Chapter Three

Luke stayed silent, letting her speak her mind. Her green eyes glistened in the brightness of the overhead light, cheeks slightly wet with a trace of tears and rain. A part of him wanted to wipe off her cheek, a part he’d buried deep when his Kathleen died. He wanted to bury it back down, yet he couldn’t do it. The pain of that time settled hard on his heart, threatening to overwhelm him.

“You don’t have anything to say, Mr. Benjamin?”

Strength echoed in that question, a hint of sarcasm. He’d just met her a few hours ago and yet he sensed this was her usual way of handling problems. He pushed the painful memories aside and focused on the woman. He needed to find distance from both—the past and the presence. He needed time to think through why he’d hugged her to his side. Instead of leaving, he said, “I could use a cup of coffee.”

“What?” A slight confusion sounded in her tone. “Coffee? You want coffee?”

He nodded, and waved his hand in her direction. “We need to talk, so we might as well have some coffee.”

She studied him and then shrugged. “Sure.”

Whatever emotion had gotten hold of her in the conference room seemed to be gone now. And he breathed a sigh of relief. Now he’ll have a few minutes to figure out why he’d put both of them in this strange situation. Yes, it did keep her from hinting about the real reason the two of them were in that particular room. And it did help out the Benjamin family and business temporarily. Since he’d graduated law school, he’d been working to keep his adopted family in a good light. Yet was that the only motivation for acting like Emma was more than his friend?

“Are you hungry?”

His body jerked into life at her innocent question, blood flowing down into his cock. He twisted away from her at his reaction. What the hell is wrong with him? Even Kathleen hadn’t gotten him so hard, so easily, with just a simple innocent question. His brother was the one who did things without thinking first, not him.

“Mr. Benjamin?”

Idiot. He was acting the fool. Nothing good could come from him getting involved with the woman his brother had gotten pregnant. Nothing.

“Luke?”

So why in the hell didn’t he just leave? Why the hell was he following her into the kitchen?

“Well, I am,” she whispered.

Light footsteps moved across the tiled floor a second before the refrigerator opened. He took in a few deep breaths, and looked toward her. And he lost his new-found focus all over again at the sight. She bent over further and pulled out a large covered dish, righting to her full height before he forced his eyes to the closing refrigerator door.

Shit.

“Do you like lasagna?” She carried the dish to the stove and set it down. “My aunt cooked it for me.”

“Oh?” Guess the blood still hadn’t made it back to his brain yet. “I…could eat something.”

“Lasagna?”

“Sure,” he said, shaking the last of the inappropriate thoughts. She turned on the stove before stepping to the coffeepot. A few second later brown liquid steamed into the glass carafe. He sniffed in the rich scent. “Do you need any help?”

“No, I’ve got it.” She didn’t look his way. “Just sit down, okay?”

The man in him stayed stubbornly on his feet. Maybe Mark was an asshole when it came to women, but he wasn’t the same. It was important she saw the difference between them. “I would rather help you, Emma.”

She did look his way then, a sweet grin lifting her mouth. “That’s kind of you, Luke, but I’m fine.”

Luke relaxed under her smile, yet he still didn’t sit down. Instead he stepped toward the refrigerator, opened it, and searched through it. Covered dish after dish sat on the two main shelves, with milk and a half-gallon of orange juice on the side with the usual condiments. She said his name. He ignored her as he bent and pulled out the crisper drawer. Snatching a bag of lettuce, some cherry tomatoes, an onion, and a cucumber, he set them on the counter and faced her. A cross between confusion and a hint of anger made him grin as he kicked the door closed.

Emma narrowed her eyes, and then shrugged. “If you insist on helping, you’ll find a big bowl in that cabinet.” She pointed to a lower cabinet next to the refrigerator. She took a small knife from the block near the stove and a forked-spoon from the drawer under it. “Here.”

The coffee machine gurgled. He made the salad and dressing with ingredients she placed near him, setting the bowls on the table for her. She slid the lasagna into the oven, set the table, and poured the coffee. Garlic and tomato scents waved through the room, making his stomach growl in anticipation.

