Page 59 of You Found Me
“No.”
“What kind of childhood did you have?” She gave him a look filled with judgment before relenting. “Hi. I’m Lucy Carmichael, from Thousand Oaks, California. I’m an aspiring actress with”—she glanced down—“really rough fashion sense.”
“Failedactress. Your last audition went so badly, you decided to give it up and rethink your career.”
“Why would anybody give up after one bad audition?” She sounded scandalized. “Lucy wouldn’t do that. Lucille Ball kept going no matter what crazy thing happened.”
“This isn’t a TV sitcom.”
“You should have thought about that before you named me Lucy Carmichael.”
“Why are you here in Wires Crossing,Lucy?”
“Because my warden wants to protect me like a dragon protects a shiny diamond. You know, by burying it.”
“We don’t have time for games.”
“Do you even know any games?”
“Focus. Please.”
“I mean it. This is the kind of thing a girlfriend would know, isn’t it? What was your favorite game growing up? I bet it was something war related.”
“Lucy.”
“Ward.” She frowned and shook her head. “I can’t call you that. If I’m supposed to be your girlfriend, I can’t call you by your last name.”
“Call me Donovan.” It sounded strange to his own ears, but it was the right call. The only people who called him that were his close family. A girlfriend was family.
“Donovan.” She said it with a heavy dose of disapproval. “It’s too stiff. Too formal. Then again, I suppose that suits you, but wouldn’t a girlfriend have a cute nickname for her boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Yes, she would. You know she would. Lucy would definitely have a nickname for her boyfriend. Something like snookums or honey bear.”
“Hell no.” His jaw was starting to ache from all the clenching he’d done over the past few hours. “It’s Ward or Donovan. Period.”
“Donny?”
“Not even if you’ve been taken by aliens.” This drive was never going to end. “Can we continue with the backstory? Please?”
“Fine. But I’mnota failed actress. I’m just here to regroup. I haven’t given up yet. I’m…centering myself. Actresses do that, right? Mattie does it all the time.”
It wouldn’t kill him to let her have her way on this. Anything to get her off the nickname topic. “Fine. When did we meet and where?”
“We met in a bar six months ago. The Blue Lagoon. It’s down the street from a small theater where I had a bit part as an understudy.”
“What play?”
“Birth of a Salesman.”
“Death,” he corrected.
“Whatever. Anyway, we hit it off and started dating. We’ve been hot-and-heavy ever since.” She patted his leg. “I think you’re stubborn, way too serious, and kinda stiff around the edges, but underneath you’re a gooey mess.”
He blinked, both at the touch of her hand and the last thing she’d said. “I’m a what?”
“Gooey. Mess.” She tapped his thigh on each word, leaving him hyperaware of her touch. “I’m pretty sure that stoic act is just a coating to protect the soft, chewy center. It better be, anyway, if I’m supposed to be your girlfriend. I mean, who would put up with you if you were just…you.”