Sherry put her hand on his back, and he jerked at her touch. He’d forgotten about her, too caught up in Tasha. She smiled at him. His gut roiled with guilt. She was a nice girl, too nice for him. They’d gone out a few times since the concert, but he’d kept a respectful distance. The further he pulled away, the more she clung to him. It was wrong to keep her around when he didn’t want her there in the first place.
He took a seat at the table across from Tasha, even though the thought of watching another intimate exchange with Elijah might kill him. Sherry sat next to him, her hand on top of his thigh. Ally served up a delicious menu of salad, blackened salmon, new potatoes sautéed in butter and rosemary, and grilled asparagus. The flavors burst across his tongue, but he set down his fork after the third bite, stomach churning. Tasha’s eyes met his over the centerpiece of wildflowers then fell to the table. She slowly placed her fork on the edge of her plate. The comforting sounds of silverware against china and the hum of conversation surrounded him, but he felt unsettled.
“Is something wrong, Luke?” Ally, seated to his left, frowned in concern. “You don’t like salmon?”
“No. I mean, yes.” He gave her a quick smile to assuage her anxiety. “It’s great. I ate too much for lunch, I think.”
“It’s really very good,” Gisele said, in her low, cultured voice. “Did you make your own seasoning or did you buy it?”
“Where’s Chelsea?” Elijah asked. “I wanted to catch up.”
“I made it,” Ally said. “It’s a combination of fresh herbs and spices from the market down the street.” She smiled at Gisele, but her gaze concentrated on Tasha and Luke.
“Ally’s an excellent cook,” Jack said. His chocolate eyes twinkled with pride. Ally smiled back at him.
“I spent some time in New Orleans,” Gisele said. “And this tastes like the real deal.”
“Where the hell did Chelsea get a baby?” Elijah asked. No one was listening to him, but in typical self-absorbed fashion, he didn’t seem to care.
“So how did you meet David?” Karly asked from Elijah’s right side, fork hovering above an overflowing plate. For a petite thing, she could eat more than most guys.
“Through a mutual friend,” Gisele said.
Several conversations were going at once. Randy and Elijah discussed the merits of an up-and-coming local band, while Jack and David had their heads together about Felony matters. With half an ear, Luke listened to the conversations, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Tasha. Something was wrong. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on. He searched her face for clues. Their eyes met again. She lifted her chin in the stubborn way she had and hooded her eyes so he couldn’t see into them, shutting him out. His hands clenched into fists beneath the table. Don’t shut me out, he pleaded, willing her eyes back to his by sheer force of mind.
“So what do you do for a living?” Ally asked, still intrigued by David’s date.
“I’m in public relations,” Gisele replied with a vague wave of her hand.
“She’s an escort,” David interjected.
Karly sprayed a mouthful of wine onto her plate. Randy scraped his chair back from the table. Jack and Elijah laughed. Ally inhaled a bite of fish and began to choke. Luke thumped her on the back.
“Well, fuck me,” Elijah said.
“I can, but it’s going to cost you,” Gisele said, her tone light and playful, turning the full force of her charm on Elijah. Her eyes sparkled at the promise of opportunity.
“Have we met before?” Elijah asked, one eyebrow cocked. Tasha heaved a sigh and dropped her napkin onto the table. “You look familiar.”
Ally seemed to have recovered and glared at David. “You brought a hooker into my house? Are you kidding me?” She swallowed and shot an apologetic glance at Gisele. “No offense.”
“Escort,” David corrected.
“None taken,” Gisele said easily. Unaffected, she took a sip of wine while her lips curled in amusement.
“In all fairness,” David began in his most businesslike tone, “Gisele is fluent in seven languages and has a Harvard education. Don’t you, babe?”
“Yes. I have a degree in marketing, but honestly, I make more in one day as an escort than I did in a month at my old job.” She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and took another sip of wine. Jack poured the last drop of pinot into her glass, emptying the bottle.
