27. Daphne
27
DAPHNE
I ’ve already discovered that Luke gets up earlier than me. I could get used to waking up alone, rolling over to find the spot beside me just a little bit warm, then smelling fresh coffee from the kitchen. Today, the hollow beside me is stone cold, proof that Luke was up early.
I love you.
Did I imagine that he said that?
Was it a conditional offer, one that expired because I didn’t reply in kind? I don’t know. This is all new territory for me. I’ve said the words before, of course, but I didn’t mean them the way I would mean them now. I’m afraid to say them out loud and jinx whatever is going on here.
But Luke said them.
He said them so easily, and I can’t help thinking that it sounds as if he’s said it all before. Do I dare to believe him?
What about Rafe’s advice? What about his conviction that this will never ever work, that it has to be a fling—never mind that I should just have fun.
Am I cursed to overthink everything?
Luke said it. Maybe he thought it was time to say it. Maybe he means it. Maybe he doesn’t. In the spirit of the red-hot fling, I’m not going to make a big deal of it.
In the interest of being true to myself, I’m not going to respond in kind.
That’s a compromise I can live with. I get up and wash up, heading downstairs in my jeans and a shirt.
I find Luke in the kitchen seated at the counter, in his briefs and open dress shirt. He’s rolled up the sleeves and his hair is tousled, his feet braced on the bar stool so that his legs look taut and powerful. For a minute, I just stand and admire the view.
Then I realize that he has notes everywhere. The pad from my grocery list has been pulled into action and there are rows of sheets with notes. Some have phone numbers on them. Evidently, he is making his plan.
I go to his side, intrigued.
“How am I doing for a rookie?” he asked playfully and I smile.
“There’s a lot of software that’s good for this kind of thing. Maybe even apps for your phone.”
“That would be great. There’s so much to manage and I’m open to suggestions.”
I get a coffee and lean against the counter, watching him text a reply to someone. “What’s it like to grow up with no one having any expectations of you?”
“They all had expectations of me. Just not good ones.”
“You know what I mean. Unless your mom had ambitions for you.”
“The bar was low. Stay out of jail. Don’t get yourself killed. Be home when the streetlights come on.”
I shake my head, thinking it was probably a little higher than that.
“Why?” he asks, glancing up. “Was there a list of desirable achievements laid out for you?”
“Kind of. I was supposed to become a lawyer, which meant I had to get good grades.” I shrug then make a little incoherent sound of satisfaction as he leans into a good spot. “I liked school, though, so that wasn’t a problem.”
“What did you want to do?”
“I didn’t know, so following the plan seemed as good as anything else.”
He puts down his phone to give me his full attention. “How could you not know?”
“Maybe if you’re really good at one thing, it’s easier in a way. That’s the thing you’ll do. But if you’re good at a lot of things, you have to choose, and that’s tougher.”
“No, it isn’t. You follow your passion.” Luke speaks with a conviction I admire. “You do what you really want to do.”
“Hmm.”
He casts me a smile. “I’ll guess that becoming a lawyer didn’t take top spot on that list either.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay. I like the intellectual challenge of it. The intricacies of the law fascinate me, as well as how it got to be the way it is. Rafe is the one born to do what he does.”
He puts aside the phone and turns to face me, then pulls me into an embrace. I’m standing between his thighs but I’m not going to give up that coffee. My hands are wrapped around the mug and Luke is smiling at me. I know he’s listening to me, which is even more sexy than all the good stuff he can do with his thumb. “So, what’s the plan for your new commercial property?”
“I’m still thinking. Because my dad’s not wrong that it’ll be tough to build a practice here, but I don’t want to do criminal law or go back to the city.” I say the thing I’ve never told anyone. “I actually didn’t like it at the big firm. Everyone was so competitive. It felt like being a gladiator.”
He chuckles. “Different clothes.”
“True enough.”
He’s studying me, serious, trying to help. I adore how earnest he is. “There must have been something you particularly liked to do.”
“I liked tutoring when I did it in high school. Helping people understand something that’s eluded them to date. It’s very satisfying to see the proverbial light go on.”
“You’re good at explaining the law.”
I look at him and he nods.
“You are. You gave me the down-low on child support and custody in four sentences or less. It was impressive.”
“But you must have understood it already.”
“Broad stroke, never having fathered a child before or intended to.” His lashes do that sweeping thing, making him look mysterious. I’m watching when he suddenly opens his eyes and our gazes lock.
“It’s just what I do.”
“But what about that? What about sharing your expertise? Lots of people don’t understand the law. You could give a monthly class. Make it free and you’ll probably end up with some clients.”
“A class on what?”
He raises a hand. “Change it up every time. Understanding custody and child support. Understanding wills and estates. Stuff that everybody has to do but no one pays much attention to until they do. A real estate primer: buying and selling. Stuff like that.”
I put down the mug, feeling excitement rise. “That’s pretty brilliant, Luke.”
“I do what I can.”
“What to do when disaster strikes: understanding insurance and liability,” I say and he nods approval.
“Good ones.”
“Landlords and tenants,” I say reaching for the pad of paper he’s appropriated, and start scribbling notes. “Marriage and divorce.”
“And you’re off, working again,” he says with affection. “That looks a lot like passion in play.”
“It’s a great idea.”
“You’re welcome.”
I give him the kiss he deserves, seeing that there is more to this union than physical satisfaction. That’s worth the price of admission, too, and we’re well on our way to distraction when his phone chimes.
I love that he swears under his breath. He checks the message, keeping an arm around my waist. “Hey, Wookie’s in Havelock already. Are you coming to the theatre?”
“I’d like to.” I am wondering if the Odeon is as beautiful inside as I remember.
Luke spins off the chair and catches me up for a kiss. “Meet me there. I want to head back to the motel and change first.” He spins off the stool and races up the stairs, leaving me to caffeinate. In moments, he comes charging back down, his shirt open and his tie in his hand. I get another scorching kiss, laugh at his energy, then he’s gone.
I love you.
I will dream about that being true.