by CP Smith
She blinked, as confused as he was by his reply, then turned on her heel and quacked her way up the stairs.
“Fuck me,” Luke sighed, dropping his head back, fighting for control. “Merry fucking Christmas.”
Six
I skidded to a halt in front of my mirror and groaned at my reflection. Why couldn’t I be a silky nightgown kind of woman? I mean, if I was gonna get caught in my sleepwear, something sexy was preferable to my mother’s flannel PJs.
“You still wouldn’t have worn it,” I told my reflection and began stripping. I slept in the nude while I lived in Florida, but with what the temperature was here, and no one seeing me in the mornings, I’d worn them for comfort as much as needing to feel close to my mother.
Just find something attractive and get downstairs.
“Lucas Deacon Knight,” I mumbled. It was a great name, and it fit him to a T.
I knew I would run into him again, but his showing up on my doorstep felt a little like Jane had said. Destiny.
I pulled on a fuzzy pink sweater and jeans, then tried to manage my heavy mane of curly hair that never wanted to cooperate. I settled on a ponytail since it was quickest, then looked longingly at my cosmetic bag. I didn’t have time for makeup, but a coat of lip gloss was a must, so I dug inside until I found my favorite nude shade with just a hint of strawberry flavoring.
I started to head back downstairs, but I spied my perfume sitting on the counter, so I doused myself liberally with the soft scent.
Here goes nothing.
I found Luke where I’d left him, standing by the front door. As I descended the staircase, he studied me with a cool, measuring gaze, but then his jaw seemed to tighten and his eyes flared. My heart sped up as he took in my measure, and I stumbled a bit on the bottom step from his expression.
Is that appreciation I see in his eyes or loathing?
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take that long,” I apologized.
“Just show me to your basement,” he bit out on a half-growl.
I swallowed hard, nervous about his demeanor, then walked toward the kitchen with my heart in my throat. The room felt charged with strong emotions, the most predominant one being anger.
My heart sank.
Definitely loathing.
Somehow, I’d insulted him.
I’d left the light on downstairs, so when I opened the basement door, I kept right on going down the steps, taking deep breaths to control the nervous shudders rolling through my body.
“You don’t have to come with me. I can find it from here,” he mumbled as he took the steps two at a time, walking past me without as much as a glance in my direction.
I blinked. He was dismissing me.
I followed him with my eyes as he headed for the furnace, wondering what I had done. Maybe he’s just having a bad morning? I had called him out on Christmas Eve.
“I’m happy to stay and help,” I said, smiling brightly, hoping a cheerful tone would break the ice. “I could hand you your tools.”
I’d walked up behind him as I spoke, then leaned down to look inside the furnace as he took the panel off. He turned to look at me as I scrunched my nose at all the cobwebs hanging from the wires and fittings. My brother’s constant traveling could be seen in every inch of our parents’ home. He had no time for general maintenance, let alone having the roof replaced. Guess it was time for me to learn how to use a screwdriver.
When I turned my head to look at Luke, my breath caught at how close I was to his face. I could smell his distinct scent again, and had to stop myself before I took a deep breath to pull it into my lungs. At this distance, he would know what I was doing.
Surprisingly, he sucked a deep breath into his own lungs as our gazes locked, then his eyes darted to my lips before flashing with anger.
“I’ve got it covered,” he snapped intensely, then went back to work, dismissing me yet again as if the idea of speaking to me was distasteful.
I swallowed hard and backed up a step, humiliated. “Is my brother hitting your truck the reason why you’re so rude to me, or are you generally this much of a scrooge?” I bit out in self-defense. I’d been nothing but nice to this man, but he was just an asshole in Prince Charming’s clothing.
Lesson learned: if they look that good, there’s probably a reason why they’re still single.
Luke’s head snapped around, confusion written across the blankness of his eyes. “What?” he asked almost in a whisper, then his brows rose in a look of disbelief. “What do you mean, your brother?”
“You know what? Never mind. I’m sorry I bothered you on Christmas Eve,” I returned with heat, backing up toward the stairs. “I’ll get out of your hair while you fix my furnace. You can show yourself out when you’re done. Just bill me, and I’ll get the check right out to you.”
I turned briskly, sprinting up the stairs. I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. As far away from my stupid attraction as I could get.
As I hit the top step, I heard him mumble, “Jesus,” just as my cell phone began to ring. I ran to it like it was a lifeline, praying someone needed me immediately so I wouldn’t have to face Luke again.
It said Gregg calling, and I sighed in relief. He somehow always knew when I needed him.
“Miss me already?” I asked cheerfully, my voice steady even though my hands were shaking with anger and humiliation. Luke was probably downstairs chuckling over the foolish woman who’d dared flirt with him.
“Anna?” a familiar voice asked.
“Darryl?” It was my brother’s bandmate who’d been more than a little obvious about his feelings for me. He’d even gone as far as flying to Florida once to see me. I’d made it clear over and over that I wasn’t interested, but it never seemed to sink in.
“Yeah . . .” he said, his voice hesitant.
