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Blood rushed to Luke’s cheeks, and Christie winked at him, her own cheeks pink. “Funny, the same thing seems to happen to me.”
“How are you?” Luke asked. They’d texted a lot back and forth, and spoken on the phone, but hadn’t been able to nail down an evening for a second date yet, thanks to her work schedule.
She smiled warmly at him, her brown eyes seeming to darken a little, and his heart thumped happily in his chest. “I’m good. Things are calming down at work, so I’m hopeful my schedule will be slightly more normal soon.” She shifted the bags in her arms and glanced down at the bright pink Victoria’s Secret bag. “I’m looking forward to spending time with you again.”
It was the most innocent thing she could’ve said, but it sent blood rushing straight to his dick. For several seconds, her eyes held his, heat sparking between them, and he knew she was reliving the details of their night together, just like he was.
“Dr. Harmon, we’re making a gingerbread house later. You should come over and help us. Dad’s really good at them.”
Luke glanced down at Ethan, who gave him a nod and a sly thumbs up, in full-on wingman mode.
Christie glanced uncertainly from Ethan to Luke, shifting the bags in her arms. “I don’t want to intrude.”
A single question ran through Luke’s mind: Was he ready for Christie and Ethan to spend time together? In any other situation, he would’ve felt it was too soon, but somehow, with her everything felt different. Easier. Right.
“You wouldn’t be,” he said. “Why don’t you come by later? I’ll text you when we’re home. This line isn’t moving fast, and you can finish up your shopping.”
She looked up at him and bit her lip. Hesitation flashed briefly in her eyes, but then she nodded. “Okay. I’ll see y’all later. Can I bring anything?”
Luke shook his head. “Just yourself.” He wanted to lean forward and kiss her, even if it was just on the cheek, but he held himself back.
He glanced down at Ethan again, whose face was lit up with excitement. Hopefully this wasn’t a mistake.
* * *
“Hey, I saw that!” Ethan playfully chastised Christie as she popped one of the gumdrops—meant for the gingerbread house—in her mouth.
“As if you haven’t been sneaking them, too, bud,” said Luke from the other side of the table. They were set up in Luke’s kitchen, Ethan at the head of the table, Luke and Christie flanking him.
It was the first time she’d been to Luke’s house. He lived about five miles from her, in the southeast corner of town. The house, a tidy and spacious four-bedroom bungalow, was newer, maybe only five or six years old.
Ethan had proudly given her the tour when she’d arrived, highlighting the big backyard—big enough for a trampoline—and the Star Wars bedspread in his room. She couldn’t help but glance in Luke’s room as they passed. Oatmeal-colored carpet, light gray walls, simple but sturdy dark wood furniture. A blue-and-gray plaid duvet cover adorned the bed. A flat-screen TV was mounted to the opposite wall.
It was masculine and appealing, just like him.
The kitchen was big and open, with new appliances and lovely white oak cabinets that Luke had told her he’d custom designed for the kitchen. Although it was early in their relationship, it felt good to be welcomed into his space. Into the life he shared with his son. Guilt niggled at the back of her mind, but she shoved it away, trying to enjoy the moment.
“We have a couple different options for the roof, little man,” said Luke, bringing her attention back to him. “We can use Shreddies, and do shingles, or we can use pretzel sticks and make it look more like a log roof. What do you think?”
Ethan squinted at the gingerbread house that they’d all helped put together. Instead of just putting it on a tray like she would’ve done, Luke had brought out a slab of cardboard, wrapped in tin foil. He’d set the foundation of the gingerbread house on one side, and then retreated to the fridge, returning with a container and a bag of frosting. “We’ll put the forest of Christmas trees together before gluing the down.”
Just when she thought she couldn’t have been more attracted to him, he went ahead and pulled out half a dozen Rice Krispie Christmas trees. Perfect, round, bright green cylinders.
He’d handed the container to her, along with the bag of frosting. “There’s candy inside the container. Use the Rolos for the stump, and the mini M&M’s for bulbs.”
“Stick ’em on with the frosting?” she asked, fighting the urge to sigh. There was something so sexy about getting to see the domestic side of him.
He’d winked at her. “You got it. Ethan and I will work on putting the big pieces of the house up.”
As she’d decorated the trees, she’d come to realize another truth about him. He exuded masculinity, but not the over-the-top, Hollywood macho-man kind. No, Luke’s masculinity was quiet and confident and loving, strong and capable. He was a man in the best, truest sense of the word. Hardworking. Committed to his family.
And let’s not forget gorgeous and amazing in bed, if we’re making a list of his qualities.
“Shreddies,” said Ethan, bringing her back to the present. “I like how that looks better.”
Although she was pretty sure she knew how to do it, she turned to Ethan and asked, “Will you show me how?”
He nodded, a big smile on his face that she couldn’t help but return. She wanted to connect with him. She was jumping in with both feet here, and while she was scared, it also felt good. Like it was exactly where she was supposed to be.
