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"If it hadn't been for my family she wouldn't have this shop," Luke retorted petulantly. She hadn't seen this side of him until she had made the
mistake of actually going out with him a few times.
Luke was selfish, self-involved, and, as far as he was concerned, all-important. Mikayla had never considered Luke quite so important, and had managed to garner his undying scorn in turn.
"What do you want, Luke?" Mikayla propped a hand on her hip and stared back at him in irritation. "I have things to do today and I don't have time to deal with you."
"Things like Nikolai Steele?" Luke snapped. "God, I thought you had more sense than to fool with such a lowlife."
Behind Luke, Deirdre's expression slackened in outrage as Mikayla stared at him in shock.
"She went out with you," Deirdre shot back at him. "Nik Steele can't be anything but a step up."
Luke glared at her again as she rolled her eyes and leaned against the door frame, obviously refusing to leave.
"Luke, what I do or who I see is none of your business," Mikayla informed him.
"Are you aware the bastard is no more than a criminal?" Luke told her, his gaze raking over her insultingly. "I thought better of you and your Miss Goody Two-shoes act."
Her Miss Goody Two-shoes act?
"It's not an act," Deirdre muttered defiantly behind Luke's back as she crossed her arms over her breasts and glared at him.
"Give me a break." Mikayla rolled her eyes at both of them. "What the hell do you want, Luke? I don't have time to deal with you."
"She said 'hell.' " Deirdre's eyes widened as she and Luke both stared at Mikayla as though she had committed a crime.
She always said "hell." Just never aloud. Her brothers had the corner on vulgar language. Mikayla had claimed the corner on not using it. That didn't mean she didn't think it.
"Luke, what's your problem?" She shook her head, uncertain how to handle either of them now.
"Your friend Nik Steele is my problem." Luke glared at Deirdre over his shoulder as though daring her to speak. "Are you aware the bastard was hired by my father to prove you a liar? That he's here to make a fool of you, Mikayla?" Mikayla arched her brow. "I'm more than aware of that, Luke." Her admission took the wind out of his sails for a moment. He stared at her, his eyes wide with surprise.
She had managed to throw him off. He hadn't expected her to know Nik's true reason for being here. He'd thought he'd found a way to hurt her. She had always known Luke was mean-spirited, but she hadn't expected him to be so blatant about it.
"You're no better than the rest of us," he sneered. "He's nothing but a terrorist wannabe and you're rolling around in the bed with him, aren't you? So much for all your high ideals."
She stared back at Luke archly. "Why? Because I refused to roll around in the bed with you? Sorry, Luke, maybe I was looking for a man rather than a spoiled little boy. 75
Now get out of my shop before I call Nik and have you thrown out." It was the best threat she could come up with, as well as the most insulting. Or at least, it was as mean as she was willing to get at this point. Luke had problems with his opinion, as well as others', of his manhood. There was no sense in damaging it worse by throwing him out herself. Besides, she rather liked the pristine look of the pale green summer dress and matching high heels she wore.
His expression twisted. Something dark and uncertain flashed in his eyes.
"He's trouble," Luke snarled back at her.
"But it's my trouble, not yours."
"Damn you!" Emotion almost shadowed his eyes. "Damn you, Mikayla." Turning, he stalked from the shop, the door slamming closed behind him.
"He's a little boy in a body to die for," Deirdre said regretfully. "God was playing a hell of a joke on us when he made that man."
"He made the body, not the man." Mikayla shrugged, though she, too, felt an edge of regret and concern. "Luke let himself become what he is." Deirdre stared at Mikayla doubtfully. "With Maddix and Annette Nelson for parents, what choice did he have?"
Annette anyway. But Mikayla kept the observation silent. Maddix Nelson had tried to raise his son with a few values. Mikayla knew that for a fact. For too many years the Nelsons and the Martins had been friends.
When Annette and Maddix had split up, Annette had gotten custody of Luke, who had been very young at the time, and proceded to raise him the exact opposite way Maddix would have wanted him raised.
Annette was a bitch; everyone had known it. She had been tolerated because so many had liked and benefited from Maddix. His son . . . had not been tolerated nearly as well.