The hair on my neck began to rise. Something was wrong with Gregg, I could feel it. I knew it as clearly as any biological twin knew when their other half had been hurt.
“What’s happened?” I cried out.
“Anna—” he was hedging, so I cut him off.
“Just spit it out,” I shouted, near hysterical. “What happened to my brother?”
“Car accident. We were headed home to surprise you for Christmas, and got caught in a snow storm just outside of Springfield, Missouri.” I swallowed past the knot in my throat, petrified to ask him if Gregg had survived.
I heard the sound of Luke coming quickly up the stairs and turned to look at him. He paused in the doorway, his gaze sharp as he watched me. I couldn’t tear my eyes off his, needed them to anchor me to reality as I asked, “Is Gregg dead?” in a small voice.
Darryl responded immediately. “No. But it doesn’t look good.”
My legs gave out then, but before I hit the floor, Luke scooped me into his arms and held on tight, mumbling, “I’ve got you.”
“What hospital?” I asked on autopilot, thankful for the strength of Luke’s arms.
“Mercy Hospital in Springfield. He’s in surgery now. I’ll call you when he’s out.”
“I’m coming. I’ll leave in the next hour. I just need to rent a car, then I’ll hit the road.”
“It’s my fault,” Darryl whispered. “I was driving, giving him shit about how he already had an accident this week, and I lost control.”
I shook my head, which had come to rest on Luke’s chest somehow. “It’s not your fault; it’s mine. I gave him hell about leaving me all alone at Christmas.” I choked on the words. If my brother died, I’d never forgive myself. “If I hadn’t been so selfish, he’d be safe in St. Louis.”
Seven
Luke held on tightly as Anna shivered in his arms. The despair in her voice rocked him to his core. He knew what she was going through, knew how she felt, and the pain he kept locked away the other eleven months out of the year rushed to the forefront. But he beat it back so he could focus on the woman trembling in his arms.
“I’ll call you when I’m on my way,”
she said, her voice emotionless. She was in shock. He knew the signs.
“I need to find a rental car,” she mumbled, pushing out of his arms, looking for all the world like a lost child. She was in no shape to drive the three hours it would take to reach Springfield.
“You shouldn’t be driving this upset,” Luke stated.
She glanced back, looking right through him as if he were a ghost. Then her bottom lip began to tremble. “I . . . don’t have a choice.”
“Anna,” Luke started to argue with her, but her shoulders began to shake as the tears she’d been holding back began to fall.
“He’s all I have left in the world,” she sobbed. “I’ll walk if I have to. I’m not letting him die alone,” she cried out, then shoved past him through the kitchen and headed for the staircase.
Luke reacted on instinct and followed her up the stairs. “You’re not heading out on those slick roads on your own.”
She spun around at his voice, surprised he’d followed her. “It’s Christmas Eve, Mr. Knight. My parents are dead. My friends have all moved away, save one, and she went to Dallas for Christmas with her husband. I have no one I can call on to travel with me.”
He could hear the helplessness in her remark, knew how alone she felt in this world, and he immediately wanted to be the one person she could count on.
“My name’s Luke to you, not Mr. Knight,” he answered, closing the distance between them. “And you’ve got me. I’ll take you to Springfield.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “But you don’t even like me. Why would you help me?”
To answer her ridiculous question, his hand whipped out and closed around her neck before he slammed his lips to hers. Her mouth opened in surprise, so Luke took the advantage given to him and tasted her fully. She froze at first, then melted into his arms as he drank freely from her silken lips. She tasted exactly like he’d expected her to. Fresh and innocent, with a hint of passion that was as addictive as any drug. But more than that, she tasted like hope.
“I’m going with you, so stop arguing,” he whispered against her lips. He’d wanted her from the first moment he laid eyes her. There was no way in hell he would turn his back on her now. Not when she needed him most. He was going and that was final.
He expected her to fight him anyway, but her eyes filled with tears instead, relief written clearly across her face. “I’m so confused. I thought you hated me.”
“No. I hated that you were unavailable,” he answered, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I’ve never gone after another man’s woman, but I was seriously considering it where you were concerned. It pissed me off that I had no self-control, and I took it out on you.”
Her brows pulled together in confusion. “Unavailable?”
“You and your brother don’t exactly look alike,” he pointed out. “I assumed he was your man. It wasn’t until you referred to him as your brother that I clued in.”
The mention of Gregg brought bleakness back to her eyes, so he wrapped her up tight in his arms to give her what solace he could. “Thank you for offering to go with me. But won’t your family mind?”
He tensed at the mention of his family. He kept clear of them for his own reasons, mainly the guilt he carried. They wouldn’t miss him any more this year than they had the last four years.
“It’ll be fine. Get your things together, and I’ll be back to pick you up in twenty minutes.” She nodded and began to pull away from him. “Hey,” he said, gently grabbing her chin with his fingers. She looked up at him, searching his features. “Don’t give up hope. Miracles happen daily, but during this holiest of seasons, they happen hourly. Have faith,” he lied. He knew God wasn’t listening, but he wouldn’t tell Anna that. Maybe she had a direct line to the man upstairs that he didn’t. Because he sure as hell knew God hadn’t listened to his prayers when he’d begged him to spare his nephew’s life.
