Page 8 of The Way We Were(wolf)

“It’s how you look at those pumpkin rolls.” She nodded at the small plate in front of Lucy, and just the mention of them in all their cream-cheesy goodness made her mouth water. Which was ridiculous because she’d already eaten half of it, the evidence of which was no doubt stuck in every crevice of her teeth that pastry could cling to. But she didn’t want to think about that, so her mind involuntarily shifted to Eric again. And what do you know—more watering. “I’m just glad I set the two of you up for this project.”

“But you didn’t. He volunteered.” It was a detail she remembered as vividly as the flavor profile of her favorite dessert. Both the gesture and the treat were equally as sweet because he was giving up a lot of free time to help someone he didn’t really know that well.

So, why had he volunteered to do this project with her? He had to know it would mean spending a significant amount of time with her. Did he want that? The tiny thrill that coursed through her body at the thought pepped her up more than the espresso in her cup. But on second thought…were those prank-style shows still a thing? Maybe he was the producer of one, and he’d just found the perfect candidate for his award-winning episode. Unlikely. He already had comedy gold between the pumpkin-rolling and vacuum-of-death incidents alone. He needed nothing else from her.

Stella paused after a sip of her drink. “That is true. He offered. I wonder why.” She waggled her brows, and Lucy was momentarily jealous that her cousin’s eyebrows had better dance moves than she did.

“I can promise there’s no way he offered to help because of what you’re insinuating.” Because that wasn’t Lucy’s reality. People didn’t help her out of the goodness of their hearts. They didn’t want to be around her unless they had something to gain. And forget the whole mutual-attraction thing. The past was a powerful teacher, and she’d be wise to remember its lessons.

“Is this because of—”

“Don’t even say his name,” Lucy interrupted. Just the thought of it was enough to turn the once bold coffee flavor in her mouth to something bitter on her tongue. “We had a deal, remember?”

“Ah, yes,” she said, taking a sip of her drink before continuing. “The don’t-talk-about-what’s-his-name rule. A healthy way to deal with that whole situation for sure.” Stella rolled her eyes, but they softened like butter on a windowsill as she reached a hand across the table. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about it, but is it really healthy to let it live rent free in here?” She tapped the side of Lucy’s head with her index finger.

Lucy looked down at her cup as she twisted it from side to side on the table. Her cousin was right, of course. Or at least, she would have been if she knew the entire story. She was only aware of the part where her trust in someone caused her last relationship to implode. She knew nothing of the part where that same naivety cost her a job.

Bravery eluding her, Lucy peered down at her cup once again, running her finger across the handwritten name on it. “Lucy Ball? That one’s a stretch.”

“They do the best they can here at Mountain Brew, where nobody knows your name.” She nodded to the logo at the front of the store with those exact words scrawled across the bottom. “Finding a famous last name to match each customer’s first isn’t always easy.” She held up her cup. “At least yours is a real person. Not like mine.” She rotated the cup so Lucy could see the inscription on it.

“Stella Pritchett?”

Stella crossed her arms and leveled Lucy with a look that contradicted the twitch in her mouth. She was trying—and failing—to hold back a laugh. “It’s that dog fromModern Family.”

“Oh, yeah! I remember her! She ate shoes, jumped in their pool. And remember that time she ran away, and they couldn’t find her? And then Cam and Gloria walked the neighborhood, and he shouted—”

“Don’t even do it. You wouldn’t believe how long that lasted, people shouting at the top of their lungs, ‘Stellaaaaaaaaa!’and stretching my name into about eight syllables.”

Lucy chuckled, grateful for the shift in conversation, even if it was only temporary. She knew they’d circle back to it eventually. Her cousin was no Elsa, because sheneverlet anything go. “You have to admit that was at least a little funny.”

“I will…if you admit you have at least a teeny crush on Eric.”

Well, then. We’re back to it.

“Look.” Lucy sat back from the table, crossing her arms over her chest. Her hands rested on the coziest fabric known to man, softer than a baby’s blanket and just as comforting. “I can admit the man is good looking. I’ll also admit that it was sweet of him to offer to help. But beyond that, it doesn’t matter what I think because, at most, the furthest I’d ever allow something to go between us is friendship. I mean, I hardly know him.”

“Then get to know him. Because I’ve known him for a few weeks now, and I think he’s one of the good ones.”

Lucy wanted to believe her cousin. Actually, she wanted to believe her own opinions about people. But what was that saying about fooling me once and then twice? It didn’t even go far enough to tell what happened if someone was fooled three times. No one was that naïve—except Lucy, if she’d let herself trust her gut ever again. And there was little chance of that happening.

Stella grabbed her purse, hanging it off her shoulder, and rose from the table. “I know I said that about Chad, and I’m so sorry that he hurt you—”

“He didn’t hurt me.”Only my pride.

“I know you have no reason to trust me or my sage advice.” A soft chuckle escaped both their lips. “But what if you had never tried one of those decadent pumpkin rolls? What if you had assumed what they tasted like, that you wouldn’t like them, and then never even tried one? Look what you’d be missing out on.”

“Pastries aren’t people,” she said in a mumble, which her mother would have chastised her for, seeing as her mouth was filled with the spiced treat. She swallowed and took a sip of her coffee to wash it down. “Though, you might have a point. Maybe this pumpkin roll could be my soulmate.”

“Not the point I was making.” They both laughed. “I know putting yourself out there hasn’t always been the easiest.”

“And how sad is that?” Through Lucy’s whole life, her parents had told her what to think, how to act. They reminded her that very few people could be trusted and that danger was all around. Maybe it had something to do with her mother getting mugged in town one of the few times they’d ventured from the farm. Or perhaps it was the time they went on a real vacation and a sweet old lady had offered Lucy awelcome to the resortnecklace, only to grab her wrist and demand money for what Lucy thought was a token of hospitality. But did that really warrant them not letting her date until college? The only way she’d gotten away with that was because she’d moved to another town—though still in state—and gave it a go on her own.

Danger is everywhere, Lucy.

The words reverberated in her head, just like they always had, and she’d never been able to knock them out. Had her parents been right all along? If the past couple of years were any sign, she certainly was a horrible judge of character.

“The saddest thing would be to let the words of others keep you from being happy.”

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