The Hardest Fight. Amy Vastine

The Hardest Fight - Amy Vastine


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in my skull. And no, he cannot read minds. He pays attention. That’s it. He heard her Southern accent. He noticed her showing off her ring to someone else. He probably just guessed based on her age that she’s a student. He can’t read my mind or anyone else’s.”

      “Actually, she has a DePaul lanyard sticking out of her back pocket. That’s how I knew. I didn’t guess. I rarely guess.” The way he glared at her made Lucy’s cheeks flush.

      “Of course. I should have figured you got a good look at her backside.”

      “Excuse me?” Dylan’s voice rose slightly.

      “Oh, please. You always notice a beautiful woman’s assets.”

      “I think all men appreciate a beautiful woman. You make me sound like some sort of creep.”

      The heat of her anger warmed Lucy’s whole body. She didn’t even care about his stupid mind tricks. Five years of built-up feelings were hitting her all at once. He had let her leave him. He would have left her when he found out she would be permanently scarred. He never would have wanted to be with someone whose curves weren’t real.

      She did her best to tamp her emotions back down. “If the shoe fits...”

      Eugene cleared his throat and Lucy noticed the other diners in their section of the restaurant were gaping at her.

      “I was told no one was going to get us thrown out of here,” Eugene said. “If you two can’t be civil, that’s exactly what will happen.”

      Lucy and Dylan each took a deep breath and kept their mouths shut so no more words could sneak out. This was a huge mistake. Thinking they could spend an amicable lunch together was laughable. Lucy was about to get up and leave when the food arrived. Eating would thankfully keep their mouths busy.

      All conversation ceased at their small, square table. Eugene let Paige know her noodle recommendation was a good one, but that was pretty much all anyone said until it was time to go. Dylan pulled out his wallet to pay the bill.

      “Put that away,” Paige said, reaching for her purse. “I lost the bet. Lunch is on me.”

      “It’s fine. I didn’t really read her mind. It was all simple observation, like Lucy said.”

      “The bet wasn’t about whether or not you could read minds, it was about whether or not you were right. You were definitely right. Lunch is on me,” Paige insisted.

      Dylan stole a glance in Lucy’s direction. He was probably afraid of being verbally assaulted if he let Paige pay. With a full belly and some self-reflection, Lucy could admit she had been harder on him than he deserved. Eugene must think she was crazy.

      “How about you all let me pay? I’m the one who ruined everyone’s lunch.” She had also made it clear to Dylan that he was affecting her more than she wanted him to know. She pulled out some cash and slipped it in the bill folder. “Tell our waitress to keep the change. I’m going to head home to finish some work.”

      Paige and Eugene thanked her and offered her a goodbye. Dylan said nothing. She was halfway out the door when she felt someone grip her arm.

      “Hang on a second.” Dylan let her go the moment she stopped moving. “I just want to be clear about something.” His jaw was tense but his eyes were soft. “I don’t know why you dislike me so much, but this isn’t about us.”

      The way he said “us” made Lucy’s stomach flip. There hadn’t been an “us” in a very long time. There would never be an “us” again.

      “I know. It’s about Open Arms and Safe Haven. Two things I care about. Two things that I won’t give up.”

      Dylan looked as though she had punched him in the gut. His hurt expression quickly changed to one full of nothing but exasperation. He leaned in close and seemed to be trying hard to keep his voice calm. “Well, I want you to know that I’m not giving up, either. Maybe it’s your turn to find out what it’s like to lose something you care about.”

      He disappeared back into the restaurant, leaving Lucy without an opportunity to have the last word. She knew better than anyone what it was like to lose. Where were his sense of passion and willingness to fight for what he wanted five years ago? He seemed to care more about this real estate deal than he’d ever cared about her.

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