Her Texas Family (11 page)

What had happened with Lucy today didn't change a thing.

* * *

I don't like it when you're right.

Lucy pressed Send on the text to her sister and started to put the phone down on the dock before tapping her thumbs over the keys again.

It's really annoying.

If Olivia hadn't poked and prodded, Lucy would likely still have any feelings for Graham deeply buried and locked up. Which meant, even though Olivia had been right, Lucy should absolutely blame her.

Though she had only herself to blame for not listening when her sister had suggested Lucy pray about Graham. Lucy had been her usual self, thinking she could handle everything on her own, that she had everything under control. But this didn't feel under control.

This felt like riding a roller coaster with a broken seat harness.

Lucy didn't like being wrong. It was a strange occurrence for her.

It also wasn't like her to sit by herself, contemplating a turn of events she definitely hadn't seen coming. She should probably head back to the party. In a minute she would go dance with Danielle and her bridesmaids and have a good time.

After all, that was what she was: the good-time girl. Fun was her motto. She made it happen in her own life and others'. Only, today, the plan had completely backfired and she didn't know what to do about it.

A situation that made her very uncomfortable.

When footsteps sounded on the dock behind her, Lucy didn't turn. Her eyelids fell shut. It would be him. Noble Graham. Of course he would come check on her. Dread of their impending conversation settled like a brick in her stomach. He sat beside her, dangling his feet off the dock but not far enough to let the water touch his black dress shoes.

“You have great taste in shoes.”

His quiet laugh answered her. “You okay?”

She felt his eyes on her and forced a smile. “Yep. You?”

He nodded.

She might as well get this over with. “About earlier—”

“Lucy—”

“Let me finish. I'm sorry. I was messing around and I shouldn't have.” She really, really shouldn't have. “Trust me, if I could go back, I would.” He had no idea how much she meant that.

“Stop apologizing, Lucy. It's not that big of a deal.”

“Right. And that's why you've been avoiding me all night?”

He shrugged. “I just needed a little time to process. That's how my mind works.”

She could see that.

“Despite the...ending, I had fun today, Duchess. The most fun I've had in a long time. You were right. I needed this.”

She wanted to weep.

“I think today was good for me.”

It wasn't today. It was me. I'm good for you.
She resisted the desire to whack him across the back of the head and knock the thought into his brain. Instead, she settled for a huge, indulgent sigh.

“Anyway, let's just forget about...earlier.”

Forgetting about it sounded like an impossible task. When Graham walked away, she'd have to dive into the water and fish her heart out from under the dock.

His response shouldn't sting, but it did. What had she expected him to say?
Lucy, I was wrong. Maybe there is room for someone else in my life. I just didn't realize it until you.

Even if he was willing to move on, she wasn't crazy enough to think Graham would go for her in that way. They were too opposite. He was everything put together and she was everything falling apart. And she wouldn't change who she was, even for Graham.

But it would be nice to know that he at least had the potential to feel something for her. That truth stung, too. If Graham moved on with anyone, it would be with someone like Pearls. The woman he'd been dancing with had looked like a perfect fit for him.

“Did you meet someone?” She forced her gaze out to the water and fought the urge to tuck under his arm the way she had earlier today. It was as if she'd been pushed off a cliff. She'd gone from admitting nothing in regard to Graham to admitting everything. She needed to claw her way back up that mountain to her previous innocence. “I saw you dancing with—”

“Cherie? We've known each other since med school. She's a doctor down here now. She knew Brooke.”

So he wasn't exactly asking the woman on a date. At least, not that Lucy knew of.

She
really
needed to get these newly discovered feelings under control. Graham had told her straight-out he didn't plan to date or marry. Therefore, this crush she was entertaining was not acceptable. And she
would
be deeming it a crush. It couldn't be more. She hadn't known Graham long enough for it to be more.

She could get over a crush. She could be logical about all of this.