It seemed appropriate that the skies had turned gloomy as Luke and I headed down the turnpike toward Missouri. Luke had been true to his word and returned within twenty minutes with a bag packed and a different vehicle: a silver SUV he used when he wasn’t working.
I’d thrown whatever I came across that looked clean into my suitcase, then used my arm to literally clear my sink of what I needed in a single swipe. I wasn’t entirely sure anything I’d packed matched, or that it was winter clothing. I might have a suitcase full of shorts and T-shirts.
I clutched my phone in a firm grip as we crept along safely through the snow, my knuckles turning white as I willed the damn thing to ring, praying Darryl would call me with good news.
Peeking a glance at Luke as he navigated the Christmas Eve traffic, my eyes dropped to his mouth. I hadn’t had time to process the kiss we’d exchanged. Hadn’t had time to process the fact that he’d kissed me at all, or admitted he’d been an asshole because he’d thought I was involved with my brother. That made me smile. Gregg would get a kick out of the fact he had kept a man from asking me out because he thought we were a couple rather than siblings.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Luke asked.
My eyes darted to his. “What?”
“You were smiling.”
Oh, dear Lord. I wasn’t about to admit I’d been thinking about him kissing me.
“I was thinking about Gregg.”
“I take it you’re close?” he asked, looking at me briefly before turning back to the road with sharp eyes. The closer we got to Missouri, the worse the conditions became, so Luke didn’t take his eyes off the road for long.
Answering him gave me an excuse to study his face, which had the added benefit of taking my mind off the fact that Darryl hadn’t called back.
“As close as any full-blooded siblings. We were born one day apart to drug addicted mothers at the same hospital. Gregg and I had the same caseworker, who, thankfully for us, had been working with the Stubbs to get them approved as foster parents. They’d never had children of their own and decided that fostering might fill that void.”
“They gave two drug addicted newborns to people with no experience with children?”
“Yes. Most people don’t want to take on babies who are born addicted to drugs. But the Stubbs weren’t most people. They were super parents from the moment they held us until the day they left this earth.”
I caught his lips twitching slightly before he mumbled, “Super parents?”
“Beaver Cleaver parents. Dad had retired after a long career as an attorney, so they devoted all their time to Gregg and me. Mom made sure we had dinner together every night. They never missed a school function. Both sat on the board of the PTA every year, and they took us on vacations every break so we were well traveled. So you see, super parents.”
“Sounds like,” he mumbled.
“What about your family?” I asked.
His body stiffened at the question, then he looked down at the gauges on the dash and mumbled, “We need gas.”
I could take a hint as well as the next person. He wasn’t willing to talk about his family, yet, so I let it go.
“So, you’re a heat and air guy?” If his family was off limits, I could wait. But I needed to know more about him, since his tongue had been in my mouth, after all.
“I’m a general contractor. I was covering for a friend who owns Green Country Heat and Air.”
“So, you oversee construction?”
“Yep.”
“Commercial or residential?”
“Residential,” he answered, then looked at me. “What about you?”
“I just finished my master’s degree in occupational therapy, but I haven’t found a job yet.”
His eyes slid to mine for a moment, then back to the road. “Are you looking for work here or out of state?”
There was something in the way he held himself. As if he was holding his breath as he waited for my answer.
“Here. I’ve always wanted to work at the Little Lighthouse.”
His posture relaxed as suddenly as it had
stiffened. “The non-profit school for mentally and physically disabled children?”
“Yeah.”
Luke turned his head and looked at me for a long moment, then turned his eyes back to the road.
“What?” I asked.
“Just wondering when you’re gonna sprout wings.”
I blinked. “Pardon?”
He glanced my way again, scanning me from head to toe. “Angels have wings, and I’m pretty fucking sure you are one.”
Eight
“I’m no angel, Luke,” Anna stated as he pulled off the interstate for gas. “But for the grace of God, I could have been one of those children because of my mother’s drug use. I’m just giving back.”
At the mention of God’s grace, Luke threw his SUV into park a little harder than he should have, and Anna raised a brow. “Did I say something to upset you?”
Four years of pain and guilt, of keeping his mouth shut so he didn’t upset his family, suddenly came rushing to the surface. “Explain to me why God spares some children and not others? Why He would inflict pain—or any disabilities for that matter—if He’s so full of grace?” Luke asked, staring across the gas station, not really seeing those around him.
He’d called her an angel because innocence and purity seeped from her like an aura. Angelic, like he’d said. But she was too sweet and trusting for this bleak world in his opinion.
“Only God can answer that,” she said cautiously, watching him. “But I believe that children like those who attend the Little Lighthouse are put on earth to teach us how to care for one another. When children with disabilities love you, it’s unconditional. They don’t know how to hold grudges or hate. They just know how to love, and in return, they teach those of us around them to love freely.”
His chest burned with the one question he wanted answered. The question he’d needed an answer to for four years, yet no one so far could give him one. “What about children who die? Explain to me how that teaches us anything except defeat and pain,” he asked vehemently.