“No!” I say, my voice firm. “I mean, you can stay. If you want. I’m not telling you to stay. Only if you want to stay. I mean…damn it. I’m sorry. About the other day.”
Fuck. This apology is coming out well.
“You were right,” he says. “I shouldn’t have presumed.”
I dig the toe of my shoe into the dirt, not looking at him. “You were trying to do something nice,” I say. “But that’s my kid.”
“I get it, man,” he says. “I mean, I had you pegged as the paranoid type, for sure.”
I look up, mouth half open, about to really give him a piece of my mind, but he’s grinning, his hands raised in the air in mock surrender. “Man?”
Luke laughs and winks. “It's an expression,” he says, mock punching me lightly on the arm. “We’re totally friends, right?”
I raise my eyebrows. “What is it you youngsters say? We’re bros?”
He laughs long and low, the sound warm. Then he steps forward, crossing the space between us, and looks down at me. “We’re not bros, Red.”
“Friends, then,” I say, my throat suddenly thick.
“Nope.”
“No?” I ask.
“Do you want to be friends?” he asks.
Do I want to be friends? I can barely remember my own name when he stands this close to me, looking down at me the way he does right now. “Maybe.”
“Well, I sure as hell don’t,” he says.
From a few feet away, Olivia emits a high-pitched squeal, and Luke and I both startle. She flaps her arms wildly, and beside her, Lucy jumps erratically through the grass, chasing something. "Lucy-girl," Luke calls. "She's probably tearing after a frog. She loves those."
Olivia trails after Lucy, a toddler trying to keep up with whatever exciting drama the dog brings, and we follow the two across the lawn silently.
"I didn't mean to jump your ass before," I say. "I know you were trying to be nice. I just...haven't…"
Luke pauses beside me, looking at me. "Been around someone so damn hot before?"
I'm in the middle of a sip of coffee, and I almost spit it. "Yeah, that's it."
My voice practically drips with sarcasm, except he has pegged it exactly. I'm losing my shit over a hot guy. It's ridiculous, and the narcissistic ass totally knows it.
"It's a common problem," Luke says. "I don't mean to brag, but I deal with it a lot, you know."
“I imagine women are always losing their shit around you," I say.
“You mean it as an insult, but I take it as a compliment,” Luke says, grinning.
“I think you take everything as a compliment.”
“Daisy!” Olivia runs toward us, her distaste for the flower now forgotten. I reach out for it, but she hands it to Luke instead.
“Well, now, thank you, little Olivia,” he says, squatting down and taking the proffered flower for a second, before she rips it back from his hand and laughs as she turns around. He stands up, watching her run away. “Well, hell, for a second there I thought I was special.”
“At least you got offered a flower, not entirely co-opted,” I say. “Her affection is fleeting.”
Luke turns toward me, his gaze penetrating. “What about her mother’s?”
My breath hitches in my throat. “What about her mother’s what?”
“Is yours?”
I clear my throat. My heart is pounding in my chest so loudly I swear he must be able to hear it. “Is my affection fleeting?”
“That’s what I asked,” he says, running a finger down my arm, the movement so subtle it would be barely perceptible to anyone else. But when he touches me, it's like electricity floods my body, sending shockwaves of arousal through me. When he touches me, I picture his hands caressing me, his mouth on mine.
With one touch, one brush of his finger against my skin, I can feel him inside me.
I want him inside me.
The feeling is stronger than anything I’ve ever known.
“Well?” he asks.
“No,” I say, my voice wavering, drenched with arousal.
“Good,” he whispers, leaning closer. “I’d hate to think you’d forgotten me so quickly.”
As if I could forget. The memory of his touch is imprinted on my skin.
“Wait, you think I’m the paranoid type?” I ask, deliberately changing the subject. The last thing I need is to be a puddle of goo, a bundle of need and want, right out here in the yard when my employees show up for work. The nanny should be here soon, and I know she already suspects something by the way I look at Luke. I can only imagine how the old ladies in the town would gossip about a scandal involving Luke Saint and I.
Luke shrugs. “If the shoe fits,” he says. “I didn’t mean it as an insult, though. You should be paranoid when it comes to your kid. I respect you for it.”
“Oh, you respect me?” I ask, laughing. “Somehow I get the impression that Luke Saint doesn’t respect anyone.”