Tasha slid her chair back from the table. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll get some more wine,” Luke offered and swept the empty bottle from Jack’s hands before he could protest.
Tasha closed the bathroom door behind her and sat on the edge of the tub to catch her breath. When she came out, Luke was waiting in the kitchen. Every time she saw his face, butterflies unfurled in her belly. She smiled at him, certain her feelings showed on her face. He smiled back.
“Doing okay?” he asked. He had a bottle of wine in his hands. She handed him the corkscrew from the counter.
“Yes. I just needed a minute. Is it me, or are things really weird in there?” The tendons in his forearms strained as he popped the cork. His arms were her favorite feature, their strength and warmth. She dropped her eyes, trying not to stare.
“It’s not you. I can’t believe my uncle brought a hooker to Sunday dinner.” Their eyes met and they both laughed. The shared emotion filled her with warmth, followed by wistful sadness.
“I know. Right? I’ve got to meet the rest of your family,” she said. “If they’re anything like Jack and David, I bet your family dinners are really interesting.”
“I’d like that,” he said. His eyes dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second, long enough to heat her blood.
“So, you and Sherry? I didn’t realize you guys were still seeing each other.” There was no way to breach the subject without sounding awkward, but she had to know.
“Sometimes,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug. “What about you and Elijah?”
“There is no me and Elijah. He was waiting outside when I got here. We came up together,” she said. “We’re friends, I think.”
A muscle tensed in his jaw, his thoughts obvious before he said them aloud. “Like you and I are friends?”
“Not exactly,” she replied. Their gaze met again. A dozen emotions flitted through his eyes. Confusion. Sadness. Resignation. She missed him, the way he cleared his throat when he was nervous, the tiny scar next to his bottom lip, and the clean cotton smell of him.
“He said you went on a date the other night.” With his arms folded over his chest, he seemed larger and broader, manly.
“We went to dinner. He keeps stopping by the tattoo studio. The guy won’t take no for answer.”
Luke studied her face, his eyes lingering on her lips. “Yeah. Sounds like him.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
He set the wine bottle on the counter and focused his full attention on her. “I was never mad at you, Tash. We’re still friends. I just needed a little time away from you to get my head together.” His next admission gave her no satisfaction. “You were right about the sex. It confused things.”
“I miss you,” she said, unable to hold the confession back any longer. “I thought maybe we could go somewhere and talk. There are a few things I need to say.”
“I’d like that,” he replied. The light in his eyes caused her heart to skip a beat. “I’ve got a work thing at Winona’s Wine Bar tomorrow, but…” He stopped talking when Elijah sauntered into the room, and Sherry followed behind him.
“Where’s the wine? Jesus, what are you guys doing? Stomping the grapes in here?” Elijah asked.
Sherry hooked her arm through Luke’s and tugged him toward the dining room with a scowl for Tasha. Elijah stood behind her, his lean form pressed against her back. Luke turned away from them. When he left the room, Tasha felt like he took the sunshine with him.
Chapter 24
The mellow notes of a jazz saxophone floated into the street from Winona�
��s Wine Bar and scattered in the breeze like the falling leaves of an oak tree. Tasha paused at the curb, waiting for a break in the afternoon traffic, and closed her eyes for a fleeting moment to drink in the music. When she opened her eyes, she spied Luke on the opposite side, hands in the pockets of his black dress pants, hair ruffling in the wind. His gaze caught hers at the same time. He lifted a hand to wave. She smiled back. The sight of him made her breath catch in her throat and heat rush into her cheeks.
“Hey,” she said, dodging the oncoming pedestrians to join him on the sidewalk.
When she reached his side, he placed a proprietary hand on the small of her back and bent to kiss her. The heat of his palm burned through her thin T-shirt, conjuring up memories of all the places his hands had touched before. His mouth brushed her cheek in platonic greeting. Disappointment dissolved her euphoria. She tried to decipher his features for clues but saw nothing more than his usual good-natured expression.
