“No offense.”
Luke pinches the bridge of his nose as he draws in a slow breath. “I think you might have meant a little offense. Our nights together were better than justfineorokay.” He tries to play off his bruised ego with a smile.
“Well…”
His eyes bulge.
“You see…”
“Els.”
“You’re hardly the only man in town. Plus, if I get in a tight spot…” I shuffle closer. “A patient—it’s a secret who—said she’d invite me to one of her…parties.”
His lips press into a thin line. “Whatkindof party?”
“Like a Tupperware party but for ladies in need of a personal pleasure er…companion.”
Luke’s jaw drops. I guess this is the first time he’s been rejected for a vibrator. Unfortunately, the shock doesn’t last.
“You’re telling me that you, Elsie Hoskins, are comfortable enough in a room full of women you don’t know to put your hand up and ask for a vibrator?”
“Shh!Of course not!” I swat his shoulder to shut him up. “This person assured me I can order from a catalog.Discreetly. I live above the post office, you know. Anything I buy is delivered right to my door. You can’t get an easier arrangement than that.”
“Good God.”
“And I guarantee that will get me off every single time—”
“I helped you come every time.”
“—and not make mean comments about me behind my back.”
“Ah.” Luke has no comeback or joke to bat that away. Instead, his eyes fix on his shoes for a beat while he drags in a deep breath. “The things I said… Els, Iamsorry. I was only trying to protect you from the shitshow that my personal life becomes once the tabloids get involved. I learned the hard way that I need to be more careful. Back on the mainland, a decent woman got hurt…and a couple of not-so-nice women made a lot of money.”
Which one does he think I am? He called me a gem—if his compliments can even be trusted. Does that make me the island version of the decent woman? Or…?
“You’re worried I’ll blab about the night in the hot tub?” I ask.
“If you do, I hope any comments on the record describe me as better thanokay.” He grins. “That was a fun night.”
“It was.”
“We can have more. Me coming this morning… This apology… It’s not just about nights like that. I’ve loved getting to know you. And I think I do. Maybe better than anyone.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Really?” Sure thing, ding-a-ling.
He nods.
“What’s my favorite topic?”
“Uh… topic?”
“Books. Documentaries. To wax lyrical about over a glass of wine. Go on. What’s my favorite topic?”
Conversation was never high on our list of priorities. Not early on, anyway. But something shifted around the time Luke invited me over for dinner. Some topics are always off limits—more to protect myself than anyone else—but this answer is a no-brainer for anyone unfortunate enough to spend fifteen minutes with me. History iseverything.
Not that Luke has any clue.
He scratches the back of his neck and stalls for time. “Uh…”
