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Luke smiled as he responded. You’re even prettier than I remember.
She blushed, caught off guard by the compliment. Her thumbs flew over the keypad.
Nice try, but flattery won’t work. Hitting Send she folded her arms across her chest. His smoldering, deep blue eyes were merely a speed bump on her way to another successful acquisition.
She fought to hide a smile as she read, Meaner, too.
Taking a sip of wine, he sat back in his chair.
Not mean, just determined to do my job.
Waiting for his reply, she turned and filled the sink with dirty dishes. Her parents still refused to install a dishwasher in the old home.
The phone vibrated on the counter and she reached for it.
No matter what it takes?
She hesitated. There wasn’t much she wouldn’t do for her career. After working from a junior associate to her current position, busting her butt with long hours, extended trips, living from a suitcase, never having time for anything else—including a real relationship—failing wasn’t an option.
No matter what. Don’t stand in my way, Luke.
She peered through the window watching as he read and replied.
Don’t think I’ll step aside quite so easily this time, Victoria.
Her heart pounded as she turned away. Were they still talking about the store?
Setting the phone aside, she scraped the dirty plates into the garbage can and stacked them in the sink. A moment later, out of the corner of her eye she noticed Luke pacing the back porch. He’d excused himself to take a call, and she tried to tamp down her curiosity.
Luke smiled, and she watched his moving lips, wishing she could read them.
Her mother hadn’t mentioned otherwise, so she’d assumed he was single. But then again apparently her mother couldn’t be trusted as a source of information about Luke anymore.
Of course he must have someone special in his life; he was gorgeous. She wondered who it could be. Every single woman in town would be vying for his attention. She bit her lip, watching as he picked up a shovel on the deck and, cradling his phone against his shoulder, cleared a path to the stairs leading to the yard. With his back to her, she took the opportunity to study him. In his faded jeans and leather jacket, he looked better than ever. She’d always been attracted to him, but she hadn’t remembered him looking quite so irresistible.
Luke set the shovel aside and turned toward the window. Seeing her watching him, he waved.
Victoria’s cheeks flushed, and the wet dinner plate slipped out of her hands. She caught it before it hit the floor. Quickly, she turned her attention back to the sink.
A moment later, the back door opened and Luke appeared beside her. “Brrr. It’s cold out there once the sun sets.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded as she scrubbed the plate with a sponge.
Luke peered into the sink over her shoulder, his warm breath on the back of her neck. “I think those little pink flowers are supposed to stay on the plates.” He picked up a dish towel.
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ve got this.” She laid the plate in the drying rack and motioned for him to give her the towel. “Go into the living room and relax with my parents.” Or leave. Either would work. She just wanted him as far away from her as possible. Spending time with him was proving difficult. Beyond the physical improvements, he was even kinder, funnier and more familiar than she could have imagined.
“No way. It’s the least I can do for supper.” He moved the towel out of her reach and picked up a handful of forks from the drying rack.
His cell phone rang in his shirt pocket and he checked the caller ID. He slid the phone, unanswered, back as it continued to ring.
“If you have to get that, I can finish up here.” She nodded toward his vibrating pocket.
Her BlackBerry had once again lost signal and she was eager to return to the bed-and-breakfast to catch up on missed calls and emails.
“No, that one can wait,” he said, placing the forks in the cutlery drawer and reaching for a plate. “My brother-in-law, Roy, is retiling their downstairs bathroom and he has a million questions.” He laughed. “I offered to just do it myself—it would be faster and easier.”
She hated that the sound of his laugh and the sight of his smile still had such a profound effect on her.
Luke sniffed the air. “Your mom is a fantastic cook.” Opening the oven door, he looked inside at the pumpkin pie.
“You better close that before she comes in here and catches you,” she warned, washing the last plate and setting it aside. She took the dish towel from Luke and dried her hands. “And I wouldn’t let your mother hear you say that.”
Luke closed the door and studied her intensely. “How about you? Have you acquired any new baking skills?”
“No.” Victoria had never been the culinary wonder her mother was; she’d never had the desire to learn, despite years of working at Mrs. Norris’s bakery in the summer. “I’m too busy to bake.” She shrugged and removed the apron from around her neck, hanging it on the hook near the pantry.
Luke’s gaze dropped to her waist. “Looks like you’ve been too busy to eat, too.”
She tugged her shirt lower and cleared her throat. “So, I heard about your dad’s heart attack last year. How is he?”
“Better,” Luke said with a nod. “After his bypass surgery, he’s feeling much better. It’s one of the reasons I try to spend more time here in Brookhollow now, working on local construction projects…to help out. Dad won’t admit he can’t do certain things’ I was sorry to hear about your grandma. I would have attended the funeral, but it happened so suddenly, and I was away.”
