Chapter Four
Jacob
I sat in my truck, staring at the familiar blue-trimmed house, debating whether to get out or drive off. The last of my black coffee went down bitter, leaving that burned taste that matched my mood. Two words summed up my frustration: Amariah Luke.
It had been a week since she’d waltzed her pretty ass back into Luke’s Hardware, and somehow, my peace and patience had both gone missing since.
I hadn’t seen her in eighteen years, and time had been kind to her.
Too kind. She still had that petite frame, but now her hips curved like the bend of a Coke bottle spiked with rum.
Every time she walked past, my brain tried to remember how to function while my hormones threw a party in my chest and my pants.
Beauty wasn’t her only weapon. Her presence brought daily headaches.
She came armed with opinions, ideas, and an unshakable determination to change everything about the store.
In just one week, we’d argued over inventory systems, morning routines, and—God help me—even coffee.
She’d replaced my old coffeemaker with some chrome contraption that looked like it belonged in a café in Paris.
I didn’t want “notes of caramel with a floral finish.” I wanted caffeine and silence.
Every conversation felt like stepping on a live wire.
At every turn, she was trying to implement unwanted and unnecessary changes, and it was driving me certifiably insane.
She challenged me on everything from light fixtures to pricing strategy, and every argument left me buzzing with equal parts irritation and, if I’m honest, feelings I didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone explore.
According to her mother, Amariah had volun-told herself into saving the store, which had been hanging by a thread since Mr. Luke’s health declined.
Mrs. Luke apologized for the surprise takeover, but she also made it clear she wasn’t going to argue with her headstrong daughter.
Between Mr. Luke’s recovery and the store’s struggles, she was happy to see Amariah finally taking an interest in the family business.
And if Mrs. Luke was happy, that meant Mr. Luke was probably ecstatic.
Still, I needed clarity. I needed to know where we all stood with roles and directives and how to survive it.
More importantly, I wanted to check on Mr. Luke.
That man had been like a second father to me.
After my own dad passed, Mr. Luke filled that void without hesitation.
He’d been my mentor, my example, and my reminder of what a father felt like.
Now that he was home on strict bed rest, I couldn’t put off visiting any longer.
I missed the old man’s laugh, his sarcasm, and his wisdom.
I just didn’t want to see her.
All week, I had avoided her as much as humanly possible because every time we talked, we clashed about the business, and any other kind of conversation between us was short, crude, and forced. Fingernails on a chalkboard would have been more tolerable.
Her rental Jeep was still in the driveway, gleaming like a red flag.
I groaned, rubbing a hand down my face. “There’s no way I’m letting a five-foot-three woman scare me,” I muttered.
“Ridiculous.” After another deep breath, I zipped up my jacket and stepped out of the truck, making my way toward the Lukes’ front door. “Here goes nothing.”
“Jacob!” Mrs. Luke greeted me warmly, her smile wrapping around me like sunshine on this cool winter day. She pulled me into a hug before I could even speak.
“Mrs. Luke.” I hugged her back. “It’s good to see you.”
She ushered me inside and shut the door. “It’s always good to see you. I assume you’re here to see Adam.”
“Yes, ma’am. Had to put eyes on the old man for myself.”
“Of course.” She smiled. “I knew you couldn’t stay away too long. Come on back.” She waved for me to follow her. “He’s propped up in the bed watching The Price Is Right.”
I hesitated to follow her down the hall. “Amariah isn’t in there, is she?”
She paused and turned to face me with a raised eyebrow. “No. She’s in her room getting ready for the day. Why? Are you avoiding my daughter, Jacob?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“As Jack Frost nipping at our noses.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s not that I mind seeing her. I just want to avoid any…unnecessary conflicts.”
Her lips curved knowingly. “You’ve been getting bossed around by Big City Amariah, huh?”
“Big City Amariah?” I chuckled.
“Oh, you know, the ‘take charge, knows best, D.C. ice in her veins’ version of my sweet girl.”
I pointed at her and released a guttural moan as we continued our trek toward the bedroom. “That would be the one.”
Mrs. Luke chuckled. “As much as I dislike it at times, I know she means well, but this is my house. If you happen to have a run-in with her, give me a holler, and I’ll straighten her out. You all can duke it out at the store, preferably not in front of the customers, though.”
Raising my hands, I gave my word. “I promise your home and the store are Switzerland. I’ll continue to take my frustrations out by slinging the pigskin with my boys.”
She shook her head as she opened the bedroom door. “Adam, honey, you’ve got company.”
Seeing Mr. Luke hit me harder than I expected. He looked thinner, frailer, his breathing assisted by a small tube, but those familiar, kind eyes still carried that same spark.
“Jacob,” he rasped softly.
“Hey, don’t force it,” I said, sitting beside him. “Just wanted to check in on you.”
He squeezed my hand with surprising strength. “I’m good. Can’t talk much.”
Mrs. Luke kissed his forehead and slipped out, leaving us in comfortable silence as the TV blared with the familiar “Come on down!”
We watched a full round before the commercials rolled, and that’s when he tapped my hand. “What’s on your mind?”
I sighed, deciding not to sugarcoat it. “Did you know Amariah’s overseeing the store?”
