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“Then you’ll remember telling me about his trail of women. I remember the tears you cried over a douchebag guy without a clue. Am I the only one who remembers this? Geez, Lulu, you weren’t even a couple, and he broke your heart. He’ll do it again, and from everything you’ve said, this time will be worse.”
Katie had a point.
Lucy sat cross-legged on the bed. “Things are different. He grew up. I grew up.”
“You also changed your appearance. Now he’s all about getting into your pants? As your friend, I don’t like that at all.”
Lucy pressed a pillow against her chest.
“This guy. This whole situation is messy. He’s a colleague. You and I both know it can’t go further.”
A colleague? Sheesh, it was so much more complicated because he was about to become her boss. Lucy had promised William she wouldn’t say a word about his real relationship with Crestone, so she kept that tidbit to herself. “I’m afraid it’s already gone past the colleague thing. He kissed me.”
The kiss to end all kisses.
“Holy hell, Lulu. Did you kiss him back?”
“Um…yes?”
“Lulu!” Katie shrieked.
Lucy held the phone away from her ear, catching only snippets of Katie’s fuming objections. “Could you calm down? It only happened the one time.”
The line was silent for a moment before Katie spoke. “People don’t change,” she said carefully. “I get that you’re confused, but with a guy like him, you’ve got to be straight. Tell him you’re flattered, but he’s not your type. Clean break.”
“Katie, if I had a type, he’d be it.” Unfortunately.
It’s not like Lucy never dated. She did. But after she put in the blood, sweat, and tears to transform herself, the guys who asked her out started to change…and not always for the better. Dating had never led to much because it wasn’t worth it to open herself up to anyone.
But, as Katie pointed out, this couldn’t go further.
“I’ll talk to him,” Lucy promised.
Katie went in for the kill. “William is a right-now kind of guy. He’s not about the future, but he is about the past. Don’t go back, Lulu. Don’t do that to yourself. You’ve done too much to change and put that girl behind you.”
Crap, but she was right. They ended the conversation, and Lucy flopped on the bed. She flung her arm over her face.
William trudged through the door and dropped an armful of tackle gear by the bed.
“The cameras are set. Did you get a boat?” She sat up and twisted her hair, pinning it in place.
“Uh-huh. It’s ready.” He didn’t glance up as he separated two tackle boxes and sorted hooks.
Sheesh. How much stuff did it take to catch a fish?
He finally glanced at her, and his eyebrows shot up. Perhaps she should have evaluated her fishing attire more carefully before settling on the green bikini top and cut-off shorts. His eyes flamed. The way he stared did not bode well—like she was the catch of the day, and he had her on his hook.
“This one’s yours.” He held up one of the fishing poles and handed it to her. His hand brushed hers briefly when she took it. One tiny brush of his fingertips and her body went wired. This had to stop.
“Nervous about the boat?” he asked.
“Maybe.” She inspected the pole and turned the reel thing. Then she clicked a button to release the tension. Easy enough.
“How nervous?”
She glanced up at him. “A little.”
“How much is a little?” he asked as though she meant more to him than only a colleague.
