If there was one thing Luke hated, it was feeling like a fool. And yet even knowing that pushing Megan had been foolish, he’d gone and done it anyway. Worse, he’d sprung the idea on her without warning. Maybe if he’d waited until they were at her house, alone, and had brought it up more carefully, she would have been open to the idea. Instead he’d just blurted it out. Still, he hadn’t expected the look of utter shock on her face. Nothing like asking a woman out and her getting that caught-in-the-headlights look to take a guy’s ego down a notch.
So, yeah, he was in a foul mood, one that didn’t improve when he had to work through lunch again. By the end-of-day bell, he was hungry, disappointed, and ready for a distraction.
“I’m going to go grab a sandwich at the diner,” he informed Ms. White at the front desk on his way out of the office. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
A few stragglers meandered the halls, but he was able to make it to the front doors without being stopped by anyone, probably thanks to the frown that felt permanently etched on his face. Pushing out into the open, he dragged in a deep breath of fall air. Florida might not get much in the way of sweater weather, but the break in the humidity was enough for him. The students seemed to feel the same way; an impromptu game of tag had broken out on the front lawn.
He stopped to watch for a moment, letting the simple joy of childhood wash over him. This was why he’d gotten into education in the first place, to see and be a part of that small snippet of life when anything was possible. Being with kids made him believe that, too. At least, most of the time.
Still starving, but with a better attitude, he turned to make the short walk to the restaurant and nearly crashed into someone. Taking a step back, he apologized automatically, recognizing her as Liz Robins, the mother of a student.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
She smiled, her brightly painted lips making the gesture garish. Highlighted hair, large dangling earrings, and nails long enough to be considered talons, had him mentally relegating her to the “tries too hard” category in his brain.
“It’s okay. No harm done.” She ran her hands down her body as if to illustrate her lack of injuries, or more likely, to show off the skintight athletic shirt and short tennis skirt she was wearing. “In fact, I was hoping to run into you, although not quite so literally.” She giggled at her own joke.
He forced a smile. “If you’d like to schedule an appointment, I’m sure Ms. White would be happy to set something up for you,” he hinted, stomach growling. “She knows my schedule better than I do.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.”
Of course not. Sighing, he checked his watch before turning his attention back to her and whatever subject was so important it couldn’t wait. “Is there an issue regarding Brian?” Her son was an average student, and not prone to trouble, but sometimes parents tried to get him to change a grade or to overrule a teacher’s decision. If that were the case, he’d insist she make an appointment so he could include the teacher in the discussion. He trusted his staff, and wouldn’t go over their heads without giving them a chance to defend their decision.
“Brian?” She wrinkled her nose in confusion. “No, I wanted to talk to you about the Scholar’s Banquet.”
“As soon as the details are finalized, we’ll have tickets for sale in the front office. There should be a handout going home about it next week, after the break.” He couldn’t wait to have that finished and out of the way.
“Right, okay. But what I really want to know is, if you’d like to go with me, as my date.” She fluttered her false eyelashes up at him, and he wondered if she knew that one was partially unglued. “This is my first year here in Paradise, and I thought it would just be so nice to attend the biggest event of the year on the arm of the man who makes it all happen.”
Was she serious? It was a school fundraiser, and even in a town as small as Paradise, it certainly didn’t qualify as the event of the year. But even if it was, he wouldn’t want to spend it with her. Of course, he couldn’t say that. Especially since he knew she had already made a generous donation to the school scholarship fund. She was rumored to have married well and divorced better; alienating her wouldn’t endear him to the powers that be.
“I’m flattered but—”
“Wonderful!”
He shook his head. How had he gone the last year with a nonexistent social life, and now been involved in not one but two dating conversations gone wrong in one day? “No, I mean I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
She frowned, her perfectly plucked eyebrows forming a narrow vee. “I don’t understand. Why can’t you?”
The truth would not be helpful, and might cost the school a major donor, so he seized on the first excuse that came to him. “I’m afraid I already have a date.”
“Really?” Disbelief heightened her pitch. “I hadn’t heard that. With whom?”
