Cody is asleep in a basinet in the corner.
Luke looks up and catches my eye. It’s like an electric shock in my veins whenever he looks at me.
He smiles at me then turns his attention back to the little boy in his lap. Damn, he looks good with a child on his lap.
My chest expands. There are good men in the world. Men that are gentle and kind and still believe women and children should be protected.
The story finishes, and as the boy climbs off Luke’s chair he scrambles over Luke’s stumps, but if it hurts him, he doesn’t show it.
I sneak over to check on Cody, and he’s sleeping peacefully.
“He went down about twenty minutes ago.” Luke wheels up behind me, and we both look down at my sleeping son. He’ll probably sleep for another twenty minutes.
Danni comes into the room. Her hair is in a 1950s roll, and her bright red lipstick is perfectly in place. She doesn’t look like a woman who’s been up with a baby since five-thirty this morning.
She gives me a warm smile and launches into a report on what Cody ate and what was in his diapers and how long he’s been asleep.
She looks down at the crib fondly. “He’s a sweet little guy.”
“Don’t you have your own kids to look after?” I’m worried that I’m imposing too much, that I’ll never be able to repay the kindnesses I’m being shown here.
Danni swipes the air in front of me as if shooing away my concerns. “What’s one more? I love babies. Kendra will come in soon to help, and Luke is great with kids.”
She says the last, giving me a pointed look that makes me blush. Is it that obvious that I’m in awe of the man who’s been my savior and my protector since I got here?
Luke moved into the bedroom next to mine upstairs, and I’m pretty sure he spends the nights sleeping in the corridor.
“Did you eat yet?” Luke asks.
He looks concerned, and it amazes me that this stranger is more concerned about my wellbeing than Ian ever was.
“Not yet.”
“Go get some breakfast,” Danni urges. “I’ll bring Cody through when he wakes up.”
I follow Luke through to the club kitchen, resisting the urge to get every door for him. I’ve learned he likes to be independent. So when we get to the kitchen, I sit on a stool and watch as he expertly maneuvers his chair around, grabbing frying pans and bacon and whisking eggs.
The chair catches on the corner of the bench, and Luke curses under his breath as he’s jolted from theknock. But he quickly realigns his wheels to take the corner.
I want to ask him about his injury, but I don’t know if it’s polite. There are so many other things I want to know about this man and how he lost his legs doesn’t seem the most important. But the wheelchair seems cumbersome, and I’m sure there must be an easier way.
“Why don’t you use prosthetics?”
He frowns into the pan of eggs he’s scrambling at a low workstation that I think has been put in just for him, and I wonder if I’ve crossed a line. He probably doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Sorry, it’s none of my business. Just curious.”
Luke stirs the eggs. “It’s fine. I have a set, and I do use them sometimes. But they’re uncomfortable. They rub against my skin and itch. I prefer my wheels. I always have.”
He grins as he spoons the eggs onto the plate next to a stack of bacon. “There were only two things I was certain of when I was growing up.” He holds up two fingers, counting them off. “One, I was going into the military and two, I was going to work with bikes.”
He sets a plate down in front of me with toast, scrambled egg and crispy bacon. I’m not gonna lie, a girl could get used to this.
I bite into the bacon, and it crunches under my teeth. I close my eyes and moan, and when I open them, Luke’s looking at me funny.
I quickly finish my mouthful. I want to know more about him, and now that I’m getting enough sleep it’s likea fog has lifted in my brain, and I’m able to hold a conversation again.
“Why those two things?”
