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Back To Luke
Kathryn Shay
Yet again Jayne Logan is running from a bad situation…and straight to Luke Corelli. Once, she chose her career over him. Boy, does she regret that decision, with her business now in shambles. Tell that to Luke, though. His my-way-or-the-highway personality means he's not exactly open to hearing she has regrets. Still, time hasn't changed the attraction between them.And the more they're together, the more Luke seems to want her. If they can get close enough, Jayne knows they'll have a second chance for a life together. She just has to stick around, and that could be the hardest thing she's done.
“Hello, Luke.”
Jayne cleared her throat and moved into the sunlight.
Every single muscle in Luke’s body seemed to stiffen. For a moment he simply stood there, staring up at her. Jayne forced herself to hold her ground, despite the flinty look in his eyes that made her shiver.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he finally said.
“Eleanor invited me to stay with her.”
“You can’t do that.”
Jayne squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Back off, Luke. I’m not as easily intimidated as I was when I knew you in New York.”
“You ran, Jayne. Like you’ve been running all your life.” Luke made a sound of disgust. “And I never knew you, lady. Never.” With that he stalked away.
Dear Reader,
When I plan out a novel, I always think about the themes. Back to Luke deals with two primary themes: making mistakes then living with them, and what happens in a relationship when trust is betrayed?
Jayne Logan and Luke Corelli are flawed characters, which I like about them. Some bad things have happened to them and both have made one big mistake in their lives. They have to live with what they’ve done and promise to do better. Of course, they slip up.
Then there’s the issue of trust. We all want to trust the people we love. And sometimes others don’t live up to the faith we’ve put in them. Do I think we can regain another person’s trust after betraying it? Yes. Do I think it’s easy? No. Luke and Jayne find this out. Not only have they let each other down, but one of them does what he’s promised he’ll never do. To me, this situation is the epitome of trust. I’ve used it before, and when the betrayal occurs and the other person realizes what’s happened, I often cry myself. Trust is fragile and can be broken at any time. What we do afterward alters the relationship and maybe our lives.
As for Luke and Jayne, their bumpy road to happiness is similar to all of ours, and I hope you can relate to each of them. Rest assured, there is a happy ending.
Want to learn more about me and my work? Visit me at www.kathrynshay.com. There are book trailers and a blog I update frequently. You can also see the blog at www.livejournal.com/kathrynshay. And you can connect with me on MySpace, at www.myspace.com/kathrynshay. Or write to me at kshayweb@rochester.rr.com.
Happy reading,
Kathryn Shay
BACK TO LUKE
Kathryn Shay
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kathryn Shay is the author of twenty-four Harlequin Superromance books and nine novels and two novellas from the Berkley Publishing Group. She has won several awards. Among them are five Romantic Times BOOKreviews awards, three Holt Medallions, three Desert Quill awards and a Booksellers’ Best Award. A former high school teacher, she lives in upstate New York, where she sets many of her stories.
To my good friend Eleanor Pierce, eighty-nine years young this month, who served as the model for the Eleanor in the book.
Thank you so much for all you’ve taught me and the time you’ve spent with me.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
JAYNE LOGAN WAS a desperate woman. As she stood at the edge of the rest area overlooking Riverdale, nestled in a valley in Upstate New York, she admitted the stark truth to herself—she had no place else to go. Where people cared about her, anyway. Her life was in shambles, her parents were completely unsupportive, as usual, and over the years she’d alienated most of the acquaintances she’d managed to make.
Except for Jess Harper, her best friend from college, the man who’d been her lifeline in good times and bad. Their estrangement hadn’t been her fault. She could still see him in front of his mother’s house, tears in his eyes, six years ago.
I’ll let you go, Jaynie. But only if you promise me one thing. If you ever need me, really need me, you’ll call or come to Riverdale.
Well, she thought, shaking her head, she really needed him now—enough to risk what could very well be a powder keg of reaction from his wife, even after all these years. Naomi Harper’s jealousy was the reason Jayne and Jess had cut off all ties and agreed not to see each other. At first they’d exchanged e-mails, then their contact had dwindled to cards at holiday time. In some ways, Jayne felt like she’d lost a limb when Jess and his mother, Eleanor, were no longer part of her life.
