Real Men Don't Quit

by Coleen Kwan

  Luke tousled her curls. “I couldn’t manage without you.”

  “You’re already making dinner,” Tyler said. “You don’t have to entertain Chloe as well.”

  Tyler kept her gaze on Luke. She seemed concerned. That he’d run out of patience with her daughter? “It’s fine,” he stressed. “Why don’t you go relax or something?”

  She hesitated a few more seconds before lifting her shoulders. “Okay. I do have some soldering to finish. I’ll be in my workshop, so just yell if you need any help.”

  “No worries. Chloe and I have everything under control here.”

  Chloe seemed to be fascinated by a man in the kitchen. She was determined to help him, confident he couldn’t manage without her. With a lot of discreet assistance from him, she washed lettuce, made vinaigrette, picked off basil leaves, and set the table.

  “Look, Mumma, I’m cooking!” she declared, waving her wooden spoon when Tyler poked her head into the kitchen a while later.

  “That’s wonderful, baby.” Tyler glanced at Luke. “Everything okay in here?”

  “We’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh.” She seemed a bit nonplussed as she inspected the kitchen. “I had these visions of the room covered in spaghetti sauce and Chloe breaking dishes and you tearing your hair out in frustration.”

  The kitchen was tidier than when she’d left. He had washed up the dirty glasses in the sink, pinned her bills to the notice board, swept the floor, and emptied the garbage bin. On the stove bubbled a pot of bacon and tomato sauce, while the cleared table was laid for three, complete with placemats.

  “My hair’s safe for now,” he said. “Go back and finish your soldering.”

  “Okay.” But the doubtful look lingered on her face as she withdrew.

  A while later Chloe called her to dinner. Her face flushed from her exertions, the girl danced around her mother with bubbling anticipation.

  “You gotta sit here,” she said bossily, steering Tyler to a seat. “I got you the moo-cow glass.”

  “Thank you, darling. Wow, everything looks fantastic.” She waved at the pasta, sauce, and salad on the table. “I never knew you were such a good cook, baby.”

  Chloe looked set to burst with pride. “Luke helped me,” she mumbled before flinging her arms around Luke’s leg.

  At her fervent embrace, Luke’s heart swelled. But as he took in her trusting eyes, unease twitched in his gut. How could he live up to her expectations? He was bound to disappoint her one day—lose his patience, forget something, say the wrong thing. He couldn’t be more to Chloe than just a nice buddy.

  “Glad I could help, moppet.” He patted her shoulder and glanced at Tyler.

  Tyler’s expression had grown slightly fixed. Had she caught a glimpse of his doubts? Did she worry that her daughter was having too much fun with him? Trying to shrug off his apprehensions, he disentangled Chloe from his legs and helped her into a chair. “Let me serve you,” he said to Tyler. Maybe he’d misinterpreted her, he thought. Maybe she’d been thinking of something else completely.

  …

  Throughout dinner, Tyler couldn’t help but notice the rapport between her daughter and Luke. Chloe blossomed under his attention, and Luke’s affection for her appeared quite genuine. She should have been glad. Chloe needed more positive male role models in her life, and she seemed to have connected with their hunky next-door neighbor. But Tyler only felt a growing uneasiness, which spurted each time Luke caught her eye and grinned, making her heart flip over. She was just as enthralled with him as Chloe, but, unlike her three-year-old daughter, she could foresee what would happen in the near future.

  Luke would finish his book, or he would decide he needed a change of environment, or his sister would convince him to move back to Goulburn. Whichever way she diced it up, the outcome was the same. Luke was going to leave, and soon.

  She didn’t have a problem with that, even though last night with him had been beyond sensational, beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She’d always known theirs was only a short-term hookup. But Chloe didn’t know Luke was just temporary, and here she was beaming and pulling faces at him and having more fun at dinner than she’d ever had. Tyler’s heart twisted. Poor baby.

  When dinner was over, Luke insisted on washing up while Tyler supervised Chloe’s bath. She took her time with Chloe, thinking Luke might get bored with waiting, but when Chloe was ready for bed and wanted to say good night to Luke, he was still in the kitchen. The dishes had all been washed and packed away, the table was clean, and all the counters were wiped down and sparkling.

