He skimmed his lips gently down her cheek to the soft, warm skin of her neck where he kissed her lightly before drawing back to look into her eyes.
She was worried. He could tell right away.
“Was that not okay?” she asked, brow furrowed, voice breathless.
“That was amazing,” he answered, holding her tighter against him. If she needed evidence that he was into her physically, for reassurance, she could have it. His body was unmistakably aroused.
He pushed against her and she looked instantly relieved by the evidence of his attraction.
“Then why did you stop?”
“Because that’s not how I want to get to know you. I want to get to know who you are first.”
“Why?” she asked, her face so innocent and sweet, so surprised and hopeful, he wished he could memorize it.
“Because you’re worth knowing, Missy. Just for you. For what’s in here.” He raised one hand from the small of her back to tap lightly against the side of her head. “And here.” He lowered his hand to her chest, flattening it well above her breasts where her heart was racing.
“But why me?” she whispered, mesmerized.
“Because you remind me of someone,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her along so they could resume their walk once again.
When they arrived at the Grizzly Guzzle Grill, the greeter, Sally Jansen, gave Missy a surprised once-over before turning up her nose.
“Oh, look: it’s Missy.”
She inhaled sharply, hoping Sally wouldn’t embarrass her in front of Lucas. “H-Hi, Sally.”
“We’d like a table in the corner, please. Out of the way,” said Lucas evenly.
Sally smirked at Missy before sliding her eyes back to Lucas. “You want a little privacy, huh?”
“Exactly,” he confirmed with a light smile, without any hint of smarmy suggestion.
They were seated at a corner table, just as he requested, and given two menus. Missy looked around nervously. She wanted tonight to be different and she couldn’t bear it if one of her “old friends” showed up to humiliate her with innuendo about the “good times” they’d had together.
Her hands sweated and she swallowed uncomfortably, sweeping the room with her eyes. It looked like luck was on her side tonight. She didn’t recognize anyone except for Lars Lindstrom, who was bartending. Although they’d fooled around a time or two, they’d never slept together, and he’d always been kind to her. From the bar, he gave her a genuine grin and winked in a way that was teasing, not suggestive. Her shoulders relaxed in gratitude. Maybe it would be okay.
“So,” Lucas said, folding his menu and putting it flat on the table in front of him. “Christmas is on Friday. Did you get all of your shopping done today on your day off?”
“I don’t have a lot of shopping to do. It’s just me and my mama.”
“No siblings? Father?”
“My father stepped out before I was born. Stepfathers one and two lasted for various Christmases but didn’t end up sticking around. Stepfather three didn’t like Christmas, so he canceled it.”
“Canceled it?”
“Threw out our decorations and told us we weren’t having it anymore.”
She didn’t mention that stepfather one had been the first to cop a feel of her budding breasts, and while he’d never molested her other young-lady parts, he’d found every excuse in the book for brushing against her chest.
As a ten-year-old girl she’d been incredibly frightened but unwilling to rock the boat by telling her mother. Anyway, what would she have said? Don always seems to brush into my chest while he’s serving himself mashed potatoes or helping me with my Sunday coat.
She’d chosen to ignore it instead. After a while, it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t matter because Missy didn’t matter.
Except, maybe it should have mattered and maybe it could start mattering. Maybe if she mattered to someone, things could be different. She looked up at Lucas, and her heart kicked into a gallop.
“He sounds like a jerk.”
“He was,” she said, then added: “They all were.”
“I’m sorry,” said Lucas, clenching his jaw and staring down at the table.
Missy didn’t mean to make him mad or bring down the mood. She forced herself to smile and lighten up her voice. “But…but it’s okay. They’re all gone now.”
“I’m glad they’re gone,” said Lucas evenly, looking up at her. “But it’s not okay.”
“Hey, ya’ll,” said the waitress, stopping by their table. “What can I get you?”
She knew that voice.
Missy’s heart sank.
Margit Johnson.
Missy had inadvertently fooled around with Margit’s boyfriend Cliff in the ninth grade. It really wasn’t her fault; Cliff had insisted he and Margit had broken up and Missy had believed him…until Margit walked over to her desk the following day during study hall and smacked her hard in the face and bellowed: “That’s for putting your tongue in my boyfriend’s mouth, tramp!”
Missy swallowed nervously, bracing herself.
“Heya, Margit.”
“Heya, Missy,” Margit said, looking over at Lucas then back to Missy, a mean smirk on her face. “Who’s this, here?”
“Lucas,” said Missy. “We work together.”
“New to Gardiner?” asked Margit.
“Been here a few months,” answered Lucas.
“Well, Missy’s just about the most welcoming gal in town, aren’t ya, Missy? Real friendly.”
Lucas acted like she hadn’t even spoken. “I’ll have a beer, please. A Heineken.” He looked at Missy. “What do you want to drink?”
“A Coke, please.”
“A cock?” asked Margit, with wide, innocent eyes.
“She said a Coke,” said Lucas quietly.
“Oh, my bad. A beer and a Coke. Back in a jiff.”
Missy watched Margit pivot away and head for the bar, the lump in her throat almost choking her. She shouldn’t be here. She had no business pretending to be a nice girl on a date with a nice man. Things weren’t going to change. Not ever.
“Don’t let it get to you,” said Lucas, reaching across the table and taking her hand. “Just ignore her.”
Missy looked up into his eyes, his warm, kind brown eyes, and fanned her face with her free hand, trying to be brave, willing the gathering tears not to fall.
“You can put lipstick on a pig,” she whispered. “But it’s still just a pig.”
Anger blazed in his eyes and he squeezed her hand. Hard. Hard enough that it almost hurt. “Listen up, Missy. I don’t give a crap what she just said about you, but don’t you ever say something like that about yourself again. Not in front of me, anyway.”
Her eyes widened and she tried to pull her hand away, but he held on tightly though more gently.
“Clear?” he asked.
She swallowed once, then nodded as her racing heart calmed.
“Clear,” she answered.
When Margit returned with their drinks and placed them down on the table, Lucas didn’t release Missy’s hand or look up. Even when Missy’s eyes flicked up to say thanks to Margit, his were waiting for her when she looked back at him.