He nodded. “Melinda told me. Can’t say I’m not happy about it.”
“I figured,” I muttered.
“She giving you a hard time?”
“The hardest,” I admitted, grinning.
He laughed, which turned into a brief coughing fit. I jumped up, grabbed his water, and handed it to him. When he calmed, I apologized, “My bad. Should’ve kept that joke to myself.”
“Besides it being hilarious, it’s the truth.” He cleared his throat. “That’s why I like you—your honesty.”
“I understand she’s your daughter and you want her to be involved, but I want to ensure that your vision and hopes for the store are upheld.”
“I’m not dead yet, son. Good grief.”
“Didn’t mean it like that,” I said, chuckling. “It’s just…I’m not sure her D.C. strategies work for Skye Ridge. We’re small, steady. She’s big, bold. That’s oil and water.”
“Be her balance,” he said simply, resting a hand on mine. “You both have my best interest at heart. Trust that.”
His words softened something in me. Maybe I was too quick to judge her.
Beneath the sharp edges and stubbornness, she was doing what any good daughter would, protecting her father’s legacy.
Mr. Luke was about to say something else, but he seemed labored, so I stopped him. I sat back down beside him.
“Let’s just sit and watch television for a while.”
He didn’t protest, and we fell into easy silence again that spoke more volume than words. I was in the middle of shouting out a bid, trying to give them a chance to spin the wheel, when the door burst open.
“Daddy, I know you’re not—”
Amariah froze when she saw me.
“Relax,” I said lightly. “Your dad’s behaving. We’re just helping Drew Carey out with his hosting duties.”
Mr. Luke smiled at his daughter. “Jacob stopped by to check on me.”
“Of course he did,” she said, her tone softening.
When I cracked a joke about trying to help the people price the products, she chuckled. “Well, you can only give answers to the Black contestants,” she teased.
“Always and only,” I shot back knowingly.
We both grinned. It was an unspoken rule of the Black card: You shared answers only with melanated people and hoped they felt your energy. As Issa Rae coined, we were rooting for everybody Black. The shared moment felt like one of those rare, unguarded moments that felt…easy.
For the next few minutes, we stopped talking as we played the roles of TV contestants on the game show.
During the commercial break, I asked Mr. Luke if he needed anything, and he requested that his pillows be rearranged and fluffed and that his water be refilled.
Happy to help, I got up and took care of Mr. Luke’s pillow request. When I reached for his water mug, Amariah, who had been watching quietly from the corner, reached out to take it, but I pulled it away just out of her reach.
“No worries. I’ve got it. Stay with your dad.”
“I know you do, and I appreciate your care, but you came to visit. Please stay and enjoy your time with him. I’ve got the manual labor this time.” Her lips curled into a smirk, and she winked at me, reminding me of when I’d rudely asked for her help unloading the inventory truck.
Remembering that moment brought a sheepish look to my face. Reluctantly, I handed her the mug and raised my hands in surrender. She turned and confidently strode out of the bedroom, letting me know she knew I understood her gentle clapback. Admittedly, I deserved it.
When I returned to my seat, Mr. Luke wore the same smirk as his daughter. After a deep sigh, I eyed him and asked, “And just what do you have to say?”
“She’s a handful,” he said, pointing in the direction she’d just left, “but she means well. Give her a chance, Jacob. Find some common ground. I trust both of you with my store and with each other.”
The words landed deeper than he probably intended.
“You have my word.”
When Amariah returned with the mug, she placed it carefully on the nightstand and slipped out again, leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume.
So clean, so soft, so…distracting. I stayed another half hour with Mr. Luke before standing to leave, noticing him growing weary.
Halfway down the hall, I heard her voice.
“Jacob, wait.”
I turned, and there she was fidgeting, her confidence edged with nerves. She took a few short steps toward me, landing close to my personal space. Not close enough to make it uncomfortable, but just enough to keep the conversation private.
“I know the store’s been the same for years,” she began, twisting her fingers together, “but maybe it doesn’t have to be.
My inventory idea was a stretch, but small changes could help…
seasonal displays, maybe a newspaper ad.
Some color. Some cheer.” Her voice trembled slightly, but her eyes held steady.
I studied her, taking in the sincerity behind every word. For once, she wasn’t bossing or proving. She was hoping. Still, she stood with apprehension, as if she were waiting for me to dismiss her ideas.
Instead of the reaction she expected, my lips curved into the smallest of smiles. “You’ve been thinking a lot about this, huh?”
“I’ve been thinking about Daddy,” she said honestly. “If the business keeps struggling, it’ll worry him. I just want to help.”
Something inside me unclenched.
“Alright,” I said finally. “Show me what you’ve got in mind. We’ll give it a try.”
Her breath caught, surprise lighting her face. “Really?”
“Really.” I smiled with my eyes, shrinking the distance between us. “When you come into the store, I’ll set aside some time so we can sit and talk it through.”
Her grin could’ve lit up all of Skye Ridge. “I’d like that.”
I tipped my hat and headed out, her smile still playing in my mind. For the first time since she came back, I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t felt in a long time…hope. And not just for the store.