Page 28 of Where Are You Now
“Yeah, I find it sucks the work ethic right out of you.” She handed him a glass.
The corner of his mouth lifted, his gaze remaining on the glistening water. He peered down at the wine, his brows pulling together in that adorable way of his. “I’m driving.”
“It’s just the one. You don’t have to finish it. And Mom is sure to fill you to the brim with food, so you’ll be okay.”
He offered a small smile then tipped the glass and took a drink.
She’d need to work him up to fishing—that much was clear. “Want to sit down? I could bring the cheese and crackers over by the firepit, and we can light a fire.”
His lips parted, but he didn’t speak.
She gripped her glass and worked up her courage. “I don’t know if I said something to upset you, and it’s been half our lives since I’ve seen you, but the boy I knew didn’t run away from things that bothered him. Nothing scared you off.”
His lips tightened before he took another drink from his glass.
“Remember how you took on that copperhead in the woods when we were in eighth grade? I ran to the nearest tree, ready to spend the day up there, and you grabbed your dad’s shovel and chopped its head off. Still barbaric, if you ask me.”
A whisp of happiness fluttered through her when she got another tiny smile.
“Yeah, well, I’m not the same person I was then.” He turned away from the water.
“I’m not the same person either.”
He gave her a nod. “Need some help lighting the firepit?” he asked, evidently leaving the subject.
She’d let him for now.
“I somehow seem to get soot on me every time, so you better not ruin your shirt,” she said.
Lucas brought over the plate of cheese and crackers while Ava pulled off the wire topper and lit the fire with a pack of matches still there from when her mother had last lit it. The orange flame popped and caught hold of the logs.
She clapped the soot off her hands and rubbed them on her jeans for good measure as she sat down beside him. Lucas set the plate of snacks on the small table between them, then unbuttoned his pressed shirt sleeves and rolled them up.
“I never pegged you for a suit-wearing kind of guy when we were growing up. I always thought you’d do something outside. Be a farmer or a wildlife biologist. Or both.” She topped a cracker with cheese and took a bite.
By the minuscule flinch he seemed to have tried to hide, she’d hit a nerve. She hadn’t meant to.
“Like I said. Things changed.”
She took a drink from her glass, the cool crispness of the wine the perfect complement to the sunny day by the water. “What was North Carolina like?” She pushed the plate toward him.
“Different. We moved to a suburb, and all the kids wore shoes every day. Bizarre.”
“You made a little joke.” She wrinkled her nose playfully at him. “That’s the boy I knew. He’s still in there.”
Amusement flickered in his eyes, but then the cloud returned.
“I learned to wear shoes too,” she said. “Bare feet are frowned upon in Manhattan. Especially if you have to go into the office.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “So you work in an office?” he asked.
“Yeah. I work at a marketing firm in midtown.”
“That’s high-rent territory. It must be a pretty big firm.”
“Yeah.”
“I could see you doing marketing. Just enough creativity and all the numbers.” He took a cracker and popped it into his mouth.
