LUNA
If you'd told me last week that I'd be having dinner at Fire Chief Stone’s house this Sunday, I would have laughed at the impossibility of it and still been frightened by the prospect.
Add this to the list of fears I'm confronting just to spend time with Lucas...
I'm sitting across from Chief Stone at his dining-room table. The sun is setting on his cabin in the woods, replaced by light from an old chandelier and a dozen candles his wife lit. The idea of a fireman allowing fire in his home tickles me.
Lucas’s gruff older brother sits like a man made of stone, clearly perturbed by the unexpected company.
His wife, however, is a ray of sunshine.
"We’re so happy you're joining us, Luna," Ana says as she piles up the table with ribs, potato salad, cucumber salad, some other regular salad, and three pitchers of various teas. "Aren't we, Brock?"
She's not shy about bopping her husband on the head with her spoon as she takes her seat. I've met Ana before; she worked the summer camp at the lake before she married the chief, and she'd bring the kids into the library sometimes. I recall her having a fascination with bugs.
Chief Stone clears his throat, sits up straight, and curtly nods. "Thank you for coming. Eat."
Lucas, sitting next to his older brother, holds his hand up to hide his lips. He mouths, I told you...
We share a silent laugh before loading up our plates. Under the table, he nudges my leg with his foot, making me blush. Admittedly, the image of Lucas climbing with his shirt off has been on my mind all day.
It’s hard to stop my thighs from rubbing together with him sitting there playing footsies with me…
"Thank you for having me," I finally say. "You have a lovely home."
Ana thanks me and beams.
Chief Stone grunts and chugs his iced tea.
"So, Luna, how's the library treating you?" Ana asks. I'm pretty sure she kicks her husband’s knee under the table.
Chief Stone looks at his wife, sighs, and bores into me with his steely gaze. "Yeah, how are the books?"
Now that Lucas and his brother are right next to each other, I can see just how different they are. Lucas is wild-eyed, handsomely unkempt, and always has this look on his face like he's about to sprout wings and soar off into the horizon.
Brock Stone looks like a bearded boulder with a buzz cut.
"The books are good," I say. "Well, some are good, some are bad. Such is the nature of literature."
Lucas smiles brightly.
His brother stares at me like I just randomly read him a passage from The Da Vinci Code.
"Not a bad job. Librarian," the chief says as if I made some comment about the quality of my career. "Stable. Regular hours. Critical to the community." He glances to the left at his younger brother. "You sure she's your type? Sounds like she has a 401(k) and everything."
This time, Ana does kick him under the table.
Lucas just laughs, digging into his ribs and letting the sauce soak his fingers.
I shrug and smile at Lucas. "I do have a 401(k)."
"That's hot." He leans over the table and pretends to whisper, "I have almost twenty-thousand dollars worth of climbing equipment. Accrued over fifteen years. Some of it is even hand-me-down…"
Ana's giggling with a bunch of potato salad in her mouth, but I can tell Brock is annoyed. So, of course, I play along. I don’t know what it is about Lucas that makes me feel brave, but I’m addicted to it.
"Seriously?" I fan myself dramatically. "Lucas... not in front of your family."
The table quakes as Chief Stone brings his glass down with a little too much force. "You can do anything, and all you want to do is climb shit. You’re thirty-eight, Lucas. When are you going to work? It’s not too late to join the academy."
Lucas rolls his eyes. “Here we go.”
“I’m serious. Being a fireman is a real job. The benefits are killer. And, I’ll give you one thing, you’re in damn-good shape. You’d have no problem making it through training. You’d probably smoke most of the younger guys.”
“Do firemen smoke each other?” Lucas seems undisturbed by his brother’s nagging. He shrugs and pours me more tea. "I got lots of jobs: guiding, teaching beginners’ courses, and my winnings from competitions."
"None of that is work . You just make enough money to fund your next expedition."
"What else should I be spending money on?"
"A house. Retirement." Brock gestures to their home as if the answer is obvious. " Family. Luna has it together. She has a job. You think this girl wants to date an adventure bum?"
Ana slams her palm on the table. "Brock!"
We all sit in silence.
Her scolding is enough to rein the man in.
Lucas doesn't look at anyone but me. He winks, but it’s forced. When he told me his brother was always riding him, I had no idea it was this bad.