She dismissed that with a wave of her hand and said, “I barely made it myself. I flew in from an acquisitions trip to Minnesota, then took the red-eye back out.” Her maternal grandmother, her last remaining grandparent, had died from a stroke several years before. As a child, Victoria had spent a lot of time with her, chattering away as her grandma planted flowers in her garden or sitting on the porch, holding her wool as she knitted hats for the maternity ward at the hospital. After she moved to New York the two had remained close, talking at least once a week. She missed those conversations.
Her grandmother had always encouraged her to do what made her happy, regardless of what others might think.
Wiping pie crumbs off the counter onto her hand, she said, “Dad told me you helped him with the deck last summer’ That was nice of you.”
“Ah, your dad did most of the work. Even retired, he’s a fantastic contractor. Definitely knows his stuff,” Luke said. “He told me about your promotion and that you bought an apartment a few months ago. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Victoria’s gaze met his and she laughed.
“What’s funny?” Luke asked. But he was grinning, too.
“Just that we haven’t spoken in forever, yet we know enough about each other to write a book.”
Luke laughed. “Small towns.”
His cell phone rang again.
He took the phone out of his pocket, checked the call display and silenced the call.
“You’re quite the busy guy. Your phone rings almost as often as mine…when I have service.” She grabbed the oven mitts as the timer beeped on the stove. She took the pie out of the oven and set it to cool on the rack her mother had put out, as she made a fresh pot of coffee.
“Yeah, sorry…work.” He shrugged. “This is a busy time of year.”
“The store’s closed,” Victoria said with a frown.
“My other job.” Luke didn’t elaborate.
Victoria fought every last impulse to question him further. It was none of her business. The only thing she cared about was the store.
“Oh,” she said simply, serving the first piece of pie and pushing the dish toward him. She plated the rest and carried them on a tray into the living room, where she served them to her parents and aunt and uncle.
Her mother raised her eyebrows. “You’re not having any?”
“I’m stuffed from dinner.” Victoria faked a yawn and glanced at her watch. It had been a long day and she had work to do. “Actually, Mom, I think I’m going to head back to the bed-and-breakfast.”
Her mother glanced at the clock on the mantel above the fireplace. “I guess it is getting late. Oh, don’t forget to take some stuff I thought you might like to have from your old room.” She pointed to the box near the doorway.
Victoria cringed inwardly. Just recently, her parents had finally converted her old bedroom into a sewing room for her mother. The pink walls that used to hold posters of her favorite rock bands were now painted a light tan. Her cheerleading and soccer trophies that used to line the bookshelves were in the attic, replaced by her mother’s collection of patterns. She suspected the pictures of herself and Luke and her friends had found their way into the overstuffed box near the door and she wished she could somehow escape without taking it. She’d purposely left all of this behind.
She bent and picked up the heavy box and turned with a forced smile. “Good night, Dad.”
“Drive safe, honey. The roads are slippery,” he cautioned. He reclined the leather recliner and rested his pie plate on his protruding belly.
“I will. Bye, Mom. Uncle Frank, Aunt Linda.” She advanced toward the porch and gave a quick nod in Luke’s direction. “I’ll see you in the morning…at the store?”
His determined gaze met hers and he nodded. “You bet. You need help with that box?”
“Nope, I got it.” She struggled to open the front door, balancing the box on one arm, then stopped. There was no escaping him. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Luke…you’ve got me blocked in the driveway.”
He swallowed his mouthful of pie and set the plate on the end table. “Sorry, I forgot.” He grabbed his keys and met her at the door.
“Hey, look where you kids are standing.” Her mother chuckled, pointing to the door frame above their heads.
Victoria looked up. Mistletoe hung about three inches above them. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. “Forget it, Mom,” she said, shaking her head as she reached for the door handle. She doubted very much Luke wanted to kiss her, either. She took a step outside, but Luke’s grip on her arm drew her back in.
He looked amused. “It’s mistletoe, Victoria. It’s tradition.”
Her mouth gaped. He couldn’t be serious.
He moved toward her, and she took a step back. His hand tightened on her shoulder, as he lowered his head.
He is serious. Her mouth went dry, and she licked her lips. “Luke…” Her protest was muffled as his lips landed on hers.
The kiss was quick and soft, but her knees weakened under its effect. Off balance, she reached out and grabbed his arm, starting to lose her hold of the box. Luke tightened his grip on her waist to steady her as he moved away and took the box from her.
Victoria’s trembling hand flew to her lips where his had just been.
“That’s the trouble with mistletoe,” he said, his gaze piercing. “You can’t always control who you find underneath it.”
Luke jumped into his truck and slammed the door. The heat of the simple kiss made him only distantly aware of the cold air inside the cab. He slid the key into the ignition. The memories of their past together had faded over time…and then she’d come back. That’s all it had taken.
He’d had the urge to kiss her the moment he’d seen her shocked expression in the store earlier that day. But he hadn’t expected his own reaction to the kiss, which had been meant to annoy her. The joke was on him.
The woman was here for one reason—to take his store away.