  “Good night, Miss Moppet.” Hunkering down, he tweaked her cheek.

  She responded by hugging him fiercely. “Night, night. See you tomorrow.”

  Tyler led her away, her heart panging at her daughter’s last words. Would she see Luke tomorrow? Somehow she was nervous of the night ahead. She read Chloe two books more than she usually did at bedtime and waited until she was soundly asleep before quitting the bedroom.

  Luke’s tall figure loomed in the narrow hallway. Tyler squeaked. “You startled me.”

  “Sorry,” he murmured. Stepping closer, he nodded toward Chloe’s closed bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?”

  “Sure.” She began to slide away, but he simply closed the gap between them. She stood there, her breathing accelerating as his nearness befuddled her brain. “Uh, do you want coffee or something?”

  “I’ll take the something.” Reaching out, he ran his fingers from the top of her shoulder down the length of her arm. “I’ve been waiting patiently all day for this moment.”

  The sensuous heat in his gaze thrilled her, but then she reminded herself of the little girl sleeping just a few meters away. “L-Luke, I don’t think this is a good idea.” The tremor in her voice surprised her. Until now, she hadn’t realized how stirred up she was.

  A faint line appeared on his forehead. His fingers stilled around her wrist but didn’t fall away. “Oh? Care to tell me why?”

  The caress of his skin against hers scattered her wits. She cleared her throat. What were her arguments again? A second ago they’d been so solid, but now they’d blown away. “I don’t want Chloe getting too attached to you,” she murmured. “I don’t want her to be disappointed when you move away.”

  His clever black eyes scrutinized her. “So you never let her form attachments simply because you don’t want her hurt?”

  Tyler drew in a breath. It hadn’t escaped her notice that he hadn’t contradicted her about his leaving. She’d said when, not if. “I’m her only parent. I have to protect her.”

  “Yes, and you do a damn fine job of that.” He circled her wrist, his firm fingers locating her jumping pulse. “But Tyler, you can’t cut off her friendships just because you assume they won’t last.”

  She couldn’t think straight when he literally had his finger on her pulse. Was she too overprotective of Chloe? Wasn’t it a good thing that she’d opened up so naturally with Luke? “It’s just that I’m not used to her connecting so easily with a man that I, uh, I…”

  “Have the hots for?” His lips quirked teasingly.

  Heat slicked through her. His mouth was so sensual and inviting. Memories of what that mouth had done to her last night roiled her blood. She shuffled her feet, trying to rein in her bawdy urges.

  “Yeah, okay, you’re hot.”

  Laughter sparkled in his eyes. “Whoa, I’d better not let your compliments go to my head.”

  She couldn’t help chuckling. “You should know I don’t hand out these compliments to just anyone.”

  “Well, I have some very complimentary things to say to you too, hot thing.”

  Winding his free arm around her waist, he drew her slowly in to him. His fingers laced with hers as he bent his head and began to whisper in her ear. The honeyed words slipped from his tongue and poured into her, as potent as the most intimate caress, coupling with his body twined around hers to reduce her to a melting pot of
desire. She found herself leaning in, the better to soak in his verbal lovemaking. Oh boy, the things he could do with that mouth of his…

  As he continued his murmuring, he pressed her up against the wall and roamed his hands over her curves. Soon, she couldn’t stop herself. She wrapped one leg around his and popped the top button of his shirt, angling closer to brush her lips against his skin.

  Luke’s voice faltered. “We should probably carry this on in your bedroom, angel,” he muttered, lifting his head to stare into her eyes.

  The question in his expression was too frank to miss. It was up to her. If she wanted, she could turn him down and send him away. If she did, she’d protect her daughter and herself. That would be the sensible thing to do. But hell, she’d never been the practical type. She’d always been bold, ready to follow her passions. And right now all her passions were screaming out for Luke.

  “I hope you ate enough at dinner.” She hitched her other leg around him, causing him to cup his hands around her bum. “’Cause you’re going to need plenty of energy tonight.”

  His face darkened with lust. “You’re on. Let’s see who tires first.”

  Oh, she did love a challenge.

  …

  Luke pulled up at the Rocking Horse Motel, wishing he were anywhere but here. Worn cinder block buildings formed a U-shape around a central courtyard. His dad’s aging Mercedes sat outside one of the nondescript units. Hauling in a breath, he rapped on the faded door.

  “Son, it’s good to see you.” Patrick Maguire greeted him with an unctuous smile. He was more informally dressed, without his jacket or tie, though he still had on a white dress shirt, pressed trousers, and polished shoes.

  Luke grunted a greeting and reluctantly stepped inside. The unit was a nightmare of striped wallpaper, floral nylon bedspreads, and poo-brown carpet. An aura of greasy apathy hung over the joint. Luke had dossed down in some pretty dodgy places, but this motel gave him the creeps.

  “How about a cup of tea?” his father eagerly offered.

  Luke glanced at the chipped mugs and stained jug on the sideboard and shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

  His father sank down on the vinyl sofa, so Luke had no choice but to take the matching plastic armchair. The armrests were sticky, and it smelled.

  “Let’s cut to the chase,” Luke said, impatient to get the visit over. “Are you really destitute?”

  His father lurched back, eyebrows lifting. “That’s a harsh term to use.”

  “How would you describe your circumstances, then?”

  Patrick clasped and unclasped his fingers in his lap. “I’ve had a run of bad luck. People I thought were trustworthy turned out to be otherwise. Investments I thought were fireproof failed. And then I became ill. You can’t control that.”

  In other words, everyone else was to blame, and Patrick was just a victim of bad luck. “You drank and smoked,” Luke pointed out. “You couldn’t control that?”

  “A man has to have some pleasures. Otherwise what’s the point in living?”

  Luke clenched the grubby armrests. “What exactly do you want from me? And tell me the plain truth, or I’ll walk out of here.”

  Patrick sighed and crossed his legs. “I hear you inherited the house from your mother.”

  As the meaning behind his father’s words dawned on him, Luke gaped. “Don’t tell me you want to move into Mum’s house!”

  “I don’t see why not. You don’t live there, and it’s just standing empty.”

  A growl rumbled in his chest. “And you think you can just wander in and put your feet up? In the same house you left Mum with five kids to look after? Do you know how she struggled to pay the rent? How she juggled two jobs and went without just to keep a roof over our heads? And now you have the gall to assume you can weasel back in when it suits you.” He heaved himself to his feet, glowering at his father. “Helen was right. To hell with you.”

  As he brushed past the sofa, his father grasped at his hand. “Wait…don’t go.”

  Luke stared down. The old man was quivering, genuine fear obliterating the habitual overconfidence. The hands that clung to him were spotted and frail, the black eyes that gazed up at him were moist and abject. Pain tore at Luke’s insides. He longed to fling his father’s hold aside and storm out of this depressing motel unit. No one would blame him if he did.

  No one except himself.

  Gritting his teeth, he snapped, “What?”

  “I-I’ve got nowhere else to go.” His father kneaded his hands together. “I thought—I thought one of the twins would step in, but it seems they can’t help me at the moment.”

  So he’d been trying to butter up Rosie and Mags, but in a crisis the sisters would always band together. Which meant he was the only hope for his father. But if he helped him, he’d cop some flak from his sisters.

  “There is no way in hell I’m letting you live in Mum’s house.” He braced his hands on his hips to emphasize his point.

  “It was just a suggestion.” Patrick seemed to shrivel on the cracked sofa.

  How can this person be my parent? Luke wondered. This pathetic, opportunistic liar was his father, the same man who’d given him his dark looks, his height, and, most perplexingly, his love of words and reading. Shaking his head, he walked across the room, unwilling to dwell on the similarities they shared.

  He turned back to his father. “Do you want to settle around here or go back to Sydney?”

  “This town is as good as anywhere else. I have a few old friends I might look up.”

