He grunts. “No, she was too busy socialising.” He glances at me. “Mum comes from a very wealthy family and has never had to work a day in her life. She makes the most of that freedom. Tyler and I were raised by nannies mostly while she flitted from man to man. We have different fathers. His has been around for him, but mine didn’t have a lot to do with me until I turned twenty-one. He figured I was a man then and needed a man’s guidance in life. He missed the memo that I needed to learn that shit when I was younger.”
I thought I had issues with my family. I’m silently rethinking that. “Did you guys become close then?”
“Kind of, yeah. He did try.” He blows out a breath. “Fuck, the older I get, the more I realise I don’t know much in life, but I do know that things aren’t always black and white. People aren’t perfect, and my old man was the poster boy for imperfect. But in his own way, he loved me. Your definition of close might be a little different to Max Hardy’s.”
I’m intrigued to know more about his dad, but even more so about his sister, so I leave the questions about his dad for later. “You mentioned that Tyler and you were raised by nannies, what about Paris? She said you guys weren’t close until her mum died. Did you spend much time with her growing up?”
“We hadn’t spent any time together before she moved in with Max.” I can’t even imagine what it would be like not knowing a parent or sibling while growing up. For all our faults, my family is your standard two-parents-two-kids family whose greatest dysfunction revolves around poor communication and unrealistic expectations.
“You two have a good relationship now?”
“We do. Paris is the only reason I can do what I do with the bar and with my life. She looks after Sean most nights while I’m working. During the day she studies nursing, so we work around that and juggle his care.”
I stare through the rain-drenched window of Luke’s car and think about everything he’s just shared with me. There are so many facets to this man, each connected in some way by the intricacies of his journey through life. I have a feeling that when I delve into that journey and learn more, it might break my heart. I think that Luke Hardy is nothing like the man I imagined him to be based on what he’s shown me since I met him. First appearances are very seldom right, and people usually choose to present themselves the way they wish to be perceived rather than who they really are.
* * *
“You seriously want me to believe that?” Luke says with a disbelieving shake of his head.
“What?” I fake outrage. “You don’t think I can cook a roast?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you can cook a roast, Callie. I struggle to believe you pulled off a dinner party for eight people.”
Over lunch, we continued discussing family and friends and moved onto the topic of entertaining after I told him I figured his back deck was great for having friends over. When he said his friends pretty much stopped calling after Jolene was charged with murder, I wanted to change the subject, so I rambled on about my entertaining prowess. I don’t have any amazing skills in this area—I lied. But it made Luke smile again.
I pout. “Why would you think that?”
“It could have something to do with the fact I’ve heard the stories that Avery has told about your past attempts at having friends over for dinner.”
My breathing slows. “You listened to her when she was telling everyone that?” Luke has never really engaged in any of the conversations we have at the bar.
He doesn’t reply straight away, but rather leans forward in his seat and meets my gaze. When he speaks, his voice is low and deep. “Of course I listened.”
My ears roar with the sound of my heart beating. Because I’m tongue-tied, and my brain isn’t thinking straight, I blurt out, “I’ll prove to you that I can cook a roast. You come for dinner, and I’ll blow your mind with my cooking skills.”
His smile turns sexy as does his voice. “Callie, you’ve already blown my mind, but I won’t say no to another opportunity.”
My excitement at his acceptance quickly fizzles. “Oh, but can you get a night off from the bar?”
“Avery didn’t have any problems the other night without me, so I don’t see why not. Just tell me when and I’ll be there.”
I want to tell him to book it in for one month’s time so I can practice the hell out of cooking a roast, but I can’t wait that long to have Luke all to myself in my home. “How about next Monday night? Is that your slowest night at the bar?”
“Yeah. Sounds good. I’ll bring dessert.”
“You don’t need to. I can make something.”
Fuck, can you dig yourself any deeper?
For the love of God, stop talking.
He smirks. “I’m looking forward to this.”
I reach across the table and smack him on the chest. “Smart ass. I’ll show you.”
He breaks out in laughter, and I am mesmerised. I trace the lines of laughter on his face and commit the sound to my memory. I’ve dedicated a special place for Luke there, and I hope it won’t take long to be overflowing with these kinds of memories.
7
Luke
“Mum told me about Jolene,” Tyler says as he helps me with my books. His accounting degree has come in handy because I have little patience for figures.