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Ten days later, we were finally on our way to North Carolina. The days were getting warmer, and Lucy and I were getting closer. I’d never felt so comfortable and relaxed with a woman before. We’d only been seeing each other for six weeks, but I felt as if I’d known her my entire life.
We left early in the morning and were cruising along I-95 at a good pace. At this rate, we would be there in less than five hours. I clicked on satellite radio and “American Woman” came on. My thumbs tapped the steering wheel as I glanced at Lucy.
“I love this song.”
She smiled and nonchalantly said, “This is my stripper song.”
Not sure I’d heard her correctly, I said, “I’m sorry, your what?”
“What?”
“Did you say stripper song?”
When I glanced over at Lucy, she was doing her best to stifle a smile. She bit her bottom lip and her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.
“Um, yeah. I mean, I’m not a stripper nor have I ever been, but if I were one, this would be my song.”
The mere thought of her stripping onstage in front of horny men was an image I didn’t want in my head. On the other hand, I’d gladly let her strip for me.
“So, your parents’ house at the beach,” she said, deftly changing the subject. “Do we each get a room there? Is it big?”
“It has eight bedrooms.” Did she want her own room? “If you’re more comfortable not sharing, I understand.”
“Nope. I’m all about sharing and conservation.”
“Conservation? What are you conserving by sharing a room with me?”
“Water, space, and time, to name a few.”
“Okay, maybe I’m still trying to process the stripper comment, but how do you save water and time?” I knew where she was going with space.
“If we don’t sleep together, then another room will need to be prepared. Which means more linens to wash, and that uses water. Someone will need to do the work, and that takes time. So if we share a room, we conserve.”
She smiled at me and popped a Swedish Fish in her mouth from the package she’d brought with her.
“That’s some logic you’ve got there, but I’ll go with it.”
“That’s me, Ms. Logical.” She giggled.
This was an entirely different side of Lucy. She seemed relaxed, which was exactly what I wanted. I had big plans for this weekend.
I did everything I could not to tell her right now I was in love with her; I wanted to save it for this weekend. I’d reserved a private bungalow for Sunday night, and planned to have it all set up for the most romantic night a woman could dream of.
“We should be at the club soon.”
“So, does everyone in your family golf?”
“Not like Dane, but yes. Have you ever played?”
“I played miniature golf when I was younger, but that’s it.”
“Well, just remember that scoring is the opposite of other sports. Golfers want the lowest score, not the highest.”
“Yeah, that always confused me, but I think I get it. They need their ball in the hole in less strokes than the other guys.” Then she looked at me and batted her eyes. “How many strokes does it take for your ball to get in the hole?”
We both laughed for a moment, and I cleared my throat. “Okay, no more golf or stripper talk until we’re out of a moving vehicle.”
“Fine. What should we talk about?”
“We can talk about you.”
That was the end of the laughter, which made me very sorry I’d mentioned it. Luckily, we’d pulled up to the country club where Dane was participating in a charity event. It was the last day of the tournament and still early in the afternoon, so I just needed to find out what hole he was on. I parked the car and before we got out, Lucy placed her hand on my forearm.