Somehow she had to be. Because Graham was still married to his wife and always would be. Brooke's hold on his heart would go on forever. Lucy even understood it. If she'd lost someone like Graham had, that person would always have a piece of her. It made sense. But if there was any chance of sharing—if there was a possibility Graham could make room for Lucy and Brooke—she'd take that plunge. But Lucy knew there wasn't.

And she didn't stand a chance fighting a memory.

Chapter Eleven

“I
t still hurts.” On Wednesday night, Mattie sat on the couch gripping a white blanket in her hands, lower lip protruding in an adorable pout.

Graham deposited a mug of warm milk on the coffee table in front of his daughter and held the back of his hand against her forehead. Still a low-grade fever.

“What hurts?”

“Everything, Daddy.”

He sank to a sitting position on the coffee table, facing her. She might as well rip out his heart while she was at it. He might be a doctor, he might be able to deal with everyone else's medical problems, but when it came to Mattie, he was a mess.

He hated seeing her sick or in pain—just like he had Brooke. He knew Mattie had a virus that was going around. She had a temperature of 101, aches, pains and a runny nose. But even with that knowledge telling him that in a few days she would be fine, his feelings of helplessness continued to grow.

When Mattie had arrived at the clinic after school today, she'd looked a bit pale. At first, he'd thought it was a midweek thing. Sometimes she was exhausted on Wednesdays, especially going to full-day kindergarten. Plus, the previous weekend had been busy with him being gone all day Saturday and her sleeping over at his parents'.

He'd hoped she was just in need of a lazy movie night and pizza ordered in. But since that time a few hours ago, she'd spiked a fever and seemed to be heading rapidly downhill.

What was he going to do with her tomorrow? She wasn't showing signs of bouncing back overnight and he had to work. It wasn't as if he could cancel his patients for a day.

Graham got out his phone and texted his mom. She would watch Mattie—she always did. But that didn't make it any easier to see his girl sick.

“Do you want orange juice instead of milk? And we can put on
Frozen
.” For the millionth time.

Her head swung back and forth.

“Do you want me to make soup?”

“Mommy's soup?”

When Mattie was younger, Graham had called chicken noodle soup “Mommy's soup,” and the name had stuck. Not that he made it like Brooke used to. She'd made it from scratch—or at least partially homemade. She used to add dumplings and vegetables. Now Graham bought it premade. He wasn't even sure he had any in the cupboard.

“Let me check if we have some.” He went into the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards, sighing in relief when he found a package. After getting it started on the stove, he returned to the living room. He started the movie and then turned back to Mattie. “I've got the soup going. What else?”

When Mattie's eyes filled with moisture, Graham sank next to her on the couch, scooping her onto his lap. “Honey, I know you don't feel well. I'd do just about anything to make you feel better.”

She toyed with her blanket. “I want Lucy.”

Graham stiffened. He must have heard her wrong. Or maybe she wanted one of her many stuffed animals, which she was constantly naming after people she knew.

“Is that the white tiger?”

Her small giggle warmed him. “No, Daddy. Ms. Lucy. Do you think she'd come over?”

No. No, he did not. Didn't he see enough of her? Since the weekend, he and Lucy had gone back to work, both adopting a “didn't happen” and “no big deal” approach about the kiss. It was working, but he didn't need to poke a sleeping bear.

“She's probably busy, honey.”

“But you could check.”

He could check. Hadn't he just said he'd do anything for Mattie? His daughter turned in his lap, looking up at him with those green eyes glimmering like mossy pools. “All right. I'll ask her, but if she can't, no getting upset. I'm sure she has other things going on.” That thought gave him a bit of relief. Lucy was a fluttering social butterfly. She'd likely already have plans.

“But she loves me, Daddy.”

He couldn't deny that. “You're right. She does.” Heat sneaked under his shirt, and he tugged at his collar, fingers meeting the long-sleeved T-shirt he'd changed into after work. The way Lucy loved his daughter might be endearing, but that didn't mean it was a good idea to ask her over.

And he certainly didn't need to be a doctor to diagnose that the idea gave him a rapid pulse and shortness of breath.

* * *

Lucy propped her phone on the bathroom counter, putting it on speakerphone so she could continue talking with Bodie while she pulled her hair up. He'd called on Sunday and she hadn't answered, but today, she had.