“What are you doing here, Gretzky? I didn’t think you ventured out of the Boho District,” he teased. “What happened to boycotting capitalistic idealism, evading the bourgeois ennui, and all that?”
“I decided it was time to take my own advice and broaden my horizons,” she replied. “Besides, you said you hate these things. I thought maybe you’d like some company.” Something tempered the former warmth in his eyes, something that made her stomach queasy. When his brow furrowed, she shifted from one foot to the other and back again, suddenly uncertain. This was all so new for her. She didn’t take chances on guys. Maybe this was a mistake.
“You’ll be bored,” he said, not sounding pleased at all. His eyes flickered over her outfit. By her calculation, it was the perfect mix of sexy and steampunk. Tight black pants, crisscrossed by straps and buckles, stretched the length of her legs. A simple blood-red T-shirt airbrushed with a giant skull on the front set off the outfit to perfection. Silver skull earrings and matching belt buckle, a diamond stud in her nose, and black nail polish accented the darkness of her attire and highlighted her attention to detail.
“Okay. Well, I can go. I didn’t mean to rain on your parade, Jameson.” A quick flush of embarrassment and anger heated her cheeks. It wasn’t like she’d gone out of her way to get there or anything. Just a cab ride in the complete opposite direction of her world, and fifteen bucks she didn’t have to spend. She took a step toward the street and an oncoming taxi, but he caught her by the elbow.
“No. Don’t go,” he said. The warmth had returned to his eyes. He smiled down at her with the panty-melting hotness that infiltrated her dreams each night. “I didn’t mean to sound shitty. You just caught me off guard.” His touch drifted away. He shook his head. The smile morphed into a smirk. “Tasha Gretzky, Goth girl, hanging at a wine bar. What is it, a full moon or something?”
“Something like that.” Her voice came out breathy and girlish, not at all the vibe she was going for. She took a fraction of a second to regroup and muster her usual cool facade. “So where are your people? Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Um, let’s go inside first,” he said, staring down at her with way too much heat in his eyes for four o’clock in the afternoon. “They’re in the courtyard out back, talking shop and comparing penis sizes. I don’t know about you, but after the day I had, I could use a good glass of cabernet first.”
She tore her gaze from his, all the former unease replaced by their usual camaraderie, to study the chalkboard easel next to the entrance and the list of featured wines. “I think I’m going to try the shiraz. It looks like they have a new one this week.”
“Since when are you into shiraz?” One of his eyebrows lifted. Before Luke, she’d been more into beer than wine, but his enthusiasm had persuaded her to broaden her palate. He seemed to take vicarious pleasure from teaching her new things, and anything that pleased him, pleased her.
“I’m not. I just like saying it,” she replied and bumped her shoulder against his. “At least, I don’t think I am. I have to admit my knowledge of wine is pretty pathetic.”
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Trying new things, sampling life’s bounty?” The dimple in his left cheek deepened, a sure indicator of the smile to follow. When it broke, it sent a thrill through her, knowing it was for her.
“Right,” she said. “That’s what it’s all about, hot shot.” Their eyes met and held, brimming with mutual attraction. A flicker of heat and mischief flashed in his gaze. The fingers of his left hand brushed over her hip as he moved past her to claim a place in line for the bar.
Someone passed through the crowd behind Luke. He leaned into Tasha. The hard lines of his torso pressed against her arm and shoulder. One of his hands gripped her hip, holding her to him as if he owned her, claiming her. There was nowhere she’d rather be, no one else she’d rather be with.
“Luke? Is that really you?” From within her euphoria, Tasha heard the feminine voice, but it took a few seconds for her gaze to leave his handsome face to find the source. “Oh, my goodness, it is you. How’ve you been?”
“I’m good. Gosh, it’s good to see you,” Luke said. The shock in his voice might have been imperceptible to anyone but Tasha.
