Chapter 12
1041 Words
That afternoon, Drake finally said his goodbyes to Leandro. Relief washed over him as he stepped toward the car, relief that lasted all of five seconds.
Because Lucy trailed him right to the car door, her grin wide enough to eclipse the sun.
“Drakey, don’t forget our date, okay?” she sang, her voice bright as church bells. “It’s this Saturday. You know my number, right? Text me if you start missing me. I don’t mind being your text mate. Or call mate. Or both.”
Drake paused, fixing her with a sharp look, but chose not to answer. He slid into the car, shut the door, and inhaled the silence like oxygen.
“Bye, Drakey! Travel safe! Remember, you’re going to marry me. I’ll say my sweet ‘yes,’ and then we’ll have so many ch—”
The engine drowned her out as the car rolled forward.
Drake leaned against the seat, shutting his eyes, savoring the sudden peace. “Finally,” he muttered. “My eardrums might just heal.”
Beside him, Don Lucio chuckled, eyes crinkling with mirth. “She looks adorable, hijo. Sweet and spirited.”
“Adorable? She’s a human megaphone, Grandfather. I’m grateful we’re leaving before she finishes her sentence. Any longer and I’d need hearing aids.”
Don Lucio laughed, shaking his head. “But her energy is unique. Lively. When she talks, doesn’t she make the world feel less heavy? Admit it. She fills your day with laughter.”
Drake pressed his lips together, unwilling to give his grandfather the satisfaction of a response. His thoughts betrayed him, however—images of her ridiculous grin, her sharp comebacks, the way she looked straight at him without fear.
He shoved the thoughts aside. That couldn't be her. She is not the one.
The date? Just a nuisance. Once he’d endure for her peace of mind. Afterward, he’d return to his usual, orderly life. That was the plan.
Meanwhile, back in the yard, Lucy stood watching the car disappear, her grin stretching ear to ear. She felt as though she were floating, her whole body light, giddy.
“Drakey,” she whispered to the empty road, “you’ll be mine.”
Her private reverie was broken by the sound of laughter behind her. She turned, and nearly jumped. Momsie and Papsie were both standing there, arms crossed, watching her like she’d grown two heads.
“Have you been possessed, child?” Momsie asked dryly.
Lucy clasped her chest dramatically. “Momsie, I think I’m in love. I’ve finally found the one destined for me.”
Papsie snorted. “You’re hallucinating again. Come, let’s go home before your delusions grow wings.”
Lucy rolled her eyes and marched ahead of them, still floating in her daydream. So distracted was she, she didn’t notice the small stone in her path.
Her foot caught. She pitched forward.
“Ahhh! My goodness, pink!” she shrieked, tumbling to the ground. Pain flared in her knee, and she gasped at the sight of a thin trickle of blood.
Her face drained of color.
Blood.
Her phobia since childhood. Whenever she saw it, her brain conjured the old story of the priest with the severed head, chasing her through shadows. Her heart pounded, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Momsie! Papsie! There’s blood!” she wailed, her voice cracking.
Her parents stopped short, then burst out laughing.
“It’s just a scrape,” Momsie said, shaking her head. “Your screams sound like a pig at the slaughterhouse.”
Lucy whimpered, clutching her leg. “I-I’m going to die!”
“You’re overreacting. A toddler would take this better. Stand up. We’ll treat it at home,” Papsie said.
“No! Call an ambulance! I’m going to die without even having my date with Drakey! Momsie, I can’t die a virgin!” she sobbed.
Her parents exchanged a look—half pity, half amusement. Then, each took an arm and lifted her to her feet.
“This,” Papsie muttered, “is what happens when our child falls in love. She loses all her senses.”
Momsie rolled her eyes. “She’s been out of her mind since birth, Mauricio.”
Lucy scowled. Both of them! Ganging up on me while I’m bleeding to death.
At home, Papsie retrieved the first-aid kit. Momsie crouched beside her with alcohol and cotton in hand.
The moment the alcohol touched her knee, Lucy screamed like she was being tortured.
“Don’t shout,” Momsie scolded. “You’re a grown woman. Afraid of blood like a child.”
“Momsie! It stings! You’re killing me!”
“I’ll press harder if you keep whining,” Momsie threatened.
Lucy clamped her lips shut, squeezing her eyes as tears pricked them. She tilted her head back and groaned silently, as though enduring the weight of the world.
Finally, the wound was cleaned, bandaged, and she was released from her torment. She collapsed onto the couch, panting dramatically.
“I survived,” she whispered. “Now I can still see Drake. Our date lives on.”
Minutes later, her grin returned, stronger than ever. “Momsie, tomorrow I’m buying a dress for my date with Drake.”
Momsie flicked her forehead lightly. “There you go again. You look ridiculous around him.”
Lucy clasped her hands dreamily. “That’s how it is when Cupid strikes. My heart’s been pierced, Momsie... completely.”
Momsie sighed, but a smile tugged at her lips. “True. I felt the same when I fell for your Papsie.”
“See? That’s why you should support me. Imagine, your wish for a handsome son-in-law could come true!” Lucy clapped her hands, eyes gleaming.
Momsie chuckled. “Alright, you win. I’ll even call your godmother tomorrow, she’ll do your manicure and pedicure.”
Lucy gasped with delight. “Perfect! I’ll make sure Drake feels the sting of my charm. You know us Cordovas, fierce and unstoppable!” She giggled, high-fiving her mother.
Her confidence soared. The date would be her battlefield, and she’d unleash her full arsenal.
Drake Anderson would have no escape.
After all, what could resist the venom of a crazy, but divine, woman in love?
- Writer
