“Home,” she repeats softly, testing the word.
I nod. “Am I allowed to visit this above-the-garage apartment of yours, or is it strictly a no-lumberjack zone?”
“I’ll think about it.” Lucy laughs. “What about you? What’s your living situation? Give me a visual.”
Do I tell her the truth: that my living situation is a McMansion perched in the hills? Or do I dial it down to something less ... obnoxious? Something that doesn’t screamI have way, way too much money and no clue what to do with it?
“Shit.” The word slips out before I can stop it, and Lucy eagle-eyes me curiously.
“That bad, huh?” she teases, tucking her legs under herself like she’s settling in for a bedtime story. “Come on, don’t hold out on me. I gave you my above-the-garage confession—what’s yours?”
I rub the back of my neck, stalling. “It’s not bad. Just not small-town relatable.”
“Pfft.” Her brows lift in challenge. “Try me.”
There’s no way to explain this without sounding like a total tool, so I blurt out: “All right: a sprawling modern house. Too many rooms for one person. A kitchen I barely use with ridiculously expensive appliances. A pool I didn’t want taking up the entire backyard but somehow ended up with.”
Her eyes narrow, like she’s trying to gauge if I’m screwing with her or not. “Apool?”
“Yep. And not just any pool. It’s heated. With an infinity edge.”
Her jaw drops, but instead of the awe I was bracing for, she busts out laughing. Full-on, head-tilted-back, bellyaching laughter.
“Oh my God,” she gasps. “For a second, I thought you were serious. You live in a mansion with an infinity pool? That’s hilarious.”
I am stunned into silence by her mirth.
“That is a good one, Harris,” she continues. “Seriously, you should’ve led with something even more ridiculous. Like telling me you have a private bowling alley or a helicopter pad.”
Well, I personally don’t—but several of my good friends do. One of the guys who attends her yoga class, as a matter of fact.
“Right,” I manage, trying not to let my ego deflate entirely. “Totallyjoking.”
Ha ha.
She wipes at a tear in the corner of her eye. “Infinity pool. You are too much.”
I force a laugh, deciding it’s better if she thinks I’m kidding. Now is not the time to argue—that would make things awkward—and besides: I’m pretending to be an actor pretending to be a lumberjack, hired help for Lake Loon Days or whatever the hell the jingle jamboree is called.
Lucy leans back into the couch, still chuckling to herself, completely oblivious to the reality she laughed right over.
Maybe it’s for the best.
Because the second she finds out the truth about me, it could very well come back and bite me in the ass and change the way she views me.
Chapter 13
Lucy
Plot twist: I did not spend the night with Harris.
I did not pass go as much as I may have wanted to.
Baby steps, Lucy.
I don’t care that he’s only in town for a few days.
I.