"No wonder you don't visit."
A stunned smile spreads over Lucas’s face.
My lips keep moving on their own accord, tethered to some courageous part of my brain that finally woke up the moment we sat down on the floor of the library.
"I wouldn't either. Why visit somebody who's just going to berate you about your life choices?
Especially when you're one of the happiest, most carefree people I've ever met, and this guy—" I gesture to his older brother—"is the town asshole. I appreciate your hospitality, Chief Stone. But don’t ever assume you speak for me. "
Brock doesn't budge. Like the boulder he is, he buffets the storm of my wrath, showing only the most minor crack in the twitch of his eye. But it's there—I did that. I can barely believe the words that jumped from my lips.
Next to me, Ana bursts into laughter.
Finally, I remember to breathe. My hands are shaking in my lap.
Brock calmly pours himself more tea and raises his glass to me. "Duly noted. My apologies."
Under the veil of the tablecloth, I slip off my sandal and slide my foot right into Lucas's lap. Something stiff and long waits for me there, and I don't even blush as I gently rub it with my toes.
Lucas sits back and sighs, clearly happy that he invited me to dinner. "Yeah, brother. I'm sure she's my type."
It's Monday morning, and I've never turned the lights on in the library so early. I don't open up for another hour, but something tells me Lucas will be here promptly for his lessons.
After sticking up for him last night, I feel like I can do anything.
I'm riding as high as I would've been if I had finished the climb up that boulder (maybe, I don’t want to think about being up so high).
I woke up early, sang loudly while I curled my hair and put on my makeup, and donned my cutest blood-red skirt, black heels, and brown top with a black belt.
Monday mornings are usually granted the least amount of effort, but I want to look my best for him. I want to be everything he wants.
My roommate said I’m glowing like I just got laid.
Not yet, Tiffany.
Sure enough, Lucas arrives thirty minutes before the library officially opens. He's knocking on the glass, balancing two cups of coffee while he does a silly dance in his jeans and flannel. I swear, this man has the energy of a teenager—Ellie would love him.
"Is ‘ morning, beautiful’ too strong a greeting for our third date?" he asks as I let him in.
"Most third dates aren't in libraries. Plus, you brought me coffee. I give you a pass."
We share an awkward little kiss and both laugh.
"Come on, Casanova." I take him by the arm. "Let me show you my world."
Miraculously, Lucas seems enthralled by the boring details of a librarian’s duties. Maybe he's just pretending. If he is, I appreciate that even more.
He follows me around like an eager student as I show him how the genres are divided and organized, introduce him to the digital system, and share with him my worst overdue offenders—Mr. Johnson, you've had Dune checked out for two freaking years.
He asks questions and answers mine, and takes every opportunity to work innuendos into our conversation. Every time I hand him a book, he lingers his touch along my fingers. I know he’s stealing glances up my skirt when I step up the ladder to reach a high shelf… I want him to.
It's our third date.
We're both thinking the same thing even as we preoccupy ourselves with cataloging. I don't know when it's going to happen, but it's all I've been thinking about since I felt his hard cock beneath my toes.
The thought of him—his powerful body tangled in mine, his lips exploring every inch of me—has been simmering in my mind since the moment I first saw him.
Our fingers are resting on that tensioned passage in a smutty novel, tracing the words as they build to the scene we've all been waiting for. I'm afraid to turn the page. Before him, I would never consider sleeping with a guy I just met.
Right now, I’m wondering how I’ve held out this long…
In the middle of one of Lucas's smoldering glances, the bell at the front desk rings. We’re deep in the back of the library, shelving returned books in the languages sections.
"Duty calls," I say. "Keep cataloging this section. I'll check your work when I get back."
Lucas tucks his fingers into my belt, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me like we’re saying goodbye.
I moan softly, arms around his shoulders, heels barely on the floor.
"Don't stay gone too long," he whispers.
"Of course not. I don't trust you to do this entire section by yourself."
Lucas laughs and playfully shoves me along. It's much harder than I care to admit to leave the aisle and do my job. I straighten out my skirt, adjust my shirt so my nipples aren’t so apparent, and take a few deep breaths before I attend to old Mrs. Vasquez at the counter.
God, I'm so ready to turn that page. Three o’clock can't come a moment too soon.