Hell. If he didn’t give her a name, she’d know he was lying. And Paradise was too small a town to just make one up. Everyone knew everyone in this place. Desperate, he said the only thing he could think of. “Megan Palmer.”
“Humph.” She straightened her shoulders and tossed a lock of artificially lightened hair over her shoulder. “That will be nice, I’m sure.”
“Yes...well, hopefully I’ll see you there.”
She made a noncommittal noise and waved to her son. “I’m sorry, I can’t keep chatting. Brian will be late for his karate appointment.”
Luke nodded. No point in reminding her that she was the one who’d approached him, not the other way around. Checking his watch, he headed back into the school. His twenty minutes were up and he’d lost his appetite anyway. Instead of hunger, anxiety chewed at his belly.
He’d just outed his relationship with Megan, and now he had to warn her before she found out from someone else.
Megan kept her phone within arm’s reach all day, hoping Luke would text or call, something to indicate that he wasn’t holding on to any resentment after their awkward conversation in the lounge. Still, when it finally buzzed in her pocket, she nearly dropped the plate she was washing. Shaking the suds from her hands, she yanked it out, hoping to see Luke’s name on the Caller ID. When she saw Cassie’s name, that little bubble of hope burst, just like the ones landing on the floor around her.
“Hey, Cassie, what’s up?” She tucked the phone in between her ear and her shoulder and went back to scrubbing the dinner dishes. She wanted to get everything done before Owen went to bed and Luke arrived.
“I think I should be asking you that question. Have any news you want to share?”
“Um, not that I can think of.” Megan set the plate in the drying rack and grabbed another. “Why?”
“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you and Luke are now an official couple, and he’s taking you to the school gala?”
“What?” She straightened so fast her phone slipped from its precarious spot and tumbled toward the sink. Dropping the dish, she bobbled the phone in soap-slicked hands before finally getting a solid grip.
“Are you okay?” Cassie’s disembodied voice came from the damp but not destroyed phone as Megan wiped it and her hands with a mostly clean dishtowel.
“I’m fine,” she answered automatically as she put the phone back to her ear.
“I heard a crash.”
“It was just a plate.” Surveying the broken pieces on the floor, Megan mentally calculated how long she had to clean it up before Owen finished his bath and he and Lily came looking for a bedtime snack.
“Are you sure? Did anyone get hurt?”
“Cassie, forget about the plate! Tell me what you heard about Luke and me.” She squatted and started picking up the bigger shards of pottery.
“Just what I said, that you and he are going to the Scholar’s Banquet together, as a couple. And...” Her friend continued, a hint of recrimination coloring her tone, “I have to say I’m a little annoyed that you didn’t tell me first.”
“I would have, if it were true.”
“It’s not?”
“Nope. And, really, you should know better than to believe everything you hear in this town.”
“You’re right, but this seemed reliable,” Cassie protested. “I heard it from a client this afternoon, Joyce Jacob. She’s a manicurist over at the Hot Sands Salon, and she said that Liz Robins had been in for a polish change and was complaining that you swooped in and stole Luke right from under her nose.”
“I did not!” Megan’s hands clenched in outrage, a prickle of pain slicing through her indignation. Looking down, she saw a spot of red pooling in her palm where one of the pottery shards had pierced the skin.
“I know, but that’s what she’s saying. Apparently, she asked Luke to the banquet, and he told her he couldn’t because he was already going with you.”
“Well, he’s not.” She grabbed a paper towel and pressed it to her hand. “So either she made the whole thing up, or he’s got some explaining to do.”
The doorbell rang before Cassie could weigh in, the possibility of which Megan thought most likely.
“Speak of the devil, that’s probably him,” she said, glancing at the kitchen clock. “He’s early. He never comes before Owen goes to bed.” This day was getting stranger and stranger, and she didn’t like it one bit. “I’ve got to go. I’ll let you know what happens.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” Megan assured her before hanging up. Rushing to the door, she found Owen had beaten her there. Wrapped in a towel and dripping water onto the floor, he peered through the side window.
