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Luke took three long strides to reach the front door He leaned around the jamb. “You’re fired.”
“Fine,” she yelled back. “You’re a pain in the butt to work for, anyway.”
He grinned as he shut the door.
“That’s funny?” Ariel asked.
“She either quits or I fire her once a week.”
“But she doesn’t leave, and you don’t replace her, right?”
“She’s engaged to my cousin. Where should I put my gear?”
Ariel blinked at the quick change of subject. She picked up the suit bag and led the way to the guest room. “What did Marguerite mean about not climbing my stairs?”
“Nothin’ for you to worry about. My knee’s been a little tender, that’s all. I’m tryin’ to rest it. Hadn’t counted on your being up a flight.”
She glanced at his legs, but didn’t see anything unusual. No sign of a knee brace, no excess bulk from being wrapped. His jeans fit him from hips to ankles nicely. Very nicely, indeed.
He filled up the room, Ariel thought as she hung his bag in the closet. An average-size room to start with, it suddenly seemed tiny now, the queen-size bed too small for his frame, the quilt too dainty, the curtains too frilly. It wasn’t that he was so big, actually. Although in comparison to herself, he was. He was just so...so much a man. One who was a little overbearing—well, maybe more than a little. And extremely appealing.
“Are you hungry?” she asked into the quiet that had settled between them. She didn’t want to feel so comfortable with him.
“If you’d share a pot of tea with me, I’d be obliged.”
“I never figured you for a tea drinker, Lucas. Coffee, black. Whiskey, straight. Steak, rare. That’s what I would have expected.”
“You got the rest of it right. Don’t care much for coffee, though. Why don’t I unpack, then I’ll join you.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, Ariel?”
She turned in the doorway.
“This is a real nice place you’ve got here.”
“Thanks. The view was the deciding factor for me. On a clear day, you can see the world from my front window. Well, at least a good portion of San Francisco Bay.”
Ten minutes later, he wandered into her kitchen and leaned against a counter. He’d exchanged his rain-soaked clothes for sweatpants, a T-shirt and socks. “I take it you were worried when I didn’t show on time,” he said.
“A little bit.”
“It does my heart good to hear that, Ariel. Real good.”
She poured a mug for each of them, not meeting his gaze. “I was afraid I’d have to find someone to take over all the jobs I’ve volunteered you to do.”
He chuckled. “Afraid you might spoil me if you ever let a compliment cross your lips?”
“Too late for that. You were ruined long before I met you.” They moved into the living room and sat on the sofa, one at each end. “I am in your debt, however, for what you’ve done for the Center.”
“I’m glad I could help.” Luke tried to get a handle on her mood. Except for her opening salvo when he’d first arrived, her insults weren’t being delivered with much punch, as if she felt the need to get them out, but not engage in any bantering with him. “What’s got you quiet as a cloud? Thinkin’ up some new insult?”
She smiled slightly. “Actually, the quiet part you should take as a compliment. I’m tired. I generally hide that from most people.”
She did look tired, now that he looked more closely. “Anything I can do?”
“I’ll put you to work tomorrow. Sam and Marguerite, too, I guess. I’m assuming they’re here to help.”
“I promised the board of directors at the Center that we’d oversee the finances of this event. I want to make sure there’s a profit, not just the break-even goal you said would satisfy you.”
“No one told me that”
“Are you on the board?”
“No. I’m an angel, though. And this event was my idea.”
“Well, now, I’d say your golden hair might lead some people to think you’re wearin’ a halo, but I’ll bet Saint Peter’s gonna give you grief at the Pearly Gates. He’ll have seen the way you treat me.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Benefactors are called angels. I’m on the board of the Angel Foundation, which contributes regularly to the Center.”
“I’m curious about that, Ariel. How do you support yourself? As far as I’ve been able to determine, you’re not employed.”
“Interest.” She tucked her feet under her and cupped the mug more closely.
“Interest?”
“On investments. People don’t volunteer time the way they used to. I can afford to.”
“You’ve got an MBA from Stanford, but you don’t put it to work. Why’s that?”
“Who says I don’t put it to work?” She lifted the mug again, then lowered it to her lap. “How’d you know that, anyway?”
“Part of my investigation into the Center. I checked out everyone. We had so little time, we hired a PI.” He tapped his fingers against his mug. “Funny thing. He didn’t find any record of you before you enrolled at Stanford.”
She took a quick sip of tea. “Why would that matter?”
“Professionally? For no reason. But personally? I was curious.”
“What’d you expect to find?”
“Perfect attendance in elementary school? A driver’s license issued on your sixteenth birthday? I don’t know. A past. Apart from learnin’ you’re twenty-seven years old, you’re Stanford educated, you’ve lived at this address for three years, and you donate your time to a lot of worthy causes, I don’t know anything about you.”
“There’s nothing mysterious about it. I told you I grew up in Europe.”
He noted that wariness had combined with weariness to darken her eyes. “And you said you were tired Me, too. Let’s go to bed, darlin’.” He took her empty mug and stood. “Now, don’t you go lookin’ at me like that. I wasn’t bein’ suggestive. I have nothin’ but the utmost respect for you. I can’t help it if you’ve got a dirty mind”
He returned from the kitchen just as she levered herself up from the couch. She shook her head.
“You’re incorrigible, Lucas.”
“Well, see, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m putty in your hands, just waitin’ to be molded. So, what time do we get started in the morning?”
They walked across the living room. “I have to be at the senior citizens center at eight. You probably have friends or teammates you want to see, so feel free to do whatever you want until ten, then we should get over to the youth center.”
“I don’t think my hangin’ around with the Dusters is a good idea. I’ll tag along with you, instead.”
