“You’re a clown,” I shove him playfully. He chuckles, but his hard, muscular body hardly moves. Is this man made of rock?
“So, what’s on your mind?” he finally asks after a few minutes of silent walking. The question is simple, not too pushy, but leaves it open-ended for me to respond however I please.Where would I even begin?
“What makes you think anything is on my mind?”
“Consider it a good guess. Come on, lay it on me.”
I drive people away with my Type A traits. I feel like I lost my company the biggest account we could have landed, and I have a hard time trusting people enough to open up because they’ll just leave eventually, and what willhave been the point?
I side-eye him, trying to figure out if he really wants me to share. He waits patiently, raising his eyebrows. I sigh. Fine, I can tell him—kind of.
“Viv and I own our own business. I’m not used to being away and on vacation. It’s hard to set it aside and just… relax.” Not entirely untrue, but definitely also not what has been on my mind.
“Oh yeah? That’s pretty awesome. What’s your business?”
Any time I’m on a date and talk about what I do, I get so into it that whoever is listening loses interest. Their eyes glaze over, and I’m given polite head nods mixed with the occasionalOh,andAh.I don’t need that from Luke too.
“I… It’s nothing.” I’m waving my hands weirdly, trying to shrug it off.
“You don’t like what you do?” The confusion on his face is adorable to me. So many people don’t love their day-to-day profession. I’m one of the lucky ones who do, and I know it. Considering his confusion, he may be one of the lucky ones too.
“I thought you had to get to work? Should we turn back?” I glance behind me, but Luke stops me with a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Solid deflection, Trip. Color me impressed, though I never said that. I said I was walking to the house. The coffee there is better.”
My eyes scrunch together, scrutinizing him.
“Why do you want to know about my work?”Why am I being so difficult about this?
There’s that word again. Difficult.
Because difficult is what you do best, Liv.
“Because I’m trying to get to know you. I’m just asking about work; it’s not that deep.” His hands are in his pockets, face passive. He’s completely unruffled by my inability to just open up.
“Do you do that with every guest?” I ask.
He laughs then. A real, hearty laugh that makes me smile. I’m expecting a charming and professional response like, “Of course. Every guest is worth knowing.” But that’s not what I get.
“No, actually. I don’t. But there’s something about you, I guess. I just wanna know more.”
Damn. That’s sweet.
“So come on, let’s hear it,” he prompts.
“Okay. Viv and I run our own boutique marketing and branding agency. Let’s head back toward the house.” I turn on my heel, and he follows.
“Interesting. So what does that entail?” He matches me step for step. Out of my periphery, I can see his eyes are on me, so I attempt to keep my eyes forward.
“It’s not at all interesting. I don’t know why you want to know.” My thoughts become tangled, pulse skittering.Why does he keep asking questions?
“I mean, I could ask who made you think being difficult is a bad thing. Want me to ask that instead?” Luke’s tone never changes. He’s not being challenging or condescending. Yet, here I am, battling it out like he’s trying to steal my social security number.
I stop and glare at him. “What? Why would you ask that?”
“I saw the look on your face last night when I told you I liked difficult. Someone out there made you think it was a bad thing. Wanna tell me about that?” His mouth turns up in a knowing smile.
Tricky, tricky, tricky.
