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“You’re always ready for anything.”
“Trust me, there are some things you need to be prepared for.”
I lower my voice. “Like finding out you have a child.”
He kneels down and opens the box. “No. That one was easy.”
I go inside and turn off the circuit breaker to the front porch. We’re now shrouded in darkness, the front porch light off, along with the power to the doorbell. Luke hands me his cell phone and asks that I use the flashlight feature and point it to where he’s working. Ainsley is inside, presumably in her playroom. Luke stands and opens the doorbell box and starts adjusting wires.
It’s quiet out here.
I lean against the red brick of my home and look up at the stars.
The moon is high and full tonight. It was this big the night we met and danced on the sandy white beach.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. Just make sure you keep that light pointed at the wires and not the ground.”
Realizing I’ve been distracted by the moon and not doing my job, I roll to the side and point the light at his hands.
“The night after the fire,” I start, “you knew how I took my coffee. How did you know that?”
“I remember everything you told me in Aruba,” he answers as he works with a screwdriver.
I make a harrumph sound, as if I don’t believe him.
He ignores it and casually states, “You hate oranges, but love pineapple. Your middle name is Payne, which was your mother’s middle name, and you went to an all-girls private high school and then to the University of Connecticut. You fell in love with wedding planning after watching the aptly named movieThe Wedding Plannerand got an internship with a world-renowned wedding planner while you were still in college. There’s a scar in your naval from a belly button ring you got when you were sixteen and was grounded for a summer because of it. Walruses are your favorite animal, and the only thing that scares you are spiders, bathrooms with closed shower curtains, and being seen as a weak female who can’t take care of herself.”
My jaw is slack from where I froze during his accurate recollection of things I’d once told him.
He lifts his shoulders to his ears. “To name a few. It’s weird, I know.”
I clear my throat. “It’s not weird at all.” I lean further into the brick and feel the stone through his leather jacket. “I remember things about you too.”
His brows rise in interest.
“You grew up in the country and loved catching frogs, fishing, and riding on a four-wheeler. Broke your arm when you were ten because you accepted a dare from your sister on who could climb a tree higher. You won. Math was your least favorite subject. You were voted homecoming king and were the captain of the soccer team, which was a big deal where you grew up. You have three tattoos—a tribal tattoo you regret, an American flag, and a wolf. You oddly know how to juggle. You can light a match with one hand and solve a Rubik’s Cube. And you pretend you know how to speak French, which you do not.”
“Glad you paid attention.” The smile on his face is so deep that I swear he might have dimples in them.
I never have more than a glass of wine with dinner, yet tonight, I imbibed on three, and now, I’m getting too cozy, too melancholy with Luke.
He closes the top of the doorbell box and screws it back in. When he tests the doorbell, we hear it ring. Ainsley cheers from inside, and we both smile.
“Thank you for that.”
“Jillian, I want you to know that you don’t have to do this alone anymore. You have me and … fuck, well”—he runs his hand over the back of his neck and looks back at me—“I’m here.”
The way the twinkle of moonlight catches his eye as he glances my way, his gaze smoldering with fire. My flesh is tingling, my belly is swarming, and my heart is swelling.
I wasn’t lying when I said he was too attractive for me.
He’s too swoony and charming.
He’s beyond dangerous.
“You want more time with Ainsley,” I surmise.
