Page 89 of Out Of A Fix

“Absolutely right.”

“Then say you will, and I will look you up when I’m in Chicago as well,” he said, and I noted his coy smile. “Do we have a deal?”

“We do,” I said, smiling.

“You have lovely eyes, do you know that?”

“Well, everything about you is lovely as well.”

He almost purred, then turned and went down the steps. It was definitely nice watching him walk away.

Back inside, I saw Shelly and Luke talking on the back porch, joined by Tatum, and went to check on the food. But everything was under control, so I went to my room to get on my laptop and add to my notes about the job and what was happening with the Duchesne family. At completion, the notes were summarized and given to the client.

I had been typing for a bit when my door, which I’d left open, was slammed shut, and when I checked, Luke was there, his jaw clenched, hands fisted at his sides, brows furrowed like he was upset.

“I would ask, but we’re not talking, right?”

“Don’t be glib, Nash.”

After a moment, I sighed. “I saw you and Shelly outside talking.”

“Yes.”

“She and Tatum all right?”

“Yes.”

I squinted at him. “What the hell? That’s it? That’s all I get? No other explanation?”

“Why do you care? Why would we discuss things? We’re not partners. According to you, that’s not what you’re here for.”

I stood up and crossed my arms. “I’m trying to help you, watch out for you, but all you can see is⁠—”

“You’re thinking for me is what you’re doing, and I don’t appreciate it at all. Because I get that you’ve been a fixer a long time and that you think you’ve been in positions like this before, but you actually haven’t. Not really. Because me and my kids are not people you’ve ever come in contact with before. We’re unique individuals.”

“I never said that you or the kids are⁠—”

“And Shelly has been wrong about so much, not all her fault, but thinking, even for a second, that I want you here, or the kids want you here, based on feelings of gratitude is absurd. We all want you here because you fit, idiot.”

Idiot was new. “Luke, you⁠—”

“And you don’t fit like Caitlyn, and I know you’re not their mother or whatever stupid shit you think goes through my head, but I⁠—”

“What are you talking about? All I am is the guy who’s supposed to leave this situation better than I found it, and⁠—”

“How dare you flirt with that fuckin’ lawyer in my house!”

I took a step back, reeling, my arms falling to my sides. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me!” he roared, and it was lucky the bedroom was a wall away from the kitchen, or Griff would have been in here in a second. “I will not have you flirting in front of my kids and looking at that man like⁠—”

“What is wrong with you?” I growled, charging by him, needing to get out of the small room where it was suddenly hard to breathe. I got to the door, reached for the knob, but his arm came around me, his hand bracing against the wood, making it impossible to open.

“You have to let⁠—”

“Wait.” He panted into my shoulder, shoved close. “Just wait.”

I could do nothing else and closed my eyes, concentrating on my breathing, in and out, trying to calm my racing heart. The problem with that, with letting the anger dissipate, was that I suddenly realized where his hands were.