“What’s a Macaroni Matinee? Sounds like the lunch special at a senior center.”
Vanessa barked out a laugh as Lucie almost spit out the water in her mouth and then sputtered a second before she could safely swallow. Thankfully Vanessa answered so she could finish coughing in peace. “It’s our monthly girl date. The first Saturday of every month we see a movie and eat lunch at the Macaroni Grill and gorge ourselves on heart-attack-sized portions of carbs.”
“Ness, I can’t go for a while.”
“What?” Somehow she managed to make those gorgeous green eyes grow twice as big. Whenever Vanessa wanted something, she had a way of looking like Puss in Boots from Shrek when he used his pathetic kitty face. “But I’ve had a really shitty week in court and I need some major girl time where we do nothing but make horrible, judgy comments about other women and scope out guys’ asses in tight jeans.”
“But I can’t just leave Reid…” Lucie looked over at him with a look that said, Forgive me for what I’m about to suggest, but I don’t know what to do here. “Unless, you want to come with us?”
He laughed and held out his hands in resignation. “That’s okay, Lu. As much as I’d love the opportunity to scope out other guys’ asses, I’ll have to pass. Unfortunately, I can’t afford the carb overload right now. And speaking of that, I need to do some more grocery shopping for the house. Is there anything specific you want me to get?”
“No, what you picked up last week was great. It’s going to be hard to get used to my pathetic microwave dinners again after you’re gone. Who knew health food could be so tasty?”
“Whoa! I need a recess here.”
“This isn’t a courtroom, Nessie.”
“Are you living here?”
Lucie spoke quickly to keep any required damage control to a minimum. “Just for a couple of months until he’s recovered from his torn rotator cuff. I’ve taken my vacation weeks to work with Reid on a vigorous recovery and training program.”
“Wow, Luce, that’s really something else. I’m speechless.”
No you’re not, but you’re holding your tongue—albeit only temporarily—and I love you for it. “Well, I suppose I’d better go shower then.”
“Yeah, get a move on. You know how I hate getting bad seats in the theater.” Vanessa got up and crossed the room, adding, “I’ll be in the living room thumbing through your latest issue of Boring Medical Magazine hoping there’s a piece on the male gluteus maximus, complete with pictures.”
Once they heard her plop on the couch and set her soda on the table they looked at each other and quietly laughed in relief.
“She’s a trip,” he said.
Lucie stood, grateful her legs worked again. “You have no idea.”
“She’s very protective of you. She didn’t like it when you called yourself boring.” He took a step toward her, the playfulness gone. “Neither did I, by the way.”
“It’s the truth, though. I’ve never done anything wild or crazy or, God forbid, illegal.” She shrugged and picked imaginary lint from her new pants. “I’m a rule player.”
Another step. Now he was so close she could feel his breath on her skin. Lucie glanced at the doorway. What if Vanessa decided to walk back in? Fingers to her chin brought her attention up to him. “The only time I follow the rules is in the cage,” he said in a low voice.
“That mentality can get you into a lot of trouble.”
“I happen to like trouble.” His lopsided grin was so wicked. And delectable. Which was a weird way to describe a grin, but there it was. She wanted to lick it from one side to the other. “Go get ready and enjoy your girl outing. I’ll finish my stretches and exercises after I go to the store. Then later…” He dropped his gaze to her mouth and trailed a thumb over her lower lip. “…we’ll finish the other thing we started.”
“You still want to?” Lucie barely prevented herself from clapping a hand over her mouth. Sometimes she swore her ability to keep her internal monologues internal was faulty. It seemed she was forever trying to extract her size nine from her mouth.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t you?”
Shit. Was he asking because he hoped she still wanted to or because he hoped she didn’t, giving him the opportunity to bow out gracefully? And why did she insist on always overthinking these things? Because you’re in way over your head with this one, girlie.
“Yes?” A single brow arched, challenging her to take the damn question mark off her answer. “Yes. I mean yes.” She sighed in exasperation and wished for the thousandth time for the grace and calm Vanessa had. “I thought maybe you were just caught up in the heat of the moment, but now that you’ve had time to think, maybe you had second thoughts about getting involved.”