The Hardest Fight. Amy Vastine
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leave him. He would have left her when he found out she would be permanently scarred. He never would have wanted to be with someone whose curves weren’t real.
She did her best to tamp her emotions back down. “If the shoe fits...”
Eugene cleared his throat and Lucy noticed the other diners in their section of the restaurant were gaping at her.
“I was told no one was going to get us thrown out of here,” Eugene said. “If you two can’t be civil, that’s exactly what will happen.”
Lucy and Dylan each took a deep breath and kept their mouths shut so no more words could sneak out. This was a huge mistake. Thinking they could spend an amicable lunch together was laughable. Lucy was about to get up and leave when the food arrived. Eating would thankfully keep their mouths busy.
All conversation ceased at their small, square table. Eugene let Paige know her noodle recommendation was a good one, but that was pretty much all anyone said until it was time to go. Dylan pulled out his wallet to pay the bill.
“Put that away,” Paige said, reaching for her purse. “I lost the bet. Lunch is on me.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t really read her mind. It was all simple observation, like Lucy said.”
“The bet wasn’t about whether or not you could read minds, it was about whether or not you were right. You were definitely right. Lunch is on me,” Paige insisted.
Dylan stole a glance in Lucy’s direction. He was probably afraid of being verbally assaulted if he let Paige pay. With a full belly and some self-reflection, Lucy could admit she had been harder on him than he deserved. Eugene must think she was crazy.
“How about you all let me pay? I’m the one who ruined everyone’s lunch.” She had also made it clear to Dylan that he was affecting her more than she wanted him to know. She pulled out some cash and slipped it in the bill folder. “Tell our waitress to keep the change. I’m going to head home to finish some work.”
Paige and Eugene thanked her and offered her a goodbye. Dylan said nothing. She was halfway out the door when she felt someone grip her arm.
“Hang on a second.” Dylan let her go the moment she stopped moving. “I just want to be clear about something.” His jaw was tense but his eyes were soft. “I don’t know why you dislike me so much, but this isn’t about us.”
The way he said “us” made Lucy’s stomach flip. There hadn’t been an “us” in a very long time. There would never be an “us” again.
“I know. It’s about Open Arms and Safe Haven. Two things I care about. Two things that I won’t give up.”
Dylan looked as though she had punched him in the gut. His hurt expression quickly changed to one full of nothing but exasperation. He leaned in close and seemed to be trying hard to keep his voice calm. “Well, I want you to know that I’m not giving up, either. Maybe it’s your turn to find out what it’s like to lose something you care about.”
He disappeared back into the restaurant, leaving Lucy without an opportunity to have the last word. She knew better than anyone what it was like to lose. Where were his sense of passion and willingness to fight for what he wanted five years ago? He seemed to care more about this real estate deal than he’d ever cared about her.
IF DYLAN HAD to write a list of words that described Lucy Everhart, it would include every synonym for infuriating. Her nasty attitude toward him was beyond tiring. It was unbelievable that she could be so bitter when she was the one who had ended their relationship half a decade ago. If anyone had a right to be hateful, it was Dylan, not she.
He decided he needed to do whatever it took to get this deal promptly done for Prime Developments. Paige was the key and Dylan had her all figured out. The gifts of furniture and repairs opened the door exactly as he’d planned. What he hadn’t expected was the way she’d taken to Eugene. It was an added bonus.
The good news was that Eugene seemed equally smitten. He was definitely disappointed when Paige didn’t stick around on Sunday while they painted. She had business to attend to at Safe Haven and left them to work under the watchful eye of Hannah, her assistant.
Lucy was not around, which was a relief. He couldn’t take any more of her wrath. She made him question everything about their shared past. The things she had said at lunch made him feel as if she’d doubted his fidelity when they were together, which was unbelievable. When she had been in his life, there had been no one else. No one caught his eye the way Lucy still did.
“I have to go,” Eugene said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Jeremy gets home in an hour.”
They had primed all the walls and trimmed everything in the light gray Paige had picked out. Dylan could finish the rest on his own fairly easily. “Thanks for your help this weekend. I owe you one.”
“You always owe me one. I think we’re up to somewhere around a hundred ones by now.”
“You know I’m good for it, right?”
“Maybe if you give my number to Paige so she can call me, you know, whenever she needs a handyman, I’ll call us even.”
Dylan’s eyebrows lifted. Good ol’ Eugene was more than smitten. Taking care of Jeremy was all he ever focused on. It was good to see him doing something for himself. “Well, well, well. I think someone hopes she calls for more than just a handyman.”
Eugene fought a smile as his cheeks pinked up. “Don’t forget to touch up the ceiling where we patched.”
“I won’t,” Dylan promised, chuckling at his friend’s attempt to change the subject.
Finishing the job alone wasn’t difficult. Hannah was busy gossiping with someone on the phone, classic rock was playing on the radio Eugene left behind and rolling paint on the wall didn’t take too much skill. Dylan let the music move him while he worked. His hips began to sway a little and his head bobbed to the beat. During a particular part of the song, he might have strummed a few chords of air guitar.
“What are you doing?”
Dylan’s head snapped in the direction of her voice. Lucy was staring as if he was spray painting graffiti on the walls. He gave his work a quick once-over to make sure he hadn’t messed something up while enjoying the music. When he was satisfied that everything was fine, his gaze landed back on her. “Painting.”
“Painting?” She cocked a brow. “Not channeling Eric Clapton?”
Was she teasing him? When the corners of her mouth curled up the tiniest bit, he relaxed and shrugged. “You know how I feel about Eric Clapton. I can’t resist when he’s on.”
She almost unleashed a grin but controlled herself and moved on to Hannah, who was more than eager to get out of there. Dylan tried not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but it was impossible. Lucy somewhat reluctantly agreed to stay until he was finished painting so Hannah could have the rest of her Sunday off.
No one wanted Lucy to babysit Dylan less than he did. Things had been going so smoothly, and now he was destined to walk on eggshells the rest of the afternoon. Luckily, she slipped into her office and shut the door. Maybe this way they could each pretend the other didn’t exist.
Dylan went back to painting, ignoring the pull Lucy’s presence had on him. What was she doing here on a Sunday? Did the woman ever take a day off? Had she known he was here and come to check on him? How long was it going to take her to inform him for the millionth time that he was unwelcome and she planned to do everything in her power to win this fight?
Lucy didn’t come out or say anything to incite another argument, but sounds coming from the other side of the wall made Dylan curious. Groans of frustration. Slamming of books. Obscenities shouted, perhaps at the computer. Dylan couldn’t