“Ah, that makes sense.”
Lucy opened the storeroom and took out the checklist. It wouldn’t take long for her to close since Van was mopping down the dining room. She had to make sure everything was ready for lunch tomorrow and then she could be on her way.
God, she hoped her car worked.
“So he can give me a ride if I need one.” It looked like the cook had already done all tomorrow’s prep work. She checked off the list and signed it. “If he chooses to murder me, you’ll know who to look for.”
“Don’t fucking joke about that.”
The hoarse quality of his voice made her stop and step out of the pantry. “Joke about murders in Bliss? I thought we were supposed to do that to throw the tourists off.”
His shoulders were straight, a serious look in his eyes. “Stop it. I still think about it.”
She put down the clipboard and walked up to him, putting her hands on those tight shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m okay. He’s dead, and the saddest part was that he was really after Hope. I mean if I’m going to get murdered, I want it to be about me. I don’t want to be the side character who dies so the heroine finds the will to fight.”
“You’re still joking about it.”
“Well, it’s been two years and I’ve had some therapy. Maybe we should get you some.” She turned again, getting back to work. “You don’t have to stop by to make sure I can get home. I’m a big girl now. If something happens to my car, I can always call someone.”
“Me. You can call me.” His voice had softened. “Unless you only want to call Michael now.”
Sometimes he sounded like a jealous little boy. It was left over from their childhood, and she simply rolled her eyes at this point. “I didn’t call Michael in the first place. He showed up. I think Nate talked to him after Henry got back and everyone was still worried someone would rush into town guns ablazing and looking for revenge.”
“I don’t think so. I think Michael knows exactly what he’s doing. That’s why I want to talk to you.” He took a long breath as though he was steeling himself for something. “Are you interested in him?”
The last thing she needed was a lecture on how bad some other man would be for her. “I don’t see how that’s your business, Ty. You know I don’t ask about your girlfriends.”
“I don’t have girlfriends and you know it.”
She huffed. “Okay, I’ll be clearer. I don’t talk to you about your one-night stands.”
“Yes, you do. Do you know the amount of times you’ve lectured me on venereal diseases? Because I do. It’s fifty-nine. Fifty-nine times since I got back from Virginia six years ago. That’s once every thirty-seven days, Luce. And that doesn’t include all the jokes about it. These are verifiable lectures.”
He’d done the math? “What makes it verifiable?”
“I count it as a lecture if it lasts more than four minutes. Otherwise it’s just a dig.”
Damn. She hadn’t realized how often she’d talked to him about his sex life. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Ty. I was joking.”
“Maybe the first couple of times, but after the thousandth or so a man has to think. I know I’m the joke of this town.”
He was missing the point. He was considered a stud. “You’re not. I don’t think you being able to get sex whenever you like is exactly something people feel pity for you about.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” he said with an unamused laugh. “We live in a place filled with happy relationships. I assure you they think my life is sad.”
She didn’t understand what he was complaining about. She was the one with the pitiable reputation. She was the one who couldn’t find a date. “Because you can get any woman you want?”
His head shook. “Because I can’t get the only one I do want. Because the only one I want thinks I’m some kind of manwhore who she wouldn’t even consider looking at in a different light. Because the woman I want doesn’t think I’m pure enough.”
She felt her eyes widen because she’d never heard Ty so passionate. How stupid was this woman? Was she up at the lodge? “Holy shit. Who is she? What is she thinking? You’re not good enough? I would like to punch her in the face.”
He stared at her for a moment, a tension in his body she couldn’t quite describe. She only knew it was like the air around him had changed, been charged with some unnamed emotion.
“Luce, it’s you. I’m talking about you.”
It was her turn to stop. She couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”
A stubborn gleam hit his eyes. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. It’s time for us to stop fucking around and get down to business.”