“It’s okay. You good?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and told my tear ducts to calm down. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“You sure? Because you have me tempted to ask who hurt you.”
A laugh rippled out of me, cutting off the burgeoning tears, and soon I burst into full-blown giggling.
Luke started laughing, too. “Like, has no one ever given you aloe before?” he asked between breaths.
We were both cracking up when Luna reentered the kitchen. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh nothing, Luns, your dad is just teasing me.”
Luna turned a death glare on Luke, and I had to bite my fist to stop from laughing louder.
“You shouldn’t do that,” she said to her dad.
“It’s all in good fun, Luns. C’mere.” He lunged toward her, but she sensed he was about to tickle her and bolted into the living room. She squealed as his hand grazed her side before she spun out of his reach and jumped, giggling, over the back of the couch.
Luke’s gaze snagged mine, a happy glimmer in his eyes. It was hard to look away.
Over her protests, Luke took Luna upstairs to bed a few minutes later. I put the rest of the leftovers in containers and placed them next to the fridge. Luke’s footsteps sounded on the stairs as I washed the final dishes in the sink.
When I felt his large presence behind me, I looked over my shoulder. He stared at my back. “She didn’t rub the aloe in all the way. Do you want me to, uh—” His low voice was tentative.
“Sure, thank you,” I said quietly. Although I braced myself for the friction on my tender, burned skin, I still sucked in my breath when his fingertips landed on me.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “Carpenter’s hands.”
I didn’t correct him that it wasn’t the feel of his hands that caused my reaction, but the fact that he was touching me in the first place. His touch was featherlight, barely enough pressure to massage the last of the gooey, cooling gel into my shoulders, like he was worried about hurting me. I glanced at our reflection in the window over the sink. Luke towered over me as I pressed my lips together and watched him. His head was lowered, a look of concentration on his face. The lock of dark hair that always fell down on his forehead somehow made his reflection even more handsome.
He massaged one last circle into my skin and removed his hands. “All good now,” he rasped, meeting my eyes in our window reflection.
“Thank you.” I smiled, letting out my breath.
He cleared his throat and leaned back on the kitchen island. After adding the last dish to the dishwasher, I turned to face him.
“So, you trying to turn Luna into a theater kid?” he asked, dark eyebrows raised.
“As a former theater kid, I’m not sure how I feel about your tone!”
He held up his hands, palms out. “No offense meant! I’d love if Luna found something like that that she adored. Her mom was a theater kid.”
Her mom.Luke almost never mentioned her.Was she Luke’s ex? A former lover that didn’t want to keep Luna?That thought angered me.
Did she die?Empathy panged deep in my belly.
“Really?” I left my other questions unspoken, swirling only in my mind.
He rubbed a hand down his face, suddenly growing serious. “I can’t believe I haven’t mentioned this until now. Technically, Luna is my niece.”
I gaped at him. In all the times I’d wondered about her mother, I’d never thought to question whether Luke was her biological father. They looked so much alike, she called himDad...
Luke swallowed and looked over my shoulder, not making eye contact for the next part. “Her mom was my sister. She and her husband… They died in a car accident five years ago.” It sounded like it took effort to force each word out of his throat.
I sucked in a breath.Oh my gosh.
When his eyes found mine again, I could tell he was trying to hold it together, that sharing this hadn’t gotten easier for him over the years. My heart ached, and my body itched to comfort him.