The warmth of his fingertips on her hip faded when his hand left her. Even worse, he moved away from her, putting distance between them, turning his back to her in order to hug the woman beside him. The woman wore a pencil skirt, beautiful silk blouse, and a colorful scarf tied around her neck in an artful knot. Her gaze flickered to Tasha then back to Luke, dismissing her without hesitation. Luke stepped out of line, blocking her from the woman’s sight, leaving Tasha to place their order.
“Caroline, it’s been forever. I never thought I’d run into you here. What’ve you been up to?” Although she couldn’t see his face, she could hear the genuine enthusiasm in his voice. “The last time I saw you…” His voice trailed away then picked up again. “Well, it’s been awhile.”
“Actually, I’m back in town for good,” Caroline said in a voice dripping with too much warmth and admiration for Tasha’s comfort. “A friend of mine started her own business, and I’m head of the graphic design department. You should come see me sometime. I’m sure we could use someone with your talent.”
“I might take you up on that,” Luke said. “I don’t see much of a future at my current job, to tell you the truth.”
Caroline touched Luke’s forearm lightly before reaching into her purse to withdraw a business card. She was clearly into him. “Here’s my info. My cell and email are on there. Maybe we can get together for dinner next week. I’d love to catch up with you again.”
“Sure,” Luke said.
Tasha paid for their wine and nudged Luke with her elbow, holding his glass out in front of him. He flinched, his gaze flickering down to her as if he’d forgotten her. He took the glass from her and turned back to Caroline. Luke might have forgotten about her, but Caroline hadn’t.
“Is this—is she—are you two together?” One of Caroline’s elegant eyebrows arched, an echo of the stammering disbelief in her voice. Pale blue eyes flitted from the stud in Tasha’s nose to the red roses tattooed on her forearm. Tasha drew in a deep breath and waited for the woman to acclimate.
“Yes,” Luke replied. “This is Tasha. We work together at Felony. You remember Jack, right? He’s co-owner of a few places here in town.”
“Oh, of course I remember Jack,” Caroline said, relief audible in her voice. “I’m so sorry, Tasha. I didn’t mean to be rude.” She extended a well-manicured hand in greeting. “I’m Caroline Hayden.”
“Tasha Gretzky,” she said. Caroline’s grasp felt cool and confident. Her manners kicked in and took over. “It’s always nice to meet a friend of Luke’s.”
“Yes, likewise,” Caroline replied. After an awkward silence billowed between the three of them, Caroline cleared her throat and returned her focus to Luke. “Well, I’ll let you go. I’ve got some friends outside.” She touched Luke’s arm and smiled. “Give me a call,
okay? I mean it.”
“I will,” Luke said. His gaze followed Caroline out the door, into the courtyard, and stayed there long enough to make Tasha’s stomach clench with dismay.
When his attention didn’t return to her, Tasha huffed a sigh of exasperation and pushed past him, determined to hide her hurt behind a wall of indifference. A young couple left a small table for two near the window overlooking the courtyard. Tasha claimed it, leaving Luke behind. He followed a few seconds later and took the seat across from her. She stared out the window, feigning interest in the jazz trio assembled there. Caroline and her friends, a bevy of well-manicured women dressed in high-heeled pumps and scarves, sat at a table beyond the musical ensemble. A second, longer table teemed with men wearing neatly pressed pants, pinstriped shirts, and neckties in muted colors. Luke’s people. The women seated beside them were obviously their girlfriends and wives. One of the men caught his attention and summoned him with a wave.
“That’s my boss,” he said, still avoiding her. “Let me see what he wants. I’ll be right back.” He took his wine glass and went to the table, pausing to exchange remarks with Caroline on the way. His boss tugged on his sleeve and pulled him into a chair at their table.
Tasha finished her glass of wine and looked around for a waitress to order another. Her gaze flitted to Luke. He sat at the table next to his boss with his back to her and hadn’t even glanced in her direction. She choked back a frustrated sigh. He obviously had more important things than her to worry about. She was about to leave when he returned.
“How’s your shiraz?” he asked. His eyes snagged on Caroline through the window.
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