Toby bounced around his legs. “You must be Darcy. I’m Lucas Martinez, your chauffeur.” He grinned and glanced down at my insane dog, then back at me. “And your scary protector is…?”
Damn. Even his voice was sexy. Words, Darcy. Find them. Use them. “Toby,” I squeaked. I cleared my throat. “You sure it’s okay if he rides in your car?” The shiny black muscle car in the driveway wasn’t the falling apart vehicle I’d imagined, either.
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I like dogs.”
Toby rolled on his back, flaunting his stomach for a belly rub. I sort of felt like doing the same thing, but I had more impulse control than my dog.
“I’ll just grab his leash. Please come in.” I stepped back into the foyer, embarrassed that I’d completely forgotten all the manners Mom had drilled into me.
He smiled down at me and entered the Covington Castle. I saw his eyes widen as he took it all in: the marble floor, the enormous chandelier, the family portraits interspersed with artwork lining the walls.
“Be right back.” I escaped into the kitchen and grabbed Toby’s leash off a hook on the wall.
Inhale calm. Exhale stress. So he was cute, so what? Okay, way beyond cute. But still. He worked for my uncle, just doing him a favor by picking me up. I snuck into the powder room off the kitchen and brushed my hair. And found some lip gloss in a drawer. Score.
Back in the foyer, Lucas was kneeling again, rubbing Toby’s stomach. He stood up when I entered the room. I wondered if I could sneak a Snapchat shot of him for Sal.
“Ready?” He held out a hand for Toby’s leash and I gave it to him, since Toby had forgotten I existed.
“You could totally rob us if you wanted,” I muttered, closing the front door and locking it. “My dog just fell into insta-love with you.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks flame with heat. Nice to meet you, gorgeous driver. How do you feel about freaky girls with no social skills?
Lucas laughed as I hurried around him and down the steps.
“Your carriage awaits,” he said, stopping next to me and sweeping out his arm in a grand gesture. Still blushing, I looked away from his assessing gaze.
Once he’d closed the door behind me, I let out a long breath. I needed to get a grip. Woodbridge was full of hot guys. This was not a big deal. It must be all the stress, making my hormones overactive or something.