His cell buzzed on the passenger seat. “Hello?” he answered, cradling the phone against his shoulder as he turned on the headlights and backed out of the driveway.
“Hey, man, where are you?” His buddy Jim Bishop could barely be heard above the loud background of his surroundings.
“Just leaving the Masons’ house.” Luke shivered, finally registered just how cold it was. The heater in the old truck was cranked, but only chilled air came out of the vents. Ice crystals formed on the inside of the windshield and he rubbed it with the sleeve of his jacket, clearing a narrow chunk of window to see out.
“What were you doing over there?” Jim yelled into the phone.
Luke cringed and pulled the phone away from his ear. “Mrs. Mason invited me to dinner and you know how much good it does to argue with that woman.”
Jim laughed. “I would love to be a fly on the wall when your mom finds out…and she will find out.”
Jim was right. His mother would know soon enough and he dreaded the conversation that was bound to ensue. “Yeah, well, try to keep the news to yourself.”
“You got it. Hey, if you’re on your way home, why don’t you stop by the pool hall? Bob’s wife let him go out tonight and Darren’s on his way.”
Luke hesitated. “Who’s on bar tonight?”
Jim laughed. “You know, if you didn’t break the hearts of all the waitstaff around here, you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”
“That’s not what happens.” Luke scoffed. “We date, we have fun, then we mutually agree to go our own ways…” Most of the time anyway. Of course there may have been women who’d been hoping for something more from him, but he’d learned his lesson about serious relationships the hard way a long time ago.
“Is that why you’re still avoiding Hayley?”
“I’m not avoiding her… I just don’t trust her to pour me a drink at the moment.”
Jim’s loud, hearty laugh came through the phone again. “Well, don’t worry, you’re safe. Melody’s on bar tonight.”
“Perfect.” Luke pulled into a driveway and turned the truck around. A few games of eight ball were just the thing to clear his head. If he’d learned anything so far, it was that he would need his resolve when dealing with his ex-fiancée. “I’ll be there in an hour. I have to stop by the house to let the dog out first.”
“Great, bring your wallet.”
“Sure. I have no problem taking your money.”
CHAPTER THREE
Victoria scanned her room at the bed-and-breakfast, trying to figure where the noise was coming from. She glanced at her laptop screen. The annoying buzzing came from the cable Mrs. Harris had given her to connect to the internet. A timed-out error message appeared on the screen and the buzzing paused, then resumed. Her mouth fell open. Seriously, dial up? She rested her head in her hands as she waited. When Mrs. Harris had said the Brookhollow Inn had internet access, she’d assumed it was Wi-Fi.
The color-themed guest rooms, occupying the two upper floors of the four-level estate were still decorated in an intriguing mix of Victorian, French country and European Old World. Downstairs, the common areas consisted of a sitting room near the front of the house with a large stone fireplace, handcrafted furniture and bookshelves lined with magazines and novels. These were the better-maintained areas of the house, and Victoria suspected it was because they saw the least amount of use.
The dining area with its six-round wicker table and chair sets extended onto a magnificent, large wraparound deck with a view of the big, fenced yard. She’d been disappointed to see that the large floor-to-ceiling, stained-glass windows were chipped, and the floral wallpaper was outdated and peeling in the corners. The weather-worn gazebo still stood in the center of the yard, near the rock waterfall overrun with weeds; it had been the location she’d selected for the wedding ceremony. In summer, the garden had been the perfect backdrop. Now, draped in mounds of snow and ice, the bare trees and neglected rock beds seemed just a sad shadow of a more elegant time.
The buzzing stopped and her home page opened at a snail’s pace. She typed her remote access login and password and hit Enter. Nothing. The hourglass icon appeared on the screen. “Oh, come on.” Her BlackBerry revealed thirty-two new messages, which the cell service here maddeningly prevented her from accessing. At this rate it would take her until midnight to read and respond to them all. Her voice mail could wait until morning; it was too late to return calls now anyway.
She stood and stretched at the bedroom window. The street below was dark and quiet—a typical Monday night in Brookhollow. In the city, the sound of traffic and the glow of lights were a constant reminder of life in continuous motion. She missed the noise and distraction. Here, the silence allowed her to hear her own thoughts.
Raising a hand to her lips, her cheeks heated. When she’d left home, she’d been certain the memory of Luke would plague her forever, but time and distance really did have a way of mending the heart and allowing you to forget. And then one simple kiss had shaken her.
A loud knock on the bedroom door made her jump and she released the thick curtain. Mrs. Harris? Her eyes widened as she opened the door. “What are you guys doing here?” Three of her best friends from high school stood in the hallway. She hadn’t told anybody she was coming to town and guilt now washed over her. She was here for work and she hadn’t wanted to mix business with pleasure. Rachel Harper was the only one she kept in touch with, and she’d been planning to stop in and surprise her at some point. Well, the surprise was on her.
