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I exhale, so bloody relieved. “I know that.”
“Good.” He stands, my gaze lifting to keep his face in my sights, and he offers me his hand. “Let me get you home.” He smiles, but it goes nowhere near his eyes.
“You’re doing it already,” I tell him. “Being weird. All awkward and sympathetic. I don’t want that, Luke. I want us to be us.”
He shakes his head, looking at his feet briefly. “I’m sorry.”
“Who’s flavor of the week?”
His eyes flip up, and he laughs. “No one you’ll approve of.”
“That’s my phone,” I say, hearing it from my coat pocket. I pull it out and read a rather unpleasant text message from my mother-in-law. She wants to know where I am. She wants to know why I’m not at home. “Can’t we get another drink?” I ask, unwilling to face her wrath.
Luke looks down at his watch, wincing. “I’m already late.”
“Oh!” I’m such a killjoy. “I’m sorry, I won’t keep you.” I turn to head off, feeling like an inconvenience, which I am. “I hope she’s more your age,” I quip teasingly as I go, anything to lessen any guilt Luke might be feeling.
“Lo, wait.” He catches up with me and pulls me to a stop. “Do you want to come with me?”
I laugh. “I’m not sure your date will appreciate me tagging along.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not going on a date.”
“Oh? Run out of offers?”
Snorting, he starts walking us out of the bar. “Never.” Grinning down at me, he winks, and it brings us that much closer to the usual us.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Where are we going?” I ask as Luke drives us across town.
“It’s a surprise,” he replies, looking past me through the window. “And, we’re here.”
“Where exactly is here?”
“There.” He points into the darkness.
I roll my eyes. “I can’t see a thing.”
“Just wait for us to get through this forest and all will be revealed.” Just as he finishes talking, we break free of the trees . . . and my mouth falls open.
What the hell? I gawk at the sprawling pile of bricks. “Where are we?”
“My grandfather’s place.”
I swing an incredulous look at Luke. “You’re taking me to see your grandfather?”
“He’s a legend.” The car rolls to a stop by a few pillars. “You’ll love him.”
I blindly reach for the handle of the door, my eyes rooted on the mansion, and let myself out as Luke reaches past me and pushes the door shut. He takes my hand and leads me on, unfazed by my awe.
I trail behind, our arms at full length between us, his hand tight around mine. We get to the door, and Luke presses an intercom buzzer. He leans in when a lady’s voice comes over the speaker. “It’s Luke.”
“Oh, Luke,” she shrieks. “Ladies, it’s Luke.”
I look up at him, just as he peeks down at me on a playful roll of his eyes. “I’m quite popular around here.”
“Evidently,” I say as he opens the door, revealing a huge foyer that’s dressed luxuriously, a sumptuous claret carpet, super polished wooden furniture, and velvet couches. Three women appear, all elderly, and all looking like they could burst with excitement.
“Luke,” one says as she claps.
“Luke,” another sings.
“Oh, Luke,” a third swoons. Then five more elderly ladies appear, all singing and chanting Luke’s name, clapping, smiling, and descending on him until he’s forced to drop my hand. I move to the side and watch as he’s ambushed by a gaggle of elderly, excitable ladies, being pushed and pulled about, his cheeks being squeezed, his hair being ruffled, and his suit being tugged. And he just laughs, dividing his attention between them all in turn, satisfying their need for his attention.
“May I say how beautiful you all look?” Luke says, driving up the swooning to epic levels. Once they’ve piped down, he reaches for my hand and pulls me toward him, putting me in front of the crowd of old ladies. “This is my friend, Lo, everyone,” he declares. I know he’s smiling down at me, but my wary eyes are on all the old eyes regarding me, all with interest. A few oohs and aahs sound out, whispers too.
“I’m still lost,” I admit, feeling slightly exposed and vulnerable as I stand and accept their scrutinizing assessments.
A loud cough has the gang of women freeing me of their inquisitiveness, and they part, looking to the back of the foyer. I follow their stares until I see an elderly man, with silver hair and vivid green eyes—eyes I have seen before. But even without that massive clue, there would be no questioning who this old man is. It’s Luke, just a lot older. He looks rather dapper in a brown tweed suit, and when he clocks Luke, he smiles so wide I’m sure there’s a chance the brightness of it could short-circuit the power supply in the mansion.
