by Katie Meyer
Luke tapped a pencil against the arm of his chair. “Yeah, actually. I go over there at night, after her son’s asleep, and then I leave before he wakes up. Hell, I even park down the street so no one sees my car in front of her house.” He hadn’t realized how much that bothered him until now. It was worth it to see her, but he was tired of feeling like a teenager trying to avoid curfew.
“Can I assume that these late-night visits are of an adult nature?”
“Yes, but if you repeat that to anyone, I’ll kill you and feed your body to the sharks.”
“Understood,” Grant acknowledged mildly. “So, you are having regular sex with a beautiful woman you like and admire, and that’s not working for you, is that right?”
“It’s stupid, I know.”
“Not really.”
Well that wasn’t the response he’d expected. “It’s not?”
“Not if you want more than that. Seems to me, you got a taste of something good and now you want the whole enchilada.”
Luke grimaced. “Can we not refer to Megan as if she’s something you can order off the value menu?”
“Sure,” Grant conceded with a nod Luke couldn’t witness. “But see, that just proves my point.”
“Which is what, exactly?” The late nights and lack of sleep must be catching up with him because he was not clueing in to whatever Grant was throwing down.
“That she’s not just a means to an end for you. If all you wanted was sex, or some entertainment, you’d be perfectly happy and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But if you value her as a person, if you are looking for a real relationship, then this halfway crap is just going to frustrate you. Giving you a glimpse of what could be, but without actually getting it.”
Wow. Luke hated to admit it, but what Grant was describing was exactly how he was feeling. Leaning back in his chair until the springs squeaked in protest, he tried to wrap his head around what this all meant. He’d always known he’d eventually want a real relationship, maybe even settle down, but that was down the road a ways. At least, he’d thought it was. Now that particular off-ramp was suddenly in sight and he didn’t know if he was ready for it.
“We’ve only known each other a few months and you make it sound like I want to pop the question and start putting up a white picket fence,” he protested.
“Do you?” Grant countered. When Luke didn’t answer right away he chuckled. “Maybe start with asking her out on a real date. Like dinner or something.”
Air whooshed out of his lungs. A date was infinitely less intimidating than a lifetime commitment. “I think I could manage that.” Asking Megan out would be the easy part. Getting her to agree to take their relationship into the public eye could prove difficult. He hoped not impossible, because despite his initial panic at the idea of forever, he couldn’t imagine a future without her.
* * *
Having a secret boyfriend was exhausting.
That was the reason Megan was using to justify her trip to the lounge for a fifth cup of coffee today. Between the late-night conversations and even later night bedroom activities, she was running way too many hours on way too little sleep.
Burning the candle at both ends wasn’t new to her, but she was starting to feel like the middle was melting, too. And yet, as she stirred cream and a hefty amount of sugar into her cup, she felt happy, despite the constant weariness. Luke made her happy. He was smart, insightful, considerate, and absolutely incredible in bed. But most of all, he made her feel confident in herself, less worried about the bumps of life that used to be a source of nearly constant anxiety. Just knowing she would see him later never failed to give her a bit of strength as she pushed through whatever hard moment came up over the course of a day.
Megan liked him, and she loved who she was becoming now that she was with him. She would have to catch up on sleep later—maybe over the Thanksgiving holiday. That was only a few more days. She could make it that long and then, in a month, she’d be in the mountains with plenty of time to relax while her parents entertained Owen. She just had to hang in there a while longer.
“Is there any left, or do I need to make a new pot?”
Luke’s voice brought a smile to her face, chasing away some of the weariness that clung to her. “Enough for one more cup, at least.” Turning, she found him leaning against the open door of the lounge, watching her.
“Good.” He straightened and headed for the machine. As he filled his cup, she got the impression he had something he wanted to say, so instead of heading back to her table in the conference room, she waited for him. When he just looked at her, opened his mouth and then closed it again, her anxiety rose.
“What is it?” Was he going to break up with her? Because, exhaustion aside, she wasn’t ready for things to end. Not yet.
“What is what?”
“Whatever has you so wound up you just put salt in your coffee instead of sugar.”
“I did?” He eyes the dark liquid suspiciously and took a cautious taste only to spit it right back into the cup. “It’s not funny,” he groused as she giggled. “That was really gross.” He dumped it in the sink and rinsed his mug, his actions jerky.
“It is, too. Besides, I warned you.”
“You did,” he admitted with a shrug. “Guess I like to learn things the hard way.”
She wanted to say something about how he could have trusted her, but that seemed much too deep for the situation. Especially since he still looked like something was wrong. “Seriously, Luke, what’s up? You’re kind of freaking me out here.” Pressing him might not be the best idea, but if it was bad news, she’d rather get it over with.
He turned the empty mug around in his hands. “I’ve just been thinking...about our situation.”
Here it was. She set her cup down on the table in front of her and braced her hands on the edge so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “And?” she prompted.
“And...” He paused, inhaled audibly, and then quickly blurted, “I want to go to dinner.”
“Um, okay...” She knew low blood sugar could have weird side effects, but all this because he was hungry?
