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Luke takes a step forward and leans against the open car door, folds his arms, his forearms flexing pure muscle as he takes a deep breath. “Go inside, get some sleep, shower in the morning. You can’t go to this thing smelling like a chimney. I’ll see what I can do about clothes for you, and we’ll get you to that brunch on time.”
“The favors,” I mumble.
“Jillian.” He lowers his forehead and raises his brows. His tone softens. “I wasn’t at the wedding you planned yesterday, but if it’s anything like the one I met you at—the wedding that was so over the top and the best three days of my life—then I can guarantee when the couple learns what happened to you tonight, they’ll be more than understanding that you don’t have parting favors for their guests.”
I sigh. If there’s one thing about this man, it’s that he has a way of swaying your attitude from one of dismay to conquering the impossible. Even when it’s the middle of the night and he’s tired, dirty, and has a serious case of helmet hair, he has the ability to influence me to do almost anything.
I lift my chin to the sky, and bow my back with closed eyes and whisper, “Fine.”
The wooly blue blanket is dragging on the pavers as I walk toward the front door. His house keys jingle in my hand as I put one in the lock, opening the front door. I turn around and notice Luke isn’t behind me.
I roll my eyes at the sight of him hopping into the backseat of his truck, puffing up what appears to be a jacket of sorts into a makeshift pillow. He closes the door, and I wait for a moment before realizing he’s making good on his offer. Luke is planning to sleep in his truck.
With a drop of my shoulders, I pad back down the pavers to his truck and knock on the back passenger door.
He opens it with his brows peaked with interest, and his hand is up, as if to stop me from making a declaration.
“Jillian, I meant it. You go inside, and I’ll sleep out here. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable with me in the house. Yes, we have history, but I’m still a man you barely know, and things didn’t end as we’d hoped. I understand if you need your space tonight. Thank you for offering, but I’m good.”
I scowl as I take the blanket off my shoulders and hand it to him. “I wasn’t offering for you to come inside. Just thought you might be cold.”
His lips form an O as he takes the blanket and nods. “Good. Thanks.” With a clearing of his throat, he leans forward. “I don’t have a spare bed, so you can take mine. Or the couch. Just don’t be startled by the cat. His name is Joe. I think he has anthropomorphism. Acts more human than tomcat. He’s a good man though. You should be aware that he likes to snuggle. The bedroom is best so you can lock him out.”
“Joe, the cat, is anthropomorphic and likes to snuggle. Good to know. Good night, Luke.”
I turn around and head back inside, close the front door, and stare at the dead bolt. It’s probably wrong to lock a man out of his own home, but he’s in his car and comfortable. If he needs to get in, he can knock. Unless I’m dead asleep and he has to get in for an emergency.
As I’m internally deciding the proper etiquette for a situation like this, I’m startled out of my skin as a soft, vibrating object rubs up against my leg. I scream as I thrust myself back so fast that my spine hits the wall, knocking over a picture frame that thumps my head before landing on the floor.
My hands are flush against the wall as I look down stiffly.
I can only assume this is Joe, the cat. He is sauntering around me in his feline glory, going straight for my ankle again and rubbing his orange tabby head up against it.
A loud pounding on the door makes my heart race for the second time in mere moments, and I shout, “Who’s there?”
“It’s Luke. Who the hell else would it be?”
I unlock the door and open it, clutching my chest as I catch my breath and tame my erratic heartbeat. “What do you want?”
His hand slams against the front door, pushing it open while those hypnotic eyes dart around the foyer. Rough and rugged, he takes on a proactive stance of protection.
“Are you okay? I heard you scream.”
“Joe tried to get to second base with my ankle.”
His fists unclench as he looks down at Joe with a condescending growl.
My back is pressed against the wall once again as Luke turns his attention from Joe and looks at me intently. His tall, heavy frame walks forward, stopping in front of me. I stare at the numbers on his chest and trace the shield emblem with my eyes. Anything to ignore the unhurried way he drops to the floor, forcing me to inhale sharply as he picks up the picture that had fallen.
His broad chest brushes against mine as he hangs the frame back on the nail just above my head. This close, I can feel the heat pouring from him, the scent of burned embers. This is a man who worked a long, tireless night putting out a fire. It’s a heady feeling that has me closing my eyes, for fear if I look up at him, he’ll see into my soul.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks.
“You walk into a pitch-black house that’s not yours and have something warm and hard rub against you.”
My comment has him smirking in a devilish way. I place my hands on his chest and push him back out the front door before he can make a joke about warm and hard things.
“Out!”