  “If you’re set on living around here, I’ll see about renting a place for you.”

  Patrick sat up, hopeful. “What kind of place?”

  “I don’t know.” Luke gave an impatient shrug. “An apartment or something.”

  “A garage for the Mercedes would be good.”

  So would a bit of humility and gratefulness. The thought snarled through his brain, but he pushed it away. One thing he knew for sure—his father was never going to change.

  “If I do this for you,” Luke continued, “you have to obey my rules. Number one is that you don’t approach Helen or any of my sisters. I won’t have you badgering them. Number two is that you don’t go near Mum’s house. Got all that?”

  “Fine, fine.” Patrick nodded quickly.

  Luke grimaced at the speed with which his father agreed. Now that the guy had got what he wanted, he wasn’t interested in contacting his daughters or revisiting his old family home. He was only interested in himself, as always. Luke spun around and headed for the door. He had to get out of here before he changed his mind.

  “You’ll hear from me in a week or so when I’ve organized something. In the meantime, I’ll take care of your motel bill at the front desk.”

  “Luke…”

  Pausing in the doorway, Luke glanced back. “Yeah?”

  His father’s cheeks grew slightly mottled. “Um, I don’t suppose you have any spare cash on you?”

  Luke’s gut constricted. So much for hoping his father had something personal to say to him. He’d be waiting a long time for that. He rummaged in his wallet and slapped a couple of fifty-dollar notes on the side table. Then, feeling like he’d been royally screwed, he quit the motel room.

  …

  “Wishing you hadn’t let me drag you along?” Tyler asked Luke as they sat in the beer garden of the Red Possum while Ally and Nate went to place their orders at the bistro.

  Luke turned to face her. “No, I’m glad you’re so bossy.” He ran the tip of his forefinger lightly down her arm. “And I’m glad not to be alone this evening. I’d just work myself up for nothing.”

  Warmth spread through her, not only from the caress of his finger, but also from the knowledge that Luke had trusted her enough to confide in her. He’d told her about his horrible visit with his father that afternoon. He hadn’t exactly gushed, but from the stress lines pulling at his face and the darkness in his eyes, she’d filled in the blanks. She’d lo
nged to hug him fiercely and take him to her bed so she could make him forget temporarily, but Chloe had been in the house, and she was due to meet Ally and Nate in half an hour. So she’d more or less ordered Luke to come along, and to her surprise, he’d agreed.

  “You did the right thing about your father,” she said. “I don’t know if I could be that magnanimous, but you can.”

  “So I simply accept that he’ll never change?” Luke’s eyes grew bleak. “That the only reason he sought me out was for what he could suck from me?”

  “That’s his loss. He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.” She paused, and his troubled expression made her lean into him, instinctively wanting to offer him physical comfort. “Luke, you’re doing your best. More than your best.”

  He pulled her closer. “Am I? But what about Helen? She’ll accuse me of being disloyal to her and my mum.”

  “You’ll have to tell her, of course.” Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Yeah.” His body relaxed against hers as he shifted to better accommodate her head. “This is nice. I thought we weren’t allowed to do this kind of thing in front of Chloe.”

  Lifting her head, Tyler checked on Chloe, who had run to the play corner of the beer garden as soon as they had arrived. She and another young boy were busy drawing on the chalkboard. “She’s too preoccupied to notice,” Tyler said, wanting only to return to Luke. The angles of his body were made for her, the way they matched her shape so perfectly.

  “Good, because I wouldn’t want her to see this.” His breath warmed her skin as he lifted her hair and nuzzled at her neck. Her pulse leaped, all her senses instantly ensnared by the lure of his lips.

  “Um…” She closed her eyes in sheer bliss as his mouth coasted over her earlobes.

  “Harrumph.” Someone nearby cleared her throat ostentatiously.

  Tyler blinked up at Ally and Nate standing at the table with amused expressions on their faces. Luke disentangled himself from her hair without the slightest embarrassment, offering the other two a wry smile.

  “Didn’t realize the service here was so quick,” he said, keeping his arm around Tyler’s shoulders.