“I mean I want you to go, too.” He pulled on his already loosened tie, undoing it. “With me. Together. Hell.” He yanked off the tie altogether, and bunched it in his hands. “What I’m trying to say...to ask, is...will you go out to dinner with me?”
“Like a date?”
“Exactly.” He nodded, relief clear in his features. “I know you wanted to see how things went before going out in public, but as far as I’m concerned, the only thing that could be better is not having to sneak around.”
Her mind spun, thoughts tripping over one another. “S-so you d-don’t want to break up?” she sputtered inanely.
“What? No.” He shook his head vehemently. “Do you?”
“No.” That was perhaps the only thing she was sure of. “But I don’t know if I’m ready for anything more yet, either.”
His face fell, and she wanted to kick herself. What was her problem? A sexy, smart, amazing man wanted to take her to dinner. That wasn’t a problem worth panicking over and yet she felt completely sideswiped by the idea. “Can I think about it and get back to you?” She tried to soften her answer with a smile, but it felt forced. “You caught me by surprise. Let me figure out some logistics, and we can talk about it tonight.”
“Yeah. Sure. Tonight.”
Megan could tell from his tone that her answer wasn’t what he’d been hoping for, but she couldn’t do any better. Not without careful consideration of what it would mean for her, for him, for Owen. This wasn’t the kind of decision she could make on a whim. Her heart wasn’t the only thing at stake.
“Listen, I’ve got to go,” he said, his expression shuttered. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
He brushed by her and, for once, the closene
ss of his body didn’t heat her blood. Instead, as she watched him walk away, all she felt was cold.
Chapter Twelve
If there was one thing Luke hated, it was feeling like a fool. And yet even knowing that pushing Megan had been foolish, he’d gone and done it anyway. Worse, he’d sprung the idea on her without warning. Maybe if he’d waited until they were at her house, alone, and had brought it up more carefully, she would have been open to the idea. Instead he’d just blurted it out. Still, he hadn’t expected the look of utter shock on her face. Nothing like asking a woman out and her getting that caught-in-the-headlights look to take a guy’s ego down a notch.
So, yeah, he was in a foul mood, one that didn’t improve when he had to work through lunch again. By the end-of-day bell, he was hungry, disappointed, and ready for a distraction.
“I’m going to go grab a sandwich at the diner,” he informed Ms. White at the front desk on his way out of the office. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
A few stragglers meandered the halls, but he was able to make it to the front doors without being stopped by anyone, probably thanks to the frown that felt permanently etched on his face. Pushing out into the open, he dragged in a deep breath of fall air. Florida might not get much in the way of sweater weather, but the break in the humidity was enough for him. The students seemed to feel the same way; an impromptu game of tag had broken out on the front lawn.
He stopped to watch for a moment, letting the simple joy of childhood wash over him. This was why he’d gotten into education in the first place, to see and be a part of that small snippet of life when anything was possible. Being with kids made him believe that, too. At least, most of the time.
Still starving, but with a better attitude, he turned to make the short walk to the restaurant and nearly crashed into someone. Taking a step back, he apologized automatically, recognizing her as Liz Robins, the mother of a student.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
She smiled, her brightly painted lips making the gesture garish. Highlighted hair, large dangling earrings, and nails long enough to be considered talons, had him mentally relegating her to the “tries too hard” category in his brain.
“It’s okay. No harm done.” She ran her hands down her body as if to illustrate her lack of injuries, or more likely, to show off the skintight athletic shirt and short tennis skirt she was wearing. “In fact, I was hoping to run into you, although not quite so literally.” She giggled at her own joke.
He forced a smile. “If you’d like to schedule an appointment, I’m sure Ms. White would be happy to set something up for you,” he hinted, stomach growling. “She knows my schedule better than I do.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.”
Of course not. Sighing, he checked his watch before turning his attention back to her and whatever subject was so important it couldn’t wait. “Is there an issue regarding Brian?” Her son was an average student, and not prone to trouble, but sometimes parents tried to get him to change a grade or to overrule a teacher’s decision. If that were the case, he’d insist she make an appointment so he could include the teacher in the discussion. He trusted his staff, and wouldn’t go over their heads without giving them a chance to defend their decision.
“Brian?” She wrinkled her nose in confusion. “No, I wanted to talk to you about the Scholar’s Banquet.”
“As soon as the details are finalized, we’ll have tickets for sale in the front office. There should be a handout going home about it next week, after the break.” He couldn’t wait to have that finished and out of the way.
“Right, okay. But what I really want to know is, if you’d like to go with me, as my date.” She fluttered her false eyelashes up at him, and he wondered if she knew that one was partially unglued. “This is my first year here in Paradise, and I thought it would just be so nice to attend the biggest event of the year on the arm of the man who makes it all happen.”
Was she serious? It was a school fundraiser, and even in a town as small as Paradise, it certainly didn’t qualify as the event of the year. But even if it was, he wouldn’t want to spend it with her. Of course, he couldn’t say that. Especially since he knew she had already made a generous donation to the school scholarship fund. She was rumored to have married well and divorced better; alienating her wouldn’t endear him to the powers that be.
