“What was that?” Luke pulled her to her feet and led her to the living room.
“Nothing.”
He spun her toward her couch, and Allison’s jaw dropped. How had she missed it when she’d walked in? Where there once had been a wide bare space between her sofa on one side of the room and her TV on the other, now, nestled by the couch, was a large ottoman pouf. The three-foot-wide cylinder was constructed in a deep red leather. The top was a patchwork pattern of leather mixed with a red paisley fabric. The burgundy sides were adorned with patterns of tan stitches that reminded Allison of her cowboy boots. The whole thing was funky, western, and beautiful.
“It reminded me of you.”
“Big and poufy?” She tried to make a joke out of it, but her mind was whirring. What did a man buying you furniture mean?
“Fun and sexy.” Luke examined her face for her reaction, shifting on his feet. “And you need more furniture in here. Except for your kitchen, you have a lot of empty space.”
Walking over to the pouf, she ran her fingers across the cool leather. “Well, it’s just me and I don’t do much living here. I’m always at the restaurant. I just figured I would get more stuff when…”
“When what?” he asked, his forehead creasing.
She didn’t bother explaining it to this man. Luke lived for the moment. He wouldn’t wait for a family before he did anything, even something as mundane as furnishing a big house. He wouldn’t understand. And why should he? What was the point in waiting?
Sitting down on the pouf, Allison tugged Luke down next to her. She was tired of trying to fit into her family’s mold. She used to be impulsive and spontaneous, and she used to have a heck of a lot more fun. It was time to lighten up. She scooted close. “I like to try out new furniture. Give it a test, so to speak.”
He bounced up and down. “Seems solid.”
A smile stretched across her face. God, he was cute. She ran her fingers up his neck until she could grab a fistful of hair and pull him down to lie flat on his back. His head hung off the edge.
“That’s not the kind of test I want to run,” she said. Giving in to what she’d wanted to do to her cook since the day they’d met, she swung a leg over his waist and straddled his stomach. She leaned down until their lips were inches apart.
His eyes glittered like hard emeralds. Resting his hands on her butt, he pulled her in tight to his body, telling her that he was onboard.
She ran her lips up and down his neck, nibbling here, sucking there. Damn, he tasted good—spicy and musky and exquisite on her sensitive palate. “Luke, I can’t believe we’re really doing this.” She pulled back and looked into his face. He was breathing heavily, his heaving chest brushing against hers with each inhalation. She kissed along his jawline, intent on exploring every inch of him. “I was having”—she bit his earlobe—“such a crappy day, and I said all kinds of stupid stuff to my family.” She tugged his hair, directing his head to the left to expose the patch of skin beneath his ear. “I was feeling pathetic and alone.” She brushed her lips over his, the slight tickