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Lucy glanced over from where she’d just walked through the bathroom door. She had a fluffy towel wrapped around her, and though it hid her curves, the exposed skin of her shoulders and calves had him craving the feel of her. She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t go home last night, did you?”
There was no use in denying it. “Nope.” He’d wanted to see her—had needed to see her—and the extra forty minutes it would have taken were forty minutes too many. He nodded at the bathroom door. “Mind if I use your shower?”
“Of course not. Go for it.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Gideon showered quickly, pausing long enough to wish he had time to shave, but he wasn’t likely to see anyone he knew professionally today. He paused in front of his suitcase. Lucy had been wearing casual clothes earlier, and it might make her uncomfortable if he used his last suit. The other option wasn’t as comfortable for him, but he’d make do.
He had promised her, after all.
When he walked out of the bathroom, she froze. “You...” She gave herself a shake. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you rumpled-looking before—not even in college.”
He glanced down at his designer jeans and the flannel shirt he’d thrown over a white T-shirt. “I’m not rumpled.”
“You are most definitely rumpled.” She moved closer, taking him in as a small smile pulled at the edges of her lips. “You look like you should be standing on a porch on some mountainside, a steaming cup of coffee in hand while you contemplate whatever it is that lumberjacks contemplate.” She ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. “I like it.”
“Rumpled suits me.”
“You don’t have to sound so cranky when you say it.” She smoothed down his shirt, actually leaning forward a few inches before she seemed to remember herself and took several steps back. “I’m ready when you are.”
She wore a different variation of what she’d had on earlier: dark leggings, a long black T-shirt and a slouchy knitted cardigan thing. Her pants were tucked into a sleek pair of knee-high boots. Rumpled was not a word he’d use to describe her, but with her hair falling in careless waves to her shoulders, she looked relaxed. Almost peaceful.
He liked it.
Gideon pulled on his shoes and then they headed down to the street. Lucy paused on the sidewalk. “It’s such a nice day.”
He could pick up a clue as obvious as that one. “We could walk. It’s only a handful of blocks.”
“Are you sure? We didn’t really talk about what your other plans are for the day and—”
“There are no other plans.” He cut in before she could talk herself out of the whole day. “I worked all week. I cleared today for you, Lucy.”
“Oh. Well...oh.” She managed to look everywhere but at him. “I’m sorry—is this weird? It didn’t feel all that strange when I suggested it earlier, but I think common sense has taken hold.”
“More like nerves.” He pressed his hand to the small of her back. “Walk with me, Lucy. What’s the harm that could come of it?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHAT’S THE HARM that could come of it?
Lucy forced herself to look at Gideon. His expression was as open as she’d ever seen it, inviting her to take this first step with him. First step into what, though? It had been an off-the-cuff thing to tell him that she wanted today, but through her shower and then his, the importance of that statement—this plan—had grown to epic proportions.
It felt like a date.
Except she wasn’t supposed to be dating Gideon. She was supposed to be dating the men Gideon set her up with.
He didn’t look particularly concerned that they had left the boundary of their agreed-upon relationship in the rearview. He offered his arm, the old-world gesture so very Gideon.
She slipped her hand onto his arm and fell into step with him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it was. She didn’t know anymore. These days, it felt like up was down and down was up, and Lucy was bouncing somewhere in the middle.
“How was your trip? Other than having to fend off a city full of free spirits.” She injected false sympathy into her tone. “You poor thing.”
Gideon shook his head. “You mock me while you were here, safe in New York. The people on that coast aren’t anything like our people. They chat.” He gave a mock shudder. “You wouldn’t last two days.”
“On the contrary, I’m not nearly as cranky and antisocial as you are. I’d be fine.”
“There is that.” He pulled her to a stop at the curb as cars whizzed past. “It was a productive trip. One of my prospective fits looks like she’ll work out, and I managed to source a secondary backup in Portland. Those two cities are filled to the brim with tech geniuses, so if I can lure either woman over here, they’ll have jobs waiting.”
