Chapter 18 Presley #2
Across from us, Genevieve and Isaiah were in the recliner. While we’d been crooning over their daughter, Isaiah had sat down and Genevieve had climbed into his lap. The two of them were almost asleep.
“I was going to hang out here for a while,” I said quietly. “Give those two a break.”
“Want some company?”
I smiled. “I’d love some.”
An hour later, after Luke and I had disappeared into Isaiah and Genevieve’s TV room to talk while Amelia napped in his arms, we reluctantly returned her to her mother.
“Thank you,” Genevieve said, bouncing Amelia, who was beginning to fuss and nuzzle toward Genevieve’s breast. “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”
“We’ll get out of your hair.” I hugged her and Isaiah, then Luke and I let ourselves out.
“It’s two o’clock,” he said, checking his watch as I shivered in the cold. “Want to go to a movie?”
“Sure.” As long as it wasn’t a Shaw Valance film, a movie sounded great.
“I’d better drive in case I get called in.”
“Okay. We can leave my car here.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yep.” I looped my arm with his as he escorted me down the block five homes to his house. Luke was Genevieve and Isaiah’s neighbor.
We went to a movie, a comedy that had us both laughing hysterically, then Luke took me to Stockyard’s for a burger.
I didn’t even glance at Jeremiah’s former poker table.
Or at the high-top where Shaw had eaten with Dacia.
I focused on Luke and the meal, talking until all that remained on our plates was a handful of fries.
“That was fun,” I told him as he escorted me to his truck.
“Yeah.” He winked, then held the door for me.
I tracked him as he walked around the hood, his long legs hurrying so he could get in out of the cold. His dark brown hair was clean cut and short. He had these dark, deep blue eyes with a hint of charcoal around the iris. Luke’s smile wasn’t flashy, but it was warm and kind.
He held my hand as we drove. “Next week, I want to take you to a steakhouse about an hour from here.”
I knew the restaurant he was referring to. It was a popular spot for locals in Clifton Forge when they wanted to get out of town and do something special. “That sounds great.”
“Friday.” He glanced over and smiled.
When he turned to the road, I studied his profile.
Luke was comfortable. Being with him was easy. There weren’t butterflies fluttering every moment he was around, but when he shot me that smile or a wink, I shivered.
Maybe it wasn’t blinding passion like my time with Shaw, but there were different levels of passion, right? Besides, passion wasn’t number one on my list.
Luke steered us toward his neighborhood, returning me to my Jeep. He’d go start it for me so it could warm up. Then he’d wait until the windows were clear of frost and kiss me before saying good night.
Then he’d go to his home while I went to mine.
We had yet to spend the night together.
The furthest we’d progressed physically were wet kisses in his truck or my Jeep. Luke hadn’t even tried to feel me up.
Maybe it was time.
“What if you didn’t take me to my car? What if you took me home instead and came inside?”
His face whipped to mine and his eyes flashed, sexy and dark. “Yeah?”
And then . . . butterflies. “Yeah.”
The corner of his mouth turned up as he slowed, then flipped a U-turn.
“Was that legal?” I asked.
He chuckled and the sound made my pulse race. The anticipation, the slow burn of the past month, hit me like a wave, and suddenly, he couldn’t drive fast enough.
I clutched his hand, my foot bouncing on the floor as he raced—safely—through town. “Would it be an abuse of power to turn on your lights so we could get there faster?”
Luke flashed me a white smile as my stomach flipped. “Probably.”
He obeyed the traffic laws, not that I was surprised. Luke was a rule follower.
The rebel inside of me, the one I didn’t let out much, wished he’d take a risk, but I wasn’t listening to her anymore. I’d taken a risk with Shaw only to crash and burn.
So the rebel was muted and I clung to Luke and his rules. He was not a man who’d accuse me of selling his secrets and make me cry for days.
My neighborhood came into view and my heart galloped in my chest.
I was having sex tonight. With Luke.
Luke and me. Me and Luke.
Was I ready for this? I took another look at his handsome profile. Yes.
He pulled into my driveway and my seat belt came off, but before we could get out, his phone rang. “Oh, hell. It’s dispatch. I have to take it.”
My stomach dropped and I forced cheeriness into my voice. “No problem.”
Damn it. Every time dispatch called Luke, it meant dinner would be cut short. He pressed his phone to his ear, and given the way his shoulders fell with every passing second, I was guessing there wouldn’t be sex after all.
Why wasn’t I more disappointed? Maybe I needed a little more time to wrap my head around Luke and me. Me and Luke.
“Be there in five.” He hung up and growled. “Sorry, Pres. Some old lady drove her car into the gym on Central.”
My eyes bugged out. “What?”
“Yep.” He popped the p.
“That’s um . . . she drove into the gym? Wow.” I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. With Luke, there’d never be a shortage of interesting stories.
“I don’t know how late it’s gonna be.” He sighed. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.” I leaned across the console to kiss him goodnight.
The moment my lips brushed his, he hooked a finger under my chin, pulling me closer. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, asking permission to enter.
When I opened for him and he slid inside, my entire body gave a collective sigh. Comfortable.
The kiss wasn’t scorching. It wasn’t fast-paced or frantic. There were no curling toes or ripped clothes. But it was delicious, like the man himself.
We broke apart and he dropped his forehead to mine. “There are times when being the chief fucking sucks.”
“Sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am,” he muttered, making a quick adjustment to his jeans.
“Tomorrow,” I promised. He nodded, reaching for the handle on his door but I held up a hand. “Stay warm. Call me later.”
“Okay.”
I hopped out of his truck, then I waited in the cold as he backed out of the driveway and raced away, this time flipping on the lights.
Tomorrow. Luke and me. Me and Luke.
“Luke, huh?” A deep voice echoed in the night and I gasped. “Didn’t see that one coming.”
I whirled around, searching in the dark for the voice I’d spent five months forgetting. Then he was there, standing on the porch of the house next door. The house that had been empty for months with a for-sale sign in the frozen yard.
Shaw.
He took the stairs deliberately, his natural swagger drumming up an onslaught of memories—reminders of how he moved with grace and determination in my house, in my bedroom. When he was two feet away, he tossed me a bag of baby carrots.
The bag hit my arm and landed on my boots, muffled by the snow.
“Hello, Presley.”