“Hey, that’s Dr. Wright! Mom, Dr. Wright is here.” Owen’s excitement tugged at her heart. He adored his principal, often coming home from school quoting things Luke had said during assemblies or morning announcements. His obvious admiration fit right in with her own daydreams, making her wonder what if... But dreams and reality were rarely the same thing, and she needed to protect her son from the disappointment that came from confusing the two.
“Well, why don’t you go put on your pajamas while I let him in?”
Owen looked down in surprise, as if only now realizing his state of undress. “Okay. But tell him not to leave.”
She shook her head, marveling at the change in Owen since the school year had started. She had Luke and his decision to allow Lily in the classroom to thank for much of that. However, after what Cassie had just shared, she wasn’t feeling all that thankful.
Opening the door, she noticed the strain around his eyes that said he knew something was wrong. The question was, had he simply heard the rumor or had he started it? Mindful of Owen, she held off asking right away and instead simply stood aside, giving him space to enter without overtly inviting him in.
“I hope it’s okay I came so early.” Luke cast his eyes around the room, as if looking for something to focus on other than her face. “I wanted to talk to you before—”
“I heard about us attending the banquet together?” Her heart sank even as her anger rose. “I’m afraid you’re too late. Cassie called and told me.”
“Well, hell.”
“You’re not supposed to say that. It’s a bad word.” Owen, now fully clothed, frowned at Luke. “You need to say you’re sorry.”
Luke looked so uncomfortable, Megan almost, but not quite, felt sorry for him.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He turned to Megan and his tone softened. “I really am sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“Sure!”
Owen’s easy absolution brought a slight smile to Luke’s mouth, but it vanished when he saw that Megan wasn’t going to be so quick to pardon him. Not until she had some idea of what on earth it was that he had done, and how on earth she was going to control the damage. From the guilt written in the lines of his face, he had more to confess, and she wanted to hear everything before she could even consider absolution.
Luke waited, breath held, for Megan to say something. To give him some hope that he hadn’t lost her trust totally. Instead, she addressed Owen, reminding him that it was bedtime.
“I want Dr. Wright to tuck me in.”
“What?” Megan’s shocked question echoed through the small house, but Owen wasn’t deterred.
“Please?” He took hold of Luke’s hand and pulled, attempting to tug him toward the hall.
Helpless, the boy’s small fingers locked around his own, Luke looked to Megan for permission. She was already mad at him for overstepping, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell the kid no.
She met his silent entreaty with a sad, nearly wistful smile. “Fine. But be quick about it. One story—no more.” Meeting Luke’s eyes, she added, “I’m serious. He’ll try to talk you into half a dozen if you aren’t careful.”
Nodding in acknowledgment, he let Owen lead him to his bedroom. Stacks of books about dinosaurs, wild animals, and, of course, sharks, covered the top of a sturdy chest of drawers. Fiction was notably absent, leaving Luke wondering exactly what kind of bedtime story Owen expected him to read.
“So, which one?” He scanned the titles. The first one—What Happened to the Dinosaurs—seemed a bit ominous for bedtime. He didn’t want to give the kid nightmares about mass extinction. Fish Species of the Florida Coast sounded safe, if a bit dry. He turned, holding it up for approval.
“Not those books,” Owen admonished from his spot on the bed. “Those are for research. My regular stuff is over here.”
“Ah, of course.” Because every first-grader kept a stack of research materials. Shaking his head, Luke put the book back and crossed to the nightstand where another, smaller pile of paperbacks vied for space with a startlingly realistic-looking owl lamp.
Picking one that looked familiar, he eased onto the bed. Immediately the boy scooted closer, wiggling into a comfortable position. Comfortable for the boy anyway. Luke’s arm was going to be numb with Owen’s head pressed against it and he wasn’t sure how he would manage holding the book and turning the pages one-handed.
As it turned out, Owen handled the page turning, and they finished the book without Luke suffering any permanent nerve damage. And if he had, it might have been worth it. He’d read to kids hundreds of times in his career, but sitting in front of a classroom was nothing like having a child snuggled peacefully against you. The tension that had gripped him since the encounter with Liz Robins had all but vanished. This was special, and he was smart enough to know it.