“I love Aunt Cora’s Italian.” Emma took a small sip of her coffee. “I love my mother and Aunt Helen’s cooking too, but Italian is my favorite.” She grinned around her cup. “But that’s our little secret.”

His heart sped. “Your secret is safe with me.”

A frown lowered her grin for a moment. “No, I’m not going to think about anything that happened today.”

“Good,” he said, picking up his cup and sipping. The smooth, rich taste of the coffee pleased his tongue. “I’d much rather enjoy your Aunt Cora’s delicious smelling lasagna.”

A comfortable quietness settled around him. Mark had mentioned she was good-looking, but his description didn’t do her justice. Soft reddish-brown hair slipped against her cheek and bright green eyes shined warm at him. His breath stopped tight in his lungs when she chuckled and focused a playful look onto him.

“I can see why my brother—” He waved his hand toward her. “Forget I mentioned his name, I know how he upsets you.”

Emma glanced down at her cup and then back up at him. No expression showed in her face. “I really didn’t want anything from your brother, Luke.”

“I believe you,” he said, hearing the truth in her simple statement. “The lawyer friend I consulted told me that Judge Brown would change the amount we agreed on when we talked a few days ago. And that I needed to make it clear the money was meant for the child only. That’s why my friend suggested I add the need for both a paternity test and set a minimum age requirement for the child. “

“I don’t want any of his money.”

He heard the truth in her adamant statement.

“And it’s Mark’s baby,” she said, softly. “The only other man I slept with in the last decade was my ex-husband.”

His head shoot up at her admission. “Really?”

A hint of anger flashed across her face before she took a loud breath and let it out slowly. “I had a reason for acting the way I did that night. A personal reason that’s none of your business.”

Luke nodded. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

He should feel guilty for what he did suspect was her motive for sleeping with his brother. His legal assistant’s research on Emma and her business was thorough, even the more personal stuff about her attempt at having a baby. Well, he wasn’t sure of that. But why else would a couple go to a special fertility doctor?

“So your brother’s fiancée is really an old friend of yours?”

“Yes.” Thankfully she changed the conversation to a safer one. “Rebecca and I have been friends since grade school.”

“That long?”

He grinned. “She was the first person I met when I started school here, after my adoption was final.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.” She picked up her coffee and took a sip. “So what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

The timer rang out before he could get his answer. He stood from his seat but Emma waved him back down and wandered to the stove, shutting it off and pulling the dish out of the oven. He picked up the plates and walked toward her, holding one then the other out for a heaping helping of the hot, mozzarella dripping meal. His mouth watered at the enjoyable sight and pleasing scent, his stomach growl loud in the quiet room.

“Guess you are hungry?” A chuckle warmed the air. “It tastes as good as it looks and smells. Just wait.”

“I believe you.” He set the plates in place and waited for Emma to sit before he settled into his seat. Reaching for his fork, he stopped the movement and watched Emma fill her smaller plate with a mound of salad and handed him the bowl. He dished out salad, dousing his greens with Italian dressing. Then he picked up his fork and dug into the hot meal. “Well, here goes.”

“You’ll like it.” She stabbed at a cherry tomato. “All the women in my family can cook. Well, most of them.”

An explosion of flavor touched his mouth: garlic and tomato and the heated stretch of the mild cheese mixed with the spices and herbs in the meat. He grinned her way and took another bite. “Wow, you’re right. This is great. No wonder Cook’s is the best caterer in the area.”

“Thanks.”

Her face flushed warm with pleasure, shoulders relaxing against her seat. Luke let out a breath as he cut another bite. She acted and sounded much better, emotions more under control. “So which aunt can’t cook?”

“Aunt?” She lowered her fork for a second. “Oh, you’re wondering which Cook female can’t even boil water?”

He nodded around another bite of lasagna.

“That would be me,” she said, piercing her fork into the greens. “I didn’t inherit the cooking gene.”

“Cooking gene?”

She shrugged. “My sister Stephanie got that.”

“You can’t cook at all?”

