Luke arrived at her place five minutes before the appointed time. He was chronically five minutes early, a leftover from his time in the service. If you weren't early, you were late. He was usually fifteen minutes early, but he didn't want to look like a creeper. That was one of the rules the brides of the Purple Heart Ranch instilled in him during their coaching session; be eager, but play it cool. Women can tell the difference.
He'd been sure to wear dark clothing in case he did spill something on himself. He'd been sure to avoid liquids on the drive over. A puddle of mud was in the crack of Elaine’s walkway. Luke managed to step over it without incident.
All signs were pointing to good.
He took the stairs, one at a time, to avoid the possibility of tripping over his own feet. Once at her door, he knocked three times. His palms were dry, another good sign.
He knew that technically, this wasn't a date. And that was fine. He really shouldn't be trying to date someone when he had no firm plans of where his life would take him next. His new job of full-time author didn't require him to live in any one place. His main concern was getting Paul back in a good place, whether his friend liked it or not. So, no, Luke didn’t need to get into a serious relationship right now.
The door opened, and all his best-laid plans vanished from his mind.
Elaine stood in dark jeans and a simple t-shirt. She was dressed far too casually for their outing to be considered a date. Still, she looked like a knockout nonetheless.
Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, the way women fixed it when they wanted it to appear they weren't trying too hard, but it was evident that they had. Her makeup was slight as though to look like it wasn't there. Though her lashes were long enough to be wingtips, he could see the outline of the eyeliner there. There was a touch of gloss on her rosy lips, even though her tongue struck out to lick at her lower lip.
This was a good sign, right? When a woman looked as though she hadn’t tried real hard, it usually meant she’d had. At least that’s what the brides had told him.
Luke's eyes caught and held on Elaine’s lip. He watched as it moved, stretching wide and then forming an O and finally pressing closed.
Oh, wait. She had been forming words. She had been speaking to him. What had she just said?
"You look amazing," he said. A compliment was always a perfect response.
"Thanks," she said. "I was going for a comfortable night out with my potential new friend."
"So, I have potential?" Luke waggled his brows, which he hoped looked cute and endearing.
Elaine’s brows pulled together, and she leaned back a bit. She reached behind and pulled the door closed. Great, he was already off to the wrong foot with her.
Luke went to follow Elaine down the steps. Unfortunately, he misstepped, and his foot stepped into one of the potted plants.
The brown guts spilled and exposed the plant's roots. Luke bent to save the plant, just as Elaine bent down as well. Their heads collided.
Elaine's hand went to her forehead. Luke's hands went there, as well. Their fingers intertwined. Their gazes locked.
The wince she'd worn fell away. The sparkle returned to her brown gaze in the pale moonlight. Luke brushed his thumb across her forehead in a windshield wiping motion.
“We’ve gotta stop bumping into each other,” she said.
That was the last thing he wanted to do. Though he didn’t relish the small hurt he’d given her. Her skin was satin in his hands. There was no bruise forming on her forehead. He should give her her head back, but he liked the feeling of her in the palm of his hand. It felt right.
Elaine blinked, snuffing out the sparkles. She turned her head. When she did, she broke his hold on her. She reached for and repotted the plant. Luke brushed the dirt off his shoe. The dry dirt turned to mud in his sweaty hands.
“This is a nice looking house,” said Luke when they were down the steps and on a level playing field. “Do you have roommates?”
“No, it’s my house. It’s been mine since I was twelve. After my parents’ second divorce, they tried for split custody. But, instead of me going to my dad’s apartment every other day and living out of a suitcase and backpack, the judge made it so that they would take turns and come stay at the house so that I could stay put.”
“That was very responsible of them.”
Her gaze tracked up to his. “It was my idea. I hated living out of a suitcase, especially when there were mostly books in my suitcase instead of clothes. It was pretty heavy.”
“Divorce is hard. Are they remarried?”
“Yes, they are. To each other. This is their fourth time getting remarried. This last one was a destination wedding. I stayed home. I’m a little too old to be a flower girl, don’t you think.”
The words were flippant, but Luke saw the crinkle at the edge of her eyes. He saw the tug at the corner of her forced smile. Her lashes fluttered, like a wounded bird’s.
Elaine hugged her arms around herself in the breezeless night. Luke noted that she alternately scratched at her chest or balled her hands into fists as she talked about her parents.
“What about your parents?” she asked.
“My mother died when I was very young.”
“I’m sorry.”
Luke shrugged, scratching at his own chest. “I was too young to remember her.” He balled his hand into a fist. “She died from complications due to pregnancy.”
Elaine’s face contorted into horror.
Luke shook his head, hoping to clear the horror. He hoped she didn’t ask. He didn’t like to talk about it. But he knew that if Elaine asked, he would tell her.
He would tell her how the pregnancy was high risk, but his mother decided it was worth it. He was worth it. He’d tell Elaine how his mother had nearly died delivering him. That she only survived his first year before she succumbed to the ravages of her body.
But Elaine didn’t ask.
“And your father?”
Luke scratched at his chest with his balled fist. “He never remarried. He said she was the one. You’d think he’d be bitter that he lost her. But he’s not. He says every day that he was blessed to find her. Not everyone finds their true love.”
Elaine snorted. Then covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”
Luke quirked an eyebrow. “Right. You don’t believe in love.”
Elaine waggled her head. “I believe that people can care deeply for one another. But the concept of love …” She shook her head instead of completing the sentence. “No, not love. Passion. Passion like that is dangerous. It’s a chemical reaction, a rush of endorphins that increases your blood flow and makes your heart race and your breath catch. That’s medically dangerous. Who wants to live in that state all their lives?”
Elaine lifted a brow at him. Luke felt a rush of endorphins when their gazes connected. His heart didn’t skip a beat, but it did speed up. His breath didn’t catch, but he felt light-headed all the same.
“It might start that way,” he said. “That’s your body’s fight or flight response. But you can choose to run away from it or stick around. When you stick around, the body will find a plateau because that’s its natural state. It wants stasis, so that person that initiated those feelings if you both stick around, the feeling will change to something normal.”
She’d been eying him skeptically, but there was a slight twitch of her cheek. The twitch pulled down the doubtful brow. It lifted the slight frown. Did part of her want to believe him? Because all of him wanted her to.
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
“I figured since I ruined your taco, I owe you one.”
“It wasn’t my taco. It was my boss, Mary’s taco.”
“Your boss? What exactly is it that you do?”
“I work at the library.”
Mary? The library? Where he was speaking tomorrow.
Did Elaine know who he was? No, he didn’t think she did. Especially not with how she had reacted to him since their first meeting. He didn’t have any pictures on his author profile. At first, because he needed to keep his anonymity as he was still in the service. But now that he was out, his publishers were pushing him to do more signings.
“We have a big day there tomorrow,” Elaine continued. “Some hack author is coming to do signings.”