They'd been on the phone for a while, and she had to admit, it was nice to talk to him again. She did like him. She just wasn't sure anything could come of those feelings. Especially now that she'd figured out how she felt about Graham.

Knowing she couldn't have him felt like looking into a store window and seeing the most beautiful display, and then noticing the small sign hanging from it that said Not for Sale.

Was this what Liv was such a proponent of? This kind of achy feeling? Like being trampled by a horse? Lucy was so going to have a talk with her sister when she saw her tomorrow night.

“Let's go on a date this week.”

She twisted her hair on top of her head. “How are we going to do that? You do recall that we live in different states. What are you going to do? Jump on a plane and fly down here?”

“Not a bad idea.” His low voice did absolutely nothing to her stomach. So disappointing. She could totally go for a flip or jiggle of excitement. But maybe she needed to push past the lack of instant feelings. At least Bodie showed interest and pursued her. Something that would never happen with Graham.

“I meant over FaceTime. We could have dinner. I'll plan it. What do you say?”

Her cell showed a call from Graham, but Lucy ignored it. The man wasn't good for her. He made her heart all unhappy and hurting. This week at work, she'd made a conscious effort not to yank him into his office, slam the door and kiss him. Really kiss him this time. At least then they'd have something to fight about. Instead, they'd been perfectly nice to each other, leaving Lucy's gut churning with the desire for more. Not necessarily more kisses, though she'd take some of those, too, but more of Graham.

Since her realization about Graham at the wedding, Lucy had finally taken her sister's advice and started praying about him. About herself. About everything, really. What she should do after her job at the clinic ended. How to keep from going any further down sappy-crush lane. Her attempts at remembering to pray might be only slightly better than pathetic, but she was making an effort. That had to count for something, right?

“Lucy, you've pulled away since you moved. Give me another chance. Give us a chance.”

What harm could a date with Bodie cause? It might get her mind off Graham for an evening. “Okay.”

“Great. Friday night?”

“I haven't been on a Friday-night date in forever.”

“Good. Because you should be dating me and nobody else.” The mix of humor and determination in his voice made Lucy laugh.

After they hung up, she went into the bedroom of her small above-garage apartment and changed into plaid pajama pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. She wanted to do nothing tonight. Maybe watch a movie. Eat popcorn for dinner. It seemed like that sort of a night.

When her phone beeped with a text, she hustled back into the bathroom and grabbed it from the counter.

I'm sorry to bother you. M is sick and she wants you. Any chance you're not busy?

Lucy's thumbs hovered over the keys. Seeing Graham probably wasn't in her best interests. Not with her still nursing this crush and daydreaming about kissing him in his office or an exam room too many times a day.

Saying no to Graham was one thing. But how could she say no to her Mattie girl?

When Lucy had entered Mattie's life, it wasn't on a temporary basis. At the time, it'd had nothing to do with Graham. Therefore, her relationship with the little girl should have nothing to do with Graham now.

He didn't affect her
that
much.

Right. Lucy had better not let her sister get hold of that one.

* * *

She showed up on his doorstep in typical Lucy style—pink-and-green plaid pajama pants, slippers that looked like knit ballet shoes and her hair piled in a mess on top of her head. It wasn't that cold, yet she looked ready to hunker down for a snowstorm the way she was bundled into her fleece jacket.

“Where is she? Is she okay?”

Graham swung the door farther open for her to come in. “She's fine. She's fighting something and she's emotional. You women seem to do that up-and-down thing when you're sick.”

Lucy stepped into the house. “I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm solid as a rock. Haven't cried a day in my life.”

“Right.
Even-keeled...
That's a word I would use to describe you.”

Her eyes narrowed, lips pursed. His gaze fell to her mouth and stuck like Super Glue.

“I've missed you desperately in the few hours since work, Hollywood. I almost didn't know how I was going to go on without seeing you until morning.”

Her sassy response had him fighting a smile, and his stress over Mattie not feeling well kicked down a notch. “I was just thinking the same about you, Duchess.”