Pushing away memories of Naomi—they made her feel selfish for coming to town—Jayne got into the front seat of her rented Lexus and headed into Riverdale. Its population was about twenty thousand, but the place had the feel of a much smaller town. It hadn’t changed much, either, she thought as she drove along Route 17 and into the heart of the city bisected by the Chemung River, with its quaint streets, old-school architecture and the glass factory’s tall white tower. The edifice stood above the business area and blew its horn morning, noon and night, like a watchful parent guarding his children and calling them to work. Most of the townspeople had jobs in the factory or at headquarters, which she passed on the right. The beautiful black glass building rose up twenty stories, all sleek lines and interesting rounded corners.
Her heart began to thump in her chest as she turned off Sunset Boulevard and drove up Lexington Avenue, one of the many hills over which the population sprawled. She remembered when Jess had bought the big gray-shingled house on Second Street, near a park where his girls could play and surrounded by neighbors who had, of course, become his close friends. Everybody loved Jess and rightly so, given his generous nature and a sense of humor that could put anyone at ease.
Turning left, she pulled up to the curb and frowned. The house looked…shut down. She knew he still lived here. She’d gotten a Christmas card from him only four months ago. Damn it, she should have called. But she hadn’t forewarned her friend of her visit because she hadn’t been sure she’d actually come to Riverdale until she arrived.
Sliding out of her car, warmed by the April sun, Jayne took the concrete path to the sidewalk, climbed the first set of steps and the second. The front porch faced the entire valley and held a couple of lounge chairs; she noticed a small bike and a big-wheeled scooter tucked into the corner. They belonged to his girls. Suddenly, Jayne needed to see solid, family-man Jess more than ever.
She rang the doorbell. No one answered. The blinds were all closed and the house felt deserted. Because she was an architect, buildings were her best friends and she had a sixth sense about them.
“If you’re lookin’ for the Harpers, they aren’t home.”
Jayne turned to find a man on the sidewalk below. “Excuse me?”
“Jess and his family. They’re gone.” He smiled. “They went to Disney World. Naomi won the trip from the Glass Works. Needless to say, the kids were chompin’ at the bit to get there. Jess took them on their spring break from school.”
With a heavy heart, Jayne descended the two sets of steps, aware of the sounds of children playing in the yard next door and a lawn mower buzzing down the street.
The man had dark hair and eyes, and a kind smile. He held out a beefy hand. “Bill Parks. I went to high school with Jess. Now we’re neighbors.”
“Jayne Logan.” They shook. “Jess and I were in college together.”
His brow furrowed. “Did he know you were comin’?”
She shook her head. “I should have called.” Now what was she going to do?
“You know his mom, Eleanor?”
“Yes, very well, as a matter of fact.”
“She’s still livin’ up on Fifth Street. Might be nice for you to go see her. She’s probably lonely for Jess. They took the girls out of school early for a two-week trip.”
As she often did, Jayne wondered what it would be like to live in a small town and have everybody know your business.
“I’d love to see Eleanor.” She reached for her phone. “Oh, wait, I don’t have her number in my contacts list.”
“I think she uses her cell now.”
“Eleanor has a cell phone?” Jayne couldn’t picture the older woman with modern technology.
“Yeah, no grass grows under her feet. You know the address?”
Never would Jayne forget the house Eleanor lived in. A stately three-story structure, it sported slate-blue siding, black shutters and huge porches that wrapped around the back and sides. And there were those beautiful gardens. Eleanor had taught Jayne everything she knew about growing things, and Jayne had missed the flowers and digging in the dirt when she’d moved to California, where she only had time for work and sleep. “Yes, I know where Eleanor lives.”
The trip over to Chestnut Street and up to Fifth took only ten minutes. As she caught sight of the house, a rush of emotion flooded her. The place was as beautiful as ever, but something else caused her heart to swell and tears to spring to her eyes—memories of the time she’d spent here in Eleanor’s loving care, having in Jess the brother she’d always wanted. Since they’d both been only children, Jess had felt the same way about her.
She parked at the curb, exited the car and hurried up a walkway flanked by pink and purple crocuses and sunny daffodils. For a minute, she just stood in front of the double front oak doors and laid her hand on the smooth, cool wood. Then she pressed the bell.
No answer.
Damn it.
Again, she rang.
