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Oh, yeah. She was definitely in trouble.
The drive had barely begun before Luke pulled the truck into the parking lot of a small restaurant in a cute brown-and-gray house. “I thought you might like it here. They serve a lot of Southern food. I hope that wasn’t presumptuous of me.” He cocked his head, looking at her.
Something tightened and squeezed in her chest at his thoughtfulness. “Not presumptuous. It’s thoughtful and sweet.” Just when she thought she couldn’t be more attracted to him, he blushed at her compliment.
A smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, he slid out of the truck and came around to her side, opening the door for her. “Hang on to me. I think the parking lot’s a bit slippery.” Luke offered her his arm, and she wrapped her hands around it, marveling at the impressively hard muscle beneath the layers of fabric. Instinctively, she flexed her fingers into his bicep and he looked down at her, a crooked smile emphasizing his dimples.
Her stomach bottomed out as she imagined telling him about the nude photos of her that had ended up online and the scandal that had forced her out of Tulsa. The stupid, impulsive thing she’d done that marked her as damaged goods, unworthy of this man and his son.
Damaged goods. God, she hated that there was a part of her that really saw herself that way now.
She took a breath and reminded herself to relax. It was just dinner. A testing of the waters, nothing more.
But she wanted more. She had no right to want it, but she did anyway. Shame curled through her, tempering her excitement.
The small restaurant was cozy and inviting, with deep burnt-orange walls, big windows, and a fire blazing in the fireplace nestled into one corner. A large Christmas tree stood beside the fireplace, decorated with softly glowing white lights and silver and green balls. A jazzy version of “O Christmas Tree” floated through the air, and a warm, fuzzy feeling worked its way through her. It was Christmas, and she was on a date with a mouthwatering hunk, who also seemed to be a pretty amazing guy.
Correction. Amazing man.
An amazing man who was helping her with her coat and pulling her chair out for her, his fingers trailing lightly along her arm before he moved around to his side of the table. Finally out of his coat, she was able to fully appreciate just how sexy he looked in a forest green button-down shirt tucked into black dress pants. He’d rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, exposing deliciously corded and powerful forearms that led to thick wrists and those wide, strong hands she’d admired the other day.
“So your parents are watching Ethan?” She took a sip of the red wine the waiter had just set down in front of her.
“Yeah, he’s sleeping over at their place tonight.”
Her eyes widened and a red flush washed over his cheeks. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “That sounded . . . bad. I didn’t mean to imply that I’d assumed that we, or, I mean, that you would . . . Shit.”
She took another sip of her wine and bit back a laugh. His embarrassment was absolutely adorable and very endearing.
He leaned his forearms on the table and caught her eyes with his. “He sleeps over with my parents regularly. I want you to know that I didn’t assume anything about us or tonight. Okay?”
“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. So he’s close with your parents?”
Luke took a sip of his own wine and nodded. “He is. It’s important to me that he knows there are lots of people who love him, who are there for him. So my parents, my brother, my extended family—he sees a lot of them. I want him to grow up feeling loved and accepted.”
She didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes as he spoke, and she laid a hand on his arm. “I think that’s amazing. He’s a great kid. You’re obviously raising him right.”
He smiled, and the sadness slowly vanished. “I’m trying.”
She waited, wondering if he’d say anything about Ethan’s mom. His ex-wife. An inexplicable flicker of jealousy rose up inside her. But he didn’t bring it up, turning his attention instead to the menu. When then waiter came to take their order, she couldn’t resist the double crust chicken potpie. Luke ordered the rib eye.
The waiter gone, he sat back in his chair, studying her. “So what made you change your mind?”
An embarrassed flush crept over her cheeks as she remembered how quickly she’d turned him down when he’d asked her out. After fixing a few things around her house free of charge, no less.
“You.”
“Oh, come on. I think I’ve earned a little more than that.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. There’s something about you. Like, there’s a . . .” She twirled her hands in front of her, searching for the right word to describe the irresistible pull she had felt toward him since that day at the hospital.
“Connection,” he finished for her, his voice quiet and his eyes serious.
She took a sip of her wine and nodded. “Yeah.” A silence fell between them, but there was no awkwardness. Only warmth and promise and the tingle of anticipation. She cleared her throat. “So you really don’t date much? Because you seem pretty good at this.”
He shook his head, playing with the fork lying on top of his neatly folded cloth napkin. “Maybe I’m just good at being with you.” His eyes met hers.
“Me?”
