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He watched as Holly, having got the mayor and Charlotte talking, turned away, already looking around to see what else needed doing. Her gaze traveled the room, lit on him, and when their gazes connected, she smiled.
No, in his entire life, Lukas hadn’t ever wanted to propose to anyone.
Until now.
* * *
In December, when she’d agreed to a two-year stint in the Peace Corps, Holly had begun counting the days until her training began. And she’d marked them off with increasing enthusiasm as time passed.
Two weeks ago she had stopped counting.
She wasn’t even aware she had done so until the Wednesday after the gallery opening. Lukas had left the bed before dawn, going to meet Elias and sail a boat with him out to Greenport for one of Elias’s customers.
It was one of the rare mornings since she’d moved here that she’d awakened alone, without Lukas’s arms around her or her burrowed into his side. Refusing to lie there and focus on the awareness of how much she missed him, Holly jumped out of bed and went to shower.
It was while she was making herself a bowl of cereal that she noticed her calendar and realized for the first time that several days weren’t marked off. More than several. Two and a half weeks’ worth of days. The last day she’d marked off was the day she had moved out of her condo.
The day she and Lukas had begun their affair.
Affair. It meant temporary. Shallow. Meaningless. Nothing more than an itch to be scratched. Obviously the attraction wasn’t going away by ignoring it. She’d tried that. So do something about it, she’d told herself. Have a fling. Discover that Lukas Antonides is everything you ever thought he was—gorgeous, sexy, talented, energetic— but also impetuous, inconstant, egotistical.
She had been sure she would be ready to walk away when the time came. She’d imagined she’d be ready to run!
But she wasn’t even crossing off the days on the calendar. She was living in the moment—and enjoying every minute of it. But the fear was growing inside her that she had made a mistake, that she’d tempted fate by going to bed with Lukas.
That she was falling in love with him.
No! No, she wasn’t. She couldn’t be. She wouldn’t let herself!
It was just that she was alone, that Lukas wasn’t there to distract her. “Might not be back until Thursday,” he’d told her last night, grimacing as he relayed the news. “Depends on how much time Elias has to spend getting the buyer up to speed. And if he wants to stop and see the folks on the way home.”
Lukas’s parents still lived on the shore in the big house where he had grown up. Holly knew from things he had said over the past couple of weeks that, for all that he’d been away a dozen years, Lukas was close to his family.
“You should stop and see them,” Holly said.
“I would,” he said, “if you came along. You could stop and see your mother.”
“And tell her I’m living with you?” Holly hadn’t even told her mother she’d sold the condo yet. She hadn’t wanted to explain why she’d moved to Lukas’s. She knew what her mother would think—that she was foolish, she’d get hurt, she should never take such a risk—and she didn’t want to hear it.
“You’re not living with me,” Lukas pointed out. “You have your place. I have mine.”
“But we seem to be in the same place a great deal of the time,” she reminded him, nuzzling his whiskered cheek. “But we don’t need to be together every minute. I have work to do here. A job, remember?”
“I never got to take you sailing.”
“Another time.”
“Promise?”
“Yes. Of course. As long as we do it before the first of August. Enjoy the day with Elias. Go see your parents. Don’t even think about me.”
But she thought about him.
It was because the opening was over and she had time to breathe, she told herself. It was because he wasn’t there in front of her, coming up with ideas, making demands, distracting her, teasing her, kissing her. But all day long her mind was filled with a kaleidoscope of images.
She helped Teresa hang a new painting and remembered Lukas on a ladder, hanging another one, scowling as he tried to make sure it was perfectly straight. She fixed a peanut butter sandwich for lunch and smiled at her visions of Lukas slapping jam on bread as he made her lunch. Back down in her office, her mind went immediately to Lukas in black tie the night of the gallery opening, looking far handsomer than any man had a right to. She had another memory of him that night as well—of him bending down to listen to his grandmother lecture him. Then she had straightened his tie and patted his cheek as if he were a small boy. And Lukas had kissed her. The memory made Holly’s eyes well.