“You’ll probably be pretty bored.”
“I doubt that.” He pushed her hair back from her face; his fingertips grazed her temple.
Oh, hell. She was begging to be kissed. He could see it in the dark pull of her eyes and the way her lips parted He stopped a sigh from escaping by pressing his lips to her forehead. “Sleep tight, darlin’.”
She laid her hands flat against his chest and leaned into him. He didn’t seem to have a choice other than to wrap his arms around her. He heard her sigh. He felt her nestle, her cheek rubbing his shoulder. Damned if she didn’t feel good there, all cuddly and subdued Wifely
A moment later she pushed herself away. “I’m glad you made it here safely,” she said, her words bright and cheery again. “Good night.”
Intrigued by her changing mood, he half smiled and rubbed his jaw as she shut her door. “Good night?” He wondered
Ariel dragged a towel along her throat, across her chest, down one arm, then the other. Her sweat-dampened pajama top lay discarded on the bed beside her. Her gaze flickered to the clock. Two-thirty. Her hand shook as she lifted the glass of water from her nightstand and gulped it down, not coming up for air until the glass was drained. She gasped a breath, managed to set down the glass, then blotted her face with the towel.
She wondered if she’d screamed. Probably not or Luke would have rushed in. She lay back and stared at the ceiling. Her skin tightened into a mass of goose bumps from nightmare sweat and winter cold.
She hadn’t had the dream in so long. So very long.
And she knew exactly what had triggered its return.
She raised herself on her elbows, needing to get a fresh pair of pajamas, but her body wouldn’t cooperate further. If Luke hadn’t been there she would have washed away the terror with a long, hot shower. He was there, however, separated from her only by a communal bathroom and two closed doors.
Part of her wanted to crawl in bed with him, beg his sympathy, find oblivion in making love until she couldn’t think another thought. Until she couldn’t picture anything but an imaginary field of flowers misted by a spring shower—anything other than what she’d just seen again in the dreams she’d thought were long gone.
It hadn’t worked before, though, so why should it this time? If anything, it would probably be worse, because of who and what Lucas Walker was. Would always be. She had no fantasies about him changing. Part of his charm, albeit questionable sometimes, was his unapologetic belief in himself. It’s true he was searching to find a new place in the world now, but nothing stood in the way of his accomplishing that goal. He would have a normal life. She didn’t doubt it for a minute.
Oh, for the comfort that would bring.
“I hand each person a card as they pass by?” Luke asked, shuffling the stack Ariel had just handed him.
“That’s right. Every time they arrive back at the information table you give them another one. That way they keep track of the number of laps they’ve gone, around the Center’s walking course.”
Luke rubbed his jaw. “They can’t remember?”
“Shh” She looked around. She’d chosen a job for him that would keep him busy while she attended to other business at the senior citizens center. “No, they can’t always remember. They get busy talking and forget.”
“Does it even matter?”
“They have goals they set for themselves, Lucas. They want to know if they’ve reached or exceeded them.” She watched him take note of the people milling around, dressed mostly in jogging suits.
“Some of them aren’t wearing shoes with enough support,” he noted.
“Care to make a donation?” she asked sweetly.
“I might.” He cupped her chin and looked hard at her. “I don’t believe you caught up on sleep last night.”
“You snored. The noise kept me awake.”
He let his hand drop. “I do not snore.”
“Is that a confirmed fact?”
“Curious about my love life, darlin’? A man who’s been engaged twice in this modern age would’ve been told, don’t you think?”
“Good morning, Ariel. Is that a new boyfriend?”
Ariel turned her head by measurable degrees, too stunned by Luke’s announcement to focus on the woman who’d approached. Twice? He’d almost been married twice? Well, now, didn’t that bit of news put a whole new twist on things. “Um. Oh, uh, Emma, good morning. No, he’s not my boyfriend, new or otherwise. This is Luke Walker. He’s the president of Titan Athletic Shoes.”
“Titan. Just Titan, now,” he said, holding out a hand to the frail, stooped woman. “We’re branching out. Not just shoes anymore.”
“My grandsons like your shoes, young man.”
“I’m glad to hear—”
“Status symbols,” Emma announced, then clucked her tongue and wagged her head. “Skewing all the kids’ concept about what’s important. In my day, we knew the value of a dollar. Didn’t waste ’em on high-priced footwear when something practical would do. Had hand-me-downs most of the time, too.”
“Emma! Yoo-hoo, Emma!”
She flitted away to greet her newly arrived friend.
“Well. I guess she put me in my place,” Luke said, bemusement on his face.
“They speak their minds. It’s one of the things I love about them all. Okay, Lucas, you need to take your place. They’ve started their warm-up stretches.”
Ariel checked on him every so often. Each time, he was smiling more, flirting more. The ladies batted their eyes at him. The men jabbed back in imaginary boxing matches. Only Emma seemed immune, turning her nose up at his efforts.
When Ariel had finished arranging meal deliveries for the Center’s housebound members, she joined Luke. The daily walking had ended. He’d pulled up a chair at a round table with a few people, not talking, but listening to them. Intently.
She came up behind him and laid her hand on his shoulder, alerting him that she was there.
Luke pushed back his chair and stood. “Miz Emma, now don’t you go charmin’ anyone else the way you did me today. I swear, you wouldn’t be able to keep ’em all at bay.”
“Don’t get smart with me, young man”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll take into consideration everything you had to say. I appreciate your honesty.”
Flustered, Emma fumbled with her knitting. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
Luke settled into the driver’s seat of Ariel’s car a few minutes later. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulled away from the curb.
“Don’t mind Emma,” Ariel said, glancing his way. “She’s a chronic complainer.”