Graham swung the door shut and took Lucy's coat. She strode across the living room and dropped onto the couch, scooping Mattie's legs over her lap. “What's up, Matilda Grace? Is your dad driving you crazy? Are you faking being sick so that I would come over and rescue you from him?”

Mattie giggled and snuggled into Lucy.

“Dad, I'm hungry.”

That was a good sign. Her medicine must be taking the edge off how she was feeling. “You just ate soup. What do you want now? Toast?”

“Chinese food. I want orange chicken.”

Lucy held up a hand, which Mattie high-fived. “Best idea ever. Me, too. I'm starving.” Both pairs of eyes swung to him, and those symptoms he'd had earlier started in again. They were both beautiful. Mattie's beauty stemmed from her serious nature, from the way she cared about people with a maturity far beyond her years—and the fact that she looked like a miniature Brooke. And Lucy's came from a combination of her effervescent personality, her big heart and the annoying fact that she was gorgeous. Even when she was wearing pajamas with her hair in a messy bun, the sight of her reached in and squeezed the air from his lungs.

What was he going to do with the two of them? They made a formidable team. And he was in trouble.

“Chinese food?” His voice cracked with all the maturity of a twelve-year-old boy. “I'll find the menu.” And escape to the kitchen. He'd been right. Inviting Lucy over hadn't been a great idea.

Ever since the weekend, thinking of her in a professional way only was almost impossible.

Thinking of her in other ways—unfortunately—came more easily.

Graham got the take-out menu from the drawer. After asking Lucy what she wanted—which was to share and have a little of everything, big surprise—he called in the order.

He hung up and tossed the menu back in the drawer just as Mattie laughed at something Lucy said. His daughter didn't sound very sick right now. Was Lucy right? Was Mattie pretending not to feel well?

No way. Mattie might love Lucy, but she couldn't fake a fever. It must be the meds—both the Lucy ones and the ibuprofen ones—making a difference.

When he headed back into the living room, Lucy was digging in the cupboard below the TV, half her body disappearing inside the space.

“Help yourself.”

She scooted out, hitting her head on the way, then sat back and rubbed the spot, glaring at him.

“You okay?”

Her petulant look increased, lower lip protruding slightly. The desire to kiss away her pout washed over him. Until he remembered his daughter sitting on the couch watching the two of them. And the fact that he wasn't supposed to think of Lucy in that way.

“I'm fine. Mattie wants to play a game. She said they were in here.”

“She said correctly.”

Lucy reached into the cupboard and pulled a stack of games out, holding them on her lap. “Chutes and Ladders, Candy Land or Monopoly Junior?”

“Monopoly,” Mattie answered with authority.

“That's my smart girl.” Lucy shoved the other two back into the cupboard. They looked crooked, as though they might fall the next time he opened the door, but Graham resisted fixing them. He'd do it after she left.

Kind of like he'd vacuumed his car after their drive to San Antonio, just as he'd said he would.

Lucy set the game up on the coffee table and Graham turned the movie volume down, leaving it on in the background.

“Do we need to pick up the food?”

“I got it delivered.”

“This town has delivery? Does someone show up on a horse?”

“We're not that small, Duchess.” Although delivery was a rather new addition.

She laughed at her own joke, and his stomach did that annoying twist it did whenever Lucy was around. No medical terminology could describe it.

He sat on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, and they started the game. Mattie's attention span was a four out of ten at best, and she spent half the time dazed out and watching the movie, the other half being reminded to play. Though Lucy might have improved Mattie's mood, his daughter still wasn't feeling great.

Lucy, on the other hand, was a competitor. If he didn't watch it, she might own his actual house by the end of the night.

“Where'd you learn to play such a mean game of Monopoly?”

“My sister.” Lucy took her turn and did not go to jail. “She's supercompetitive and loves to win. I always lost to her. You, on the other hand, are not as formidable an opponent.”

He rolled the die. “I'm letting you win.”

“I prefer to win my battles without assistance, as you probably already know.”