“I’m flattered but—”
“Wonderful!”
He shook his head. How had he gone the last year with a nonexistent social life, and now been involved in not one but two dating conversations gone wrong in one day? “No, I mean I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
She frowned, her perfectly plucked eyebrows forming a narrow vee. “I don’t understand. Why can’t you?”
The truth would not be helpful, and might cost the school a major donor, so he seized on the first excuse that came to him. “I’m afraid I already have a date.”
“Really?” Disbelief heightened her pitch. “I hadn’t heard that. With whom?”
Hell. If he didn’t give her a name, she’d know he was lying. And Paradise was too small a town to just make one up. Everyone knew everyone in this place. Desperate, he said the only thing he could think of. “Megan Palmer.”
“Humph.” She straightened her shoulders and tossed a lock of artificially lightened hair over her shoulder. “That will be nice, I’m sure.”
“Yes...well, hopefully I’ll see you there.”
She made a noncommittal noise and waved to her son. “I’m sorry, I can’t keep chatting. Brian will be late for his karate appointment.”
Luke nodded. No point in reminding her that she was the one who’d approached him, not the other way around. Checking his watch, he headed back into the school. His twenty minutes were up and he’d lost his appetite anyway. Instead of hunger, anxiety chewed at his belly.
He’d just outed his relationship with Megan, and now he had to warn her before she found out from someone else.
* * *
Megan kept her phone within arm’s reach all day, hoping Luke would text or call, something to indicate that he wasn’t holding on to any resentment after their awkward conversation in the lounge. Still, when it finally buzzed in her pocket, she nearly dropped the plate she was washing. Shaking the suds from her hands, she yanked it out, hoping to see Luke’s name on the Caller ID. When she saw Cassie’s name, that little bubble of hope burst, just like the ones landing on the floor around her.
“Hey, Cassie, what’s up?” She tucked the phone in between her ear and her shoulder and went back to scrubbing the dinner dishes. She wanted to get everything done before Owen went to bed and Luke arrived.
“I think I should be asking you that question. Have any news you want to share?”
“Um, not that I can think of.” Megan set the plate in the drying rack and grabbed another. “Why?”
“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you and Luke are now an official couple, and he’s taking you to the school gala?”
“What?” She straightened so fast her phone slipped from its precarious spot and tumbled toward the sink. Dropping the dish, she bobbled the phone in soap-slicked hands before finally getting a solid grip.
“Are you okay?” Cassie’s disembodied voice came from the damp but not destroyed phone as Megan wiped it and her hands with a mostly clean dishtowel.
“I’m fine,” she answered automatically as she put the phone back to her ear.
“I heard a crash.”
“It was just a plate.” Surveying the broken pieces on the floor, Megan mentally calculated how long she had to clean it up before Owen finished his bath and he and Lily came looking for a bedtime snack.
“Are you sure? Did anyone get hurt?”
“Cassie, forget about the plate! Tell me what you heard about Luke and me.” She squatted and started picking up the bigger shards of p
ottery.
“Just what I said, that you and he are going to the Scholar’s Banquet together, as a couple. And...” Her friend continued, a hint of recrimination coloring her tone, “I have to say I’m a little annoyed that you didn’t tell me first.”
“I would have, if it were true.”
“It’s not?”
“Nope. And, really, you should know better than to believe everything you hear in this town.”
“You’re right, but this seemed reliable,” Cassie protested. “I heard it from a client this afternoon, Joyce Jacob. She’s a manicurist over at the Hot Sands Salon, and she said that Liz Robins had been in for a polish change and was complaining that you swooped in and stole Luke right from under her nose.”
“I did not!” Megan’s hands clenched in outrage, a prickle of pain slicing through her indignation. Looking down, she saw a spot of red pooling in her palm where one of the pottery shards had pierced the skin.
“I know, but that’s what she’s saying. Apparently, she asked Luke to the banquet, and he told her he couldn’t because he was already going with you.”
“Well, he’s not.” She grabbed a paper towel and pressed it to her hand. “So either she made the whole thing up, or he’s got some explaining to do.”
The doorbell rang before Cassie could weigh in, the possibility of which Megan thought most likely.
“Speak of the devil, that’s probably him,” she said, glancing at the kitchen clock. “He’s early. He never comes before Owen goes to bed.” This day was getting stranger and stranger, and she didn’t like it one bit. “I’ve got to go. I’ll let you know what happens.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” Megan assured her before hanging up. Rushing to the door, she found Owen had beaten her there. Wrapped in a towel and dripping water onto the floor, he peered through the side window.
“Hey, that’s Dr. Wright! Mom, Dr. Wright is here.” Owen’s excitement tugged at her heart. He adored his principal, often coming home from school quoting things Luke had said during assemblies or morning announcements. His obvious admiration fit right in with her own daydreams, making her wonder what if... But dreams and reality were rarely the same thing, and she needed to protect her son from the disappointment that came from confusing the two.