Page 25 of Was I Ever Free

Her voice wavers when she says quietly, “You bought me the hat?”

I press my lips together but keep my gaze locked with hers.

I replay the scene in my head as we stand there, both not saying anything. The expression she had when she put it on and looked at herself in the mirror. The joy of a simple baby blue cowboy hat.

Not to mention the vague feeling of déjà vu it jostled free inside me. I knew if I went looking, I’d find the hat written somewhere in my notebook. First the map, now this. Another coincidence. Another memory I want to shove away and forget, but can’t.

That aside, Lucy was breathtaking to watch.

Then her following reaction, so similar to heartache, scratched at my conscience, and it was too much for me to see.

I had to buy it.

I clear my throat and cross my arms. “It was made for you,” I say with a shrug.

She stays silent for another beat, looking down at the box and the giggling squeal that follows takes me by surprise. She flies into my arms and a smalloomphleaves my lips as she circles her arms around my waist and squeezes hard. The top of her head falls right under my nose and her still-damp curls tickle my face, while I try not to breathe her scent in through large lungfuls. My arms are stuck half-raised in the air, unsure if I should hug her back, so I stay unmoving instead until she pulls away and gives me a watery smile, mumbling a thank you.

She skips back to the bed and finally pulls the hat out of the box, putting it on with a flourish. Prancing into the bathroom, she disappears for a second and then walks back out, the baby blue hat still on her head and the widest smile on her face.

“Isn’t it the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen?” she says, still beaming.

I lick my lips and give her half a grin. “It sure is, Luce.”

Her smile falters as if suddenly nervous and blurts out, “Have a drink with me.”

“You still have some vodka?” I say distractedly while I pick up my phone from the bedside table, quickly replying to a few of Connor’s messages.

“No—uh, I mean, let’s go out… to a bar… together.”

I peek at her standing in the middle of the room. And suddenly the image of her still wearing that hat, her arms slightly swinging from side to side as she waits for an answer with a shy expression on her face, makes me want to agree to anything Lucy asks of me.

I nod, unable to look away as I pocket my phone.

Her smile widens, sudden relief flashing across her gaze. “I saw a bar called The Arcade not far from here. Maybe we could go there?”

I give her another one of my nods while walking into the bathroom. “Let me just change first.”

* * *

I realizemy mistake as soon as I open the door to The Arcade.

Lucy brought us to a fucking strip club.

I can’t believe my oversight. How I didn’t look this place up beforehand is beyond me. I bite back a groan and peer over to her walking in right behind me.

By the shock written on her face—she had no fucking clue either.

I consider shoving her out the door and finding another place to have a drink. A decent guy would find an excuse to get her out of here. That’s before I watch Lucy try to steel her nerves, straightening her shoulders and sliding a determined look over her flustered nerves. I can’t fight the amusement at the sight while I decide upon my next move.

Little Luce wants to pretend this doesn’t bother her, does she?

Fine, I’ll play.

“Problem?” I drawl, giving her a side glance.

Her laugh is forced. “No problem at all.” She fidgets with her cowboy hat before blurting, “Table?”

“Lead the way,” I say followed by a small hand flourish.

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