If things worked out with Megan, would he do this every night? The thought was dizzying. But he couldn’t let himself think in that direction. Not yet. Given the welcome he’d received, he was more likely to be kicked to the curb than to ever be a part of this family.
Until and unless he got Megan to agree to a real relationship, Luke couldn’t even pretend they had a future.
Pushing that grim thought aside, he returned the book to the nightstand. “Good night, buddy.”
Owen blinked sleepy eyes. “G’night. I liked you reading to me.”
Luke swallowed hard. “I liked it, too.”
Once alone in the hall, he stopped to gather his thoughts. Today had been a runaway train of emotion, and this evening’s conversation with Megan had the potential to send it right off the tracks. His only hope was to keep himself calm, to let her vent the anger she had every right to feel, and to pray she’d be willing to give him a second chance.
He found her in the kitchen standing over an open first-aid kit. “What are you doing?”
Her answer, as she struggled to bandage her own hand, was muffled by a length of medical tape held between her teeth. Probably for the best, as the one word he did make out was the type to earn one of his students a week of detention.
“I probably deserved that, but if you let me help you, I promise you can yell at me afterward, okay?” He gently pulled the tape from her mouth and examined the makeshift bandage. “What happened anyway?”
Glaring, she gestured with her uninjured hand at a pile of pottery pieces on the floor. “If you must know, I was washing the dishes when Cassie called to inform me that I was attending the Scholar’s Banquet with you. Given that I hadn’t agreed to any such thing, and our agreement to keep things private, I was a bit surprised. I dropped a plate and cut my hand cleaning it up.”
Her tone made it clear that the injury was his fault, which, given the circumstances, was probably accurate.
“All the more reason to let me help, right?”
She didn’t answer, but let him unwind the tangled tape and gauze without objection. Perhaps she realized that seeing her hurting from an injury he’d caused, however indirectly, was punishment enough. Fresh guilt rose like ire in his throat at the sight of ragged wound, not just for the injury, which thankfully was superficial, but for the much deeper pain he knew he’d caused. Flesh healed swiftly; hearts were more delicate.
When he’d finished, he grabbed the broom and swept up the broken pottery while she stood and watched, her expression blank.
“You seem to be making a habit of this, you know.”
He dumped the dustpan into the trash and set the broom back in the corner, trying to figure out her meaning. He’d screwed up plenty in his life, but his mistakes with Megan seemed to be uncharted territory, each one a new way to mess things up. “How so?”
She nodded at the broom. “Sweeping up my messes. You cleaned up broken glass the first time you came here.”
“Oh.” He smiled, remembering how flustered she’d been that day. It seemed a lifetime ago, and yet, in so many ways, they’d made very little progress. He was still trying to find the line between too much involvement and not enough, and he was damned tired of it. But what other choice did he have? Maybe this mistake, as badly as he felt about it, was really their chance to make a real move forward.
Or maybe it was the last stop on what had always been a dead-end journey.
Megan hated that such a simple thing like sweeping up broken glass could soften her anger so quickly. She needed to be strong for this conversation, and swooning over a man doing household chores wasn’t going to help. She wanted answers, not a cleaning service. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He shook his head. “It was the least I could do, after everything.”
“No argument there.” Maybe he was just doing it out of guilt, not natural chivalry. Still, that he would instinctively step in to help had to be an indication of his character, right? He’d done exactly that from the beginning. That kind of behavior matched with who she’d thought he was...at least until tonight. Now? She wasn’t so sure. And worse, she wasn’t certain she wanted to find out. Not if the truth was ugly. Hadn’t she had enough ugliness to last a lifetime already?
But even if ignorance was bliss, and she wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was, there was no ignoring Luke Wright. He took up to much space—in her kitchen and in her heart.
“Can I explain?”