Still, no answer. But contrary to Jess’s house, this place was open and alive. Windows were raised on all three floors, allowing in the air, which in her mind had always meant the house was breathing in and out.
Maybe Eleanor was in the back, working in the gardens. She followed the brick path around to the rear and more of the flowers came into view, startling Jayne for a moment. So many colors. So many different varieties. Her favorites had always been the summer wildflowers, but Eleanor preferred the roses. Because it was April, other plants bloomed now. Jayne couldn’t remember all their names but did recognize the snapdragons and the purple and white irises. The blossoms filled the air with sweet perfume like nothing man could manufacture in a lab.
Eleanor wasn’t working on the beds, and though the shed door was ajar, Jayne didn’t see anyone inside. She glanced up at the back porch. The door to the kitchen was open to the screen. With more anticipation than she’d had for anything in a long time, she climbed the steps and called out, “Eleanor, are you in there?”
No one responded. Jayne put her hand on the knob and had pulled the screen open a few inches when she heard behind her, “Hey there, darlin’, what are you doing?”
The deep rumble of a male voice startled her and she jumped back as if she were breaking and entering. Her heart beating at a clip, she pivoted to find a man at the bottom of the steps. A big, half-naked man.
She was standing in the shadows, and he was in the bright sunlight, so it took a minute for her eyes to adjust. Oh, God, it was Luke Corelli! Someone she’d known a lifetime ago.
“Sorry, did I scare you?” His eyes narrowed. She couldn’t see their color, but she knew they were brown, deep and rich to match the mane of dark hair on his head and whorls of it on his bare chest. It was a chest that at one time she’d explored intimately. Her gaze dropped lower to the nicely corded muscles of his legs and work boots on his feet.
A chuckle. “Like what you see?” he asked.
Dear Lord, he didn’t recognize her. But why would he? She was a different woman, both physically and in personality, from the one he’d known twelve years ago when they’d both been twenty-six.
She cleared her throat and moved into the sunlight. “Hello, Luke.”
Every single muscle in his body stiffened. For a moment, he just stood there, staring up at her from the ground; then, slowly, he climbed the steps until they were on the same level. Jayne wanted to inch back but forced herself to hold her ground, despite the flinty look in his eyes that made her shiver. Trying to conceal her reaction, she threw back her shoulders and faced him down.
Finally, he said, “What the hell are you doing here?”
LUKE STARED at the woman standing before him. Dressed in a tailored beige suit, she was taller than he remembered and her demeanor made her seem more confident and formidable than the eager junior architect she’d been over a decade ago when they’d hooked up in New York City. And, damn it to ever-loving hell, she was even more of a knockout now. Dark-as-midnight hair, cut short and feathery around a flawless face. He’d told her she had Liz Taylor eyes. Once, he’d fallen for their combination of innate sophistication and vulnerability. But no more. Never again.
“I asked you what you’re doing here?”
Jayne Logan had wreaked havoc in Jess’s family, something Luke had only found out about after she’d left him. Discovering that little tidbit made him understand why she’d insisted on keeping her relationship with Luke a secret from Jess.
“I’m here to see Eleanor.”
“What, after you abandoned her? It was hard for Miss Ellie when you stopped coming to Riverdale.”
Warmth and humor filled those violet eyes. “I forgot you called her that.”
A small dog came running around the side of the house and flew up the steps. It was a beautiful little Yorkshire terrier with black and golden hair on a long leash. Bending over, Luke scooped the animal into his hands. “Shh…it’s all right, Krystle.”
“I see you’re still living on the set of nighttime soaps.”
Luke had a slew of sisters and, growing up, all of them had loved Dallas and Dynasty. As a hormone-crazed teenager, he got to watch Sammy Jo—aka Heather Locklear—every week, so he didn’t complain.
“Forget about that.” About everything he’d told her when he’d fallen like the proverbial ton of bricks for her. “Explain to me why you’re back in Riverdale after all these years.”
She bristled and said, “That’s my business,” and nodded to the house. “Is Eleanor home?”
“No, she left for church right after I got here.”
“That’s right, it’s Sunday.”
“Don’t go to church anymore?”
“No. You?”
Not since the course of events in his life had destroyed his faith in a Supreme Being. To some degree, the woman before him had been a part of those events. “No.”
