WE WERE BOTH exhausted. Spending twelve hours at a mall with three girls had a way of doing that to two people as averse to malls as Luke and I were. So would trying to eat as much mall food as one’s stomach could hold without erupting. If I never saw another salted pretzel, tub of cheese sauce, or ice cream cone again, I’d be good.
We had just dropped the girls off at the airport after packing and picking up their luggage at Luke’s apartment and were heading back to his place, both of us looking like we were in a state of mall shock and sleep deprivation. But as soon as we came within a block of his apartment building, our energy zapped to life.
He was still in the Ray’s get-up, although he’d tossed the hat in the garbage can back at the airport, claiming he didn’t give a shit if anyone recognized him without it. He just couldn’t take another second of it on his head.
I’d never been so keenly aware of a man and his desire for me pulsing in waves over me. I’d never been so keenly aware of my own desire for a man, to the point of feeling like I was swallowing my heart with every breath.
Instead of pulling up to the front of the building as I had last night when dropping him off, I pulled into the garage. I told myself it was because wheeling him back to his apartment would take time, but I knew it was because I wasn’t in a hurry to leave. Especially now that we were alone.
Turning off the ignition after pulling into his reserved parking space, I sat there, staring out the windshield, wondering if he could hear my heartbeat.
From the smirk I could see out of the corner of my eye, I guessed he could.
“So I kept my promise for the day, and if my ass never has to sit in one of those things again, it will be too damn soon.”
I nodded. He had been a good sport about it, leaving me surprised all day. From the quid pro quo insinuation in his tone, I guessed I knew why he’d been so accommodating.
“So?” I shrugged like I didn’t know what he was alluding to.
“So it’s time for you to uphold your promise.”
Damn. Just his voice was making me wetter. Or maybe it was the image of what his voice was hinting at.
“I didn’t make you a promise.”
“Just because you didn’t verbalize it doesn’t mean you didn’t make one.”
My hands wrung the steering wheel. “Mind telling me, exactly, what promise I nonverbally made you?”
He leaned in, sliding my hair over my shoulder. His fingers brushed my bare skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. “The one you made on your knees this morning.” His fingers worked down to the roots my hair, giving it the slightest of tugs.
The ragged breath it elicited from me wasn’t so slight. “This is your place, Luke. Your home—not some impersonal hotel room. Are you sure you want to do this, be together, like this?”
“I want to be together with you wherever I can be.” His fingers curled beneath my chin, tipping it toward him. “But I especially want to be together with you like this tonight.”
When my head bobbed, his door flew open.
“Not so fast.” I shoved open my door, unlocking the back hatch. “Wheelchair.”
His groan echoed through the basement parking garage. “I’m not going to have to stay in the wheelchair for what happens when we get into my apartment, am I?”
“Only if you’re lucky.” Coming around his side, I patted the back of the wheelchair and waited.
“I’m planning on getting lucky. All night long.” His eyes sparked as he crawled out of the SUV into the chair. “Does that count?”
“It counts for something.” Locking his SUV, I wheeled him toward the elevator.
I couldn’t help the smile that spread on my face—the day had been amazing. Malls and mall food aside, I loved getting to spend time with Luke in such a normal way, meeting his sisters and seeing the roles they played in each other’s lives. I adored the stolen glimpses, the private jokes, and the sense of belonging that seemed to come so naturally with the Archer siblings.
They laughed at my jokes, they shared licks of their ice cream cones, and they had no qualms about giving me the same hard time they gave each other. Growing up without siblings and having to split my time between two parents both as a child and now, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed that sense of unity a healthy family had at its core. Even with the Archers losing their parents, the four of them had a strong sense of cohesion I’d never experienced with the closest of family or friends.
“You’re thinking,” Luke stated once the elevator doors closed us in.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re not talking.”
“So therefore I must be thinking?”
Luke’s shoulder lifted. “That’s generally the way it works.”