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The words were clipped. Strained. Rose looked to Luke to find his lips twisted in what looked like distaste. She knew it was probably difficult for him to give Alex any form of credit, at the moment.
“I know he does.” She pulled in a deep breath. “But he isn’t what’s best for me. You are.”
Luke’s expression softened.
***
The sun was setting by the time the car reached the long driveway leading up to the house. Palm trees surrounded the white building, which was much smaller than Luke’s house in Winnetka. It was only two floors, and there were considerably fewer rooms than at the home where he spent most of his time, but he knew the price tag had been similar. Having a permanent residence here was expensive, as his mother reminded him frequently, and that meant they needed to use it as much as they could. His parents visited often when the Senate was out of session, and Luke had come with them a handful of times in college and beforehand. He’d always wanted to bring Rose here.
He led her up the path through the pristinely maintained lawn and to the dark wooden front door, and he released one of the suitcases to fish for his keys. He swallowed nervously as he opened the door, and he hoped she wouldn’t notice.
They stepped into the thin hallway and followed its hardwood floor into the open-concept kitchen and dining room. Vases of fresh flowers rested on the table beside the glass patio-side wall and on the island near the kitchen counter—pale pink carnations and yellow lilies and white roses. Luke bit the inside of his cheek. His mother knew that the last had been his flower of choice for Rose. It had started out as a bit of a private joke when he’d first allowed himself to hope that she would marry him. He’d thought of her taking his last name, which was French for “the white,” and he’d proposed to her with a single white rose along with the diamond ring, hoping she would get the idea.
Now, he wanted to toss the vases out before she could see them, but he knew it was too late. She was at his side, after all, taking in the same view. The beach beyond the glass wall and the patio doors, the staircase to the second floor, and the doors set into the wall across from where they stood, which led to the master bedroom and bathroom.
“It’s beautiful.”
He turned to face her to find that her blue eyes were wide as she scanned the house, and the breathlessness in her voice both made him smile and sent a hot ripple of desire through him. All at once, she turned and threw her arms around his neck, and he released the suitcase handles and embraced her, breathing in her warmth and the scent of vanilla and cinnamon.
“Thank you for all this,” she said. “It feels like I’m going to wake up and none of it will be real.”
“It’s all real.” And all yours, he added mentally. If you’ll stay with me.
He’d wanted to give her the world for as long as he’d known her. This house was no exception. He’d been planning to bring her here on their honeymoon, and he’d already had the plane tickets booked when she’d given him his ring back.
“Do you want something to eat?” he asked as he pulled away.
“Yes, please. I’m starving. That flight was absurdly long.”
Luke nodded. “Mom had the fridge and cabinets stocked, so we should have a wide range of things to choose from.” He left the bags on the floor and moved over to rifle through one of the polished wooden cabinets. Boxes of uncooked pasta greeted him along with a variety of sauces, bags of flour and yeast, cooking oils, and every kind of spice he could imagine. He left the cabinet open, and Rose went to peruse it as he made his way to the fridge. He found the drawers overflowing with fruits and vegetables and the shelves lined with wines and sparkling juices, and he reminded himself to thank his mother later for providing so many options, including non-alcoholic ones.
“You weren’t kidding,” said Rose with a soft laugh. “She’s… thorough.”
“What sounds good to you?” asked Luke.
Biting her lip, Rose surveyed the cabinet once more. “Some kind of pasta sounds amazing. Maybe with—no…” She trailed off and tucked a lock of strawberry-blond hair behind her ear, and Luke raised a brow.
“With what?”
“I don’t want it to be too much trouble.”
He watched her, saying nothing, just as she’d done to him in the car. He knew if he conveyed that he didn’t plan on giving up, she would answer eventually. She let out a heavy breath.
“You used to tell me you’d teach me how to make that bread. Your family’s recipe.”
Luke’s mouth twitched toward a smile. His parents had taught him a decent amount about cooking before he’d worked on developing the skill on his own, and he’d baked homemade bread for Rose several times while they had been together. He was so used to having his life planned out for him that he liked to take charge where he could, and he’d always enjoyed doing so in the kitchen. Part of giving Rose the world had meant doing the little things for her when possible—opening doors, pulling out chairs, making foods he knew she loved, and taking her places that made her smile.
He hoped the request for the bread meant they were on the right track again.
“We can absolutely do that,” he said.
Chapter Fifteen
As Luke prepared and mixed the flour and oil and yeast and everything else, Rose watched him from one of the barstools at the kitchen island. She paid attention to measurements and committed them to memory. She’d never spent a lot of time in kitchens, but when she found recipes she liked, she made it a point to learn them. This one had always been a favorite, but she’d never gotten the chance to study how he made it before they had separated.
“Want to knead it?”
She looked up at the question to find him watching her, and she nodded. She stood and made her way around the island to stand beside him, and she washed her hands in the sink set into the counter before refocusing on the dough in the mixing bowl. As she reached out for it, he laid his hands on top of hers and guided them, pressing down gently but firmly to show her the right amount of pressure to apply as she kneaded the soft, sticky dough. Bits of it clung to her hands when they’d finished.