Emma grinned, and pointed toward the refrigerator. “All of that stuff in there is from my Mom and aunts.” She chased after another small tomato before catching it with her fork. “It makes sense, though. Every time my sister and I visited the shop, I always ended up in the office with my father. Steph spent all her time in the kitchen. We spend more time there and at school than we did home.”

“So you run the place with your dad now?”

Sadness darkened her eyes, a flash of wetness winking in the overhead lights. “Dad…died, almost a year ago.”

Luke jerked up in surprise. His assistant never told him anything about her father’s death. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“I…miss him.” She swallowed down her agony and straightened up. “It was his heart. One day it just gave out on him.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he just touched her arm. She froze for a moment before placing her hand on top of his. “Thank you.”

And it felt so right. Being with this woman exposed something deep inside him, bringing it to the surface. He hadn’t enjoyed just talking to a woman in a long time, since Kathleen’s death. Coldness washed over his hand when she moved hers away, and he buried the feeling back down. Emma was the wrong woman for him in so many ways. Getting too involved with her would be a major mistake.

“Want more lasagna?”

He did. But not because he was still hungry. It was because if he kept eating, he wouldn’t have to leave. Luke didn’t want to leave her.

She laughed. “Even though you already went back for seconds a while ago.”

“It’s good.” He placed his fork on the plate and pushed it from him. “Thank you.” He took a sip of the warm liquid and glanced at his watch. “What?” He reread the time and frowned. “It’s nine.”

“No, it can’t be—” Emma glanced behind him at the big kitchen clock on the wall. “Wow, you’re right.” Her eyes widened in disbelief. “How could so much time go by without either of us noticing?”

Shit, this wasn’t good either. This same thing happened when he first started dating Kathleen. Time stood still whenever they were together. He shook that thought away and stood from his chair. “I need to get going.”

Emma opened her mouth, closed it and nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”

She preceded him out of the kitchen into the dim living room and stopped at the front door. He took his coat from a chair near the door and put it on, gathering his keys in his hands.

Why was he having such a hard time leaving?

“Thank you, Luke,” Emma whispered, spreading her arms around her middle. “For…everything.”

“You’re welcome.” He stopped at the door, hand on the knob. Leave, Benjamin. Now. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.” She dropped her arms from her middle and stepped closer to him. “Will your friend… Will Rebecca tell anyone what she saw earlier?”

Hopefully not, yet Luke couldn’t be sure. “Rebecca is usually a good person to tell secrets too, but…”

“Yet she wouldn’t think you having a new relationship would be a secret, would she?”

God, what have I done? He had no reason to hug her so tight to his side. He only did it because he suddenly needed to know what she would feel like against him. Rebecca’s arrival gave him that chance. A fucking selfish act on his part.

“Oh, why did I meet your brother at the bar that night instead of you?”

Her soft whisper roared in the intense quiet, slamming hard into his chest. She sighed and stepped backward toward the arm of the couch. He moved forward and placed his hand on her warm cheek, tracing his fingers over the softness of her chin and neck. Her eyes closed slowly, lips parting. His mouth dropped to hers in urgent need.

“No,” he said roughly, yanking his mouth from hers. He stepped away. “I need to go, Emma.”

“Yes.”

Disappointment and guilt burned from her eyes. She lowered her head for a moment, and when she looked up again, he read nothing good in her gaze.

Just sadness, just emptiness.

Just the same type of thing he was feeling right now.

“Goodbye, Luke.”

Everything about this woman was wrong for him, yet he was determined this not be the end. He touched her cheek lightly, placing his finger under her chin and lifting her head. “I want to see you again, Emma.”

The sadness deepened in her eyes. “We can’t, Luke.”

If he was going to act the fool, might as well go all the way. “I wish I’d meet you at the bar too, Emma.”

“Luke?”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He opened the door and stepped outside, closing it behind him.

And stopped, waiting to see what she would do.

Leave, Benjamin. Things were too confusing now, for both of them. Neither of them had even noticed that it’d stopped raining. Or maybe she had, but he definitely hadn’t. He needed to leave so he could find the time to think through his action.

Taking that first step to his car was the hardest thing he had done in a long time.