“I sure hope so.” He’d stayed on the far side of the room, as if afraid to move for fear of raising her wrath. Smart man. But she’d been on her feet all evening, so she motioned him to the table. Whatever he had to say might hurt, but her feet didn’t have to.
He sat across from her, his hands flat on the table in front of him as if he were bracing for something. Probably her reaction. “I want to start by saying I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“For what to happen?” No way was she letting him off the hook that easily. She couldn’t accept his apology without knowing what it was he was apologizing for.
“For telling Liz Robins that you were my date for the banquet.”
She’d been expecting them, but hearing the words still shook her. Swallowing hard, she asked the next obvious question. “Why?”
“Because she wanted me to take her, and there was no way that was happening.” He grimaced and, for a small, petty moment, she gloated at his obvious lack of interest in the attractive woman. “The only way I could think to put her off was to say I already had a date. But then she wanted to know who it was.”
“And you said me.”
“What else was I supposed to do?” He leaned in, frustration deepening the lines around his eyes. “Say some other woman and have you think I was dating someone else?”
The heated anger that had been building since she’d spoken to Cassie dropped a few degrees. As bad as this was, hearing that he was involved with another woman would have been worse. Just knowing someone was hitting on him had jealousy twisting her insides—which was ridiculous. She couldn’t insist they keep their relationship a secret and then get upset that people thought he was available. She was like a dog who wasn’t sure he wanted a bone, but didn’t want anyone else to have it, either. Luke was a good-looking man, and because of her insistence on secrecy, as far as anyone knew, he was available.
Logical, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “You could have just made someone up.”
He rolled his eyes. “A mystery woman? Even if she’d been willing to believe there was a new person in town she hadn’t met or heard of yet, as soon as Liz Robins and her gossip buddies started digging, they’d have realized the truth. Aside from being pointless, lying to a parent isn’t exactly a great career move.”
“And dating a parent is?”
He shrugged. “Since she’d just asked me out, she’d have been pretty hypocritical to make a fuss about that.”
Out of arguments, Megan fell silent, the ticking of the old kitchen wall clock and Lily’s soft snores the only sounds. Before Luke, the quiet of the night had been the hardest time for her. Did she want to send him away and go back to that?
As if directed by her thoughts, Luke stood. “I’ll go, and let you think things over.”
He was being a gentleman, as always. Giving her the space she kept saying she wanted. And yet something told her that if she let him walk out now, he wouldn’t be back. That one thought cut through the noise in her head. She may not have everything figured out, but her gut said letting him go would be a mistake she’d always regret.
The realization made her bold. Standing, she stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “I thought you said I should stop overthinking everything.”
His slow, sexy smile had her bare toes curling into the worn linoleum. “I did. But I wasn’t sure you could.”
“I’m trying.” She stretched her arms up, wrapping them around his neck as she leaned into him. “Maybe you could help find a way to distract me.”
Heat flashed in his eyes, and she tingled in anticipation. But then, instead of pulling her closer, he stepped back. “No.”
“What?” He was rejecting her? “I thought this was what you wanted?”
“Oh, I definitely want you,” he rasped, his expression nearly feral. “But taking you to bed right now isn’t going to fix this.”
A lump formed somewhere behind her breastbone, making it hard to breathe. “I don’t know what you want, Luke.”
“You. I want you, Megan.”
Confusion fed her frustration. “So take me!” They were speaking in circles, and she was too tired to see a way out.
Again, he shook his head. “This isn’t about sex. As awesome as that is, it isn’t enough, not anymore.” He took a breath, and she held hers, not sure she was ready to hear whatever came next.
“I’m not asking you to promise forever. But if you won’t even risk being seen in public with me, if you aren’t going to give a real relationship a chance, then there’s no point to any of this.”
“Is that an ultimatum?”
He shrugged, but the movement was stiff. “Call it what you want. But if you don’t want to move forward, then I need to move on.”
Luke watched Megan digest his challenge and wondered for the thousandth time what the hell was wrong with him. He had a gorgeous, smart, funny, sexy woman who wanted to have sex with him on a regular basis, and he was messing it up for what? To take her to a fundraising banquet in the school auditorium? So he could hold her hand in public when he already had her naked in his arms in private?
Still, even as he mentally prepared himself to walk away, he knew he was doing the only thing he could. Yes, they had a good thing going here, but he didn’t want to settle when he knew it could be better than good. They could be great—if only she’d just trust him enough to try.
Seconds passed. He tried to read her face but her expression had frozen. Whatever reaction he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.
“Megan, whatever you’re thinking, just say it.”
She blinked twice, fast, as if his voice had startled her out of whatever inner conversation she’d been having, then nodded once. “Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Was she agreeing to a more serious relationship or agreeing to end it?
“Okay, I’ll be your girlfriend. Or whatever they are calling it these days.”
Air whooshed out of him, the sudden deflation leaving him light-headed for a second. Or maybe that was euphoria he was feeling. Like a runner’s high but way better. Adrenaline was a funny thing—you never noticed how much was pumping through your veins until it was gone. “You can call it whatever you want,” he assured her.
A playful smile danced at the corners of her mouth. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
“We still get to have sex, right?” he teased, reaching for her.
She melted into his arms, her body molding against his as if she’d been made to fit him. “We’d better, or I’m going to change my mind.”
“Well, we can’t have that,” he murmured into her neck, greedily inhaling the sweet scent of her skin. She arched, giving him better access, and he happily complied with the unspoken request, trailing kisses up to the sensitive spot behind her ear. When he nipped at the delicate lobe, she moaned, the sound triggering an instant reaction from his body. “Bedroom,” she ordered breathlessly, tugging at his belt buckle. “Now.”
He had better things to do with his mouth than answer, so he allowed her to pull him along as she backed toward the hallway. With each step, he teased and tasted her, moving ever so slowly along the deep V of her shirt, stopping only when they reached the safety of her room. There, he released her long enough to turn and lock the door. When he looked back she was already half naked, her shirt and bra tossed to the floor.
“You are so beautiful.”
She shook her head at the compliment, one hand coming up to cover her bare chest.
“Beautiful,” he insisted, taking her hand in his. Gently, he brushed their joined fingers across the rise and fall of her breasts as he uncovered her. “Just looking at you makes me ache. Seeing you like this...” He dipped down and sucked a rose-colored nipple into his mouth for a brief taste before continuing. “Makes me hot.” He knew she was self-conscious about her body and the changes from childbearing, but all he saw was perfection. Softness where there should be softness. Also strength. She might not believe his words, but there were other, more primal ways to communicate how he felt about her. And he was willing to spend as long as it took to make sure she got the message.
Dropping her hand, he quickly stripped. He didn’t want to let go for even that long, but once he had her naked, he wasn’t going to want to stop for anything. She must have been feeling the same way because she was already nude by the time he kicked the last of his clothes away.
He paused only long enough to grab a condom from the wallet he’d tossed on the nightstand before pulling her to him and onto the bed. She landed on top, straddling him.
He caught her hand as she reached for the condom. “Not so fast.”
Before she could argue, he rolled, flipping their positions. “I’m going to take my time enjoying you first.”
He wanted to show her she’d made the right call, to show her how much this meant to him, how much she meant to him. And selfishly, he wanted to make it last as long as humanly possible because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back once he was inside her. He started with her mouth, kissing her thoroughly before working his way down. His hands traced and smoothed over silken skin, his lips and tongue following, searching out new spots that made her whimper, mapping each inch of her body until he couldn’t contain his own need any longer. Rising, he grabbed the condom and quickly covered himself.
As he entered her, he felt not just physical pleasure but a deep satisfaction, a realization that this was no mere sating of lust. This was more. Every part of him vibrated with the certainty that she was his, and he was going to do everything in his power to keep it that way. He put that energy into their lovemaking and Megan met him thrust for thrust, arching her hips and gripping his body with an intensity that had him unable to hold back. Too soon, he hit the brink and tumbled over, his body shaking as he felt her come with him. Spent, he bent one elbow and rolled to the side, tugging her against him.
And wished to heck he never had to let go.