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There was something so disarming about him. His dark hair and striking blue eyes were certainly easy to look at it, but it was the kindness behind his gaze that always pulled at me. He carried himself with so much ease and confidence that some could mistake it for cockiness, but I knew better.
Lucas wasn’t cocky. He was merely confident. But women always gave him a hard time, thinking he was egotistical or a player. I knew this because I was one of those who thought the same until I peeled back some of his layers.
Not to say he didn’t date his fair share of women.
His lip curled up slightly on the right side, just under his dimple.
“Okay, spill it. Why are you here at nine o’clock in the morning? You would have had to have gotten up at six just to make the ferry.”
“Who said I needed to take the ferry?”
The sudden revelation unexpectedly tied knots in my belly. We were merely friends, so it didn’t matter how he spent his nights.
But lately, I noticed…
“Why would you be on Marigold Island?” I crossed my arms over my chest when I remembered that he’d texted about his date last night.
Was that why he was so happy?
He got lucky?
Ooph.
Maybe this was why I never specialized in having the opposite sex as my BFF. I shouldn’t care if he goes out with women. That was what he was supposed to do. That was what I was supposed to do.
But the idea of a good book always lured me more than the reality of the dating world. I loved nothing more than cracking open the book, smelling the fresh ink, and settling into whatever world I was exploring. Up until recently, I loved burying myself in romance, but about a year ago, I switched over to mysteries. About the time I met Lucas, actually. I just needed a change of scenery between the pages.
It didn’t help that I had an uncanny ability to let the story tell me things that it didn’t tell others. I might sound kooky, but it was true. Books spoke to me. The antiques spoke to Amelia, and books spoke to me. My grandma always said we were a family full of mystics, which sounded fanciful, even if it wasn’t true. It was a nice thought, though.
So, when the books suddenly whispered to switch to mystery, I listened, and it had proven to save my sanity with Lucas around.
And especially because being stood up last night wasn’t unusual. It usually happened on date two, as it happened last night. So, while Lucas was out gallivanting around, I twiddled my thumbs wondering what happened to Mr. Not-So-Wonderful.
Lucas cleared his throat, and I glanced over to see his dark brows arch. I noticed how the fine lines around his eyes crinkled. “Don’t you remember I had a date last night?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s hard to keep track of your social calendar.”
He smirked and took a step closer, and I had the sudden urge to stop breathing. I looked down at the old wooden floor and tried to focus. I had a list of things to do today at the store, and as much as I loved hanging out with Lucas, I couldn’t start letting him distract me at my job.
Keeping my head bent, looking at the floor, I tried to sneak a glance at him, but he was staring right at me.
He touched my chin softly and laughed. “Well, the date last night was a disaster. It was messy, unpredictable. My date was a sloppy eater. We couldn’t hold a conversation longer than a minute and a half. It felt like I was running after a toddler the entire time.”
A giddiness swept through my veins, followed by a deep sense of guilt.
I shouldn’t wish bad dates on the man.
Grinning, my eyes met his. “I had a date of my own last night.”
Lucas’s eyes instantly grew huge. “Yeah?”
I scowled and swatted at him. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”
He laughed and shook his head. “It’s not that. You just always make a point of letting the world know that you’re not interested.”
My scowl deepened. “What do you mean?”
Lucas stepped a little closer, and if I moved even an inch, I could wind up in his arms. He cupped my chin with his thumband index finger, and my chest tightened with something I had never felt before.
