Chapter 5 #2
“Listen, fucker, I didn’t have groceries. I was in town. I figured, she’s hungry. That’s all,” Luke defends, walking away toward the cabin.
Madison’s holding back laughter. I glare at her.
“Have a good lunch,” Madi grins, pulling Gabe away.
“Call if you need anything,” Gabe says, tipping his cowboy hat and walking Madi to her Mercedes.
I face the cabin that Luke’s disappeared into.
He got us lunch. And groceries. That was sweet of him.
Calm down, Anna. He just needed groceries. It’s not a big deal.
Exhaling, I head inside to see bags of groceries on the kitchen counter and Luke unwrapping sandwiches.
“I should’ve called and asked what you’d like, sorry,” he grunts.
“I’m not picky,” I say, resting my hands against the small island between us.
“Chicken Caesar sub seemed safe,” he says, pushing the wrapper my way.
“Actually,” I grin, “that’s perfect. Thank you.”
Luke nods once and takes his to the small table by the window I sat on last night. Looks like he got roast beef. Classic.
“Want something to drink?” I ask, getting up and rounding the island toward the fridge.
“I can get it,” he says, standing.
“No,” I face him. “Eat. You got the food. Let me grab you…,” I open the fridge and peruse. Not much here. “Beer?” I hesitate to ask.
I look over my shoulder and catch the slight grin escape before he resets his expression.
“Water’s fine.”
“Water, coming up,” I say, pulling out the pitcher.
I open the cabinet next to the fridge, then pause and frown.
Luke points to the cabinet behind him to the far right. “Cups are over here.”
My gaze bounces from the cabinet he pointed out and the open one I’m holding open that houses spices.
“But…why?”
Mid-bite, Luke stops chewing. “Pardon?”
“Your spices are here, but the stove is over there,” I point. “And your fridge is here, but your cups are over there?”
Luke stares like his brain just short-circuited.
“Right,” I say, planning a project for tomorrow, which thankfully gets me excited. Something to do.
I serve both of us water and sit down on the stool at the island, digging into my sandwich.
“Holy shit. That’s good,” I moan, taking another bite.
Luke focuses intently on his sandwich.
“This was from town, you said?” I ask, suddenly hating the silence.
Luke grunts. “Sal’s Diner,” he says after swallowing his bite.
More silence, other than us chewing quietly.
“How long were you in the Army?” I ask, wanting to understand more about what makes Luke, Luke.
He takes his last bite and leans back in his chair, chewing. Still keeping his eyes off me, he answers, “Thirteen years.”
“You retired early?” I ask, thinking he’s too young to have already done so, but also, he doesn’t seem to have any apparent injuries for medical discharge.
Finally. There they are. Deep, green eyes, framed by obnoxiously thick, dark lashes. With his hat off, his dark blonde hair is unruly at the top, but on the sides, he keeps it short. The thick stubble is intentional, and with all the tattoos, he’s giving off major bad boy vibes.
Scratch that, he is most definitely not a boy. Luke Davis is all man. Masculine. Alluring. Temping. Dangerous for my neglected libido.
“Chatty all a sudden,” he remarks.
“You prefer me quiet and whimpering in fear?” I ask, feeling parts of my old self again.
There’s that twitch at the corner of those full lips.
“I saw enough shit in my time. Didn’t see myself advancing to Special Forces. Wanted a change. Mable and Harold put out an ad. Found it seven years ago, interviewed with Gabe, and haven’t looked back since.”
I nod, digesting what he’s offered. “Family?” I ask, carefully folding my sandwich wrapper for the trash.
He pauses, watching me. I keep myself from squirming under his intense stare.
“A brother,” he says in a way that sounds like it cost him to share.
“Older or younger?”
“Younger. You?” he asks.
I half-grin. “Only child.”
We sit quietly, watching each other.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. “After earlier?”
I take note of my body. “Good.” I’m not sore or anything.
“Good,” he nods and gets up, crumpling his wrapper.
Luke takes mine and tosses them both in the trash. I get up and start unpacking the groceries he left on the counter.
Luke joins me, and we work efficiently, side by side.
I put things away where I believe they should go. Luke follows behind and removes the item I placed, putting it elsewhere that makes absolutely no sense. It becomes a game I don’t realize I initiate.
I fight laughter every time Luke doesn’t say a single word, but just repeats the action of taking something he clearly doesn’t want placed where I put it, and takes it elsewhere.
Instinct tells me he’s allowing it because he notices it’s bringing me joy. And if that doesn’t cause problems for my blossoming crush.
Choosing to take him out of his misery, I lean back against the island. “How about this?” I start, waiting for his attention.
Luke places the last of the grains he bought in the small pantry before mirroring my posture across from me.
“You’re doing me this huge favor. In return, I’ll take over meals,” I offer, pursing my lips from smiling.
Luke’s eyes narrow. “You don’t like my cooking?” he asks so seriously, I fear for a second I’ve offended him.
Then he obliterates my ovaries and grins. A full on playful grin.
I laugh unexpectedly, causing his grin to widen. “I’ll just say, you’re welcome, in advance.”
Laughing, I walk off to take a shower.
One, to get some distance before I do something stupid. And two, because I’m feeling certain areas flutter that have been dormant for ages.
And we can’t have that. Nope. Uh-uh.
Madison’s ridiculous idea from earlier comes to mind.
Grumbling, I curse my closest friend under my breath as I grab what I need to shower.
What did Sandra Bullock say in Speed?
“…relationships based on intense experiences never work.”
See? Bad idea.