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His broad shoulders rise as he looks over at the playground. “We should stand closer to her. I don’t like that she’s so far away.”
“Helicopter parent much?”
“Is that what I am?” His hand lands on his chest, and he rubs it in circles. “I’ve been a dad for two weeks, and I’m already turning into an overprotective asshole. What will I do when she dates?”
“Way to put the carriage before the horse. Maybe you should just ease into letting her go on a seesaw first. As for dating, I already have a plan for that. She can’t date until she’s sixteen.”
“Thirty,” he says at the same time, and I give him an incredulous look.
“Thirty? We were twenty-six when we met, and I know you were with many women before then.”
“Exactly.” His voice rises at the end, which is jarring for the deep baritone he has.
There’s something in his delivery that sounds off.
His eyes narrow as he watches her play. “Is she athletic?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t put her in sports yet.”
“I mean … does she have good balance and coordination?”
“Yes,” I answer slowly. His question is valid, I suppose. “Does she look off to you?”
“No. Just asking.” He jerks his leg, and it’s writhing as he flexes. Luke’s brows are drawn together, and the skin between them is wrinkled. “Let’s go for a walk,” he declares.
“A minute ago, you needed to be on top of Ainsley, and now, you want to go walking.”
“The path makes a circle around the playground. If I can watch from here, I can walk around and keep an eye on her from the path. Besides, my leg is falling asleep.” He shakes out his calf and squeezes the thick muscle of his thigh. “Yep, I need to stand.”
Luke rises and gives a long stretch. His arms are behind his back as he stretches, causing him to puff out his broad chest. The way he checks on every muscle of his body looks like an athlete about to perform a race. His movements are swift, full of grace and virility.
Staring up at him, I take in his frame with the sun shining from behind, casting him in shadow. There’s an ethereal light surrounding him. From this angle, he appears larger than normal, like a Roman god atop a mountain. A handsome face with a passionate beauty.
When he holds out a hand, I stare at it in wonder.
“You coming?” he asks.
His brawny fist is hot and slightly callused at the knuckles.
I use his leverage to rise to my feet and slide my shoes back on. I took them off when we sat down for the lunch Luke had brought for us—three turkey, tomato, and lettuce baguettes, a fruit bowl, and almond milk—packed at his home in Walden and driven here for his day with Ainsley.
We leave our things on the blanket and pad through the grass to the concrete path. People on bikes whiz by us, and other pedestrians keep their varied paces, so we stay to the right and move over when necessary.
A gentle breeze is in the air. Nothing like the night of the fire, yet enough to make your hair dance. Luke’s hair flips up a little, making him seem carefree as his watchful eye stays on the playground, where Ainsley is bopping up and down with another kid.
I slide my arms into my cardigan. Luke’s hands are in the pockets of his khakis as he strolls beside me. Our sweater-clad shoulders are close as we keep a slow pace in the sunshine.
“How’s that leg doing?” I ask for small talk.
“Saved from what could have been an uncomfortable hobble of pins and needles.”
“Glad you were saved.”
I fold my arms across my chest and breathe in the crisp scent of a fall day.
We walk in a shared quiet around the bend in the path. The trees have recently started to change colors. I stare up at the foliage that lines the path.
“The trees are beautiful this time of year. Makes you dread the winter because the beauty of the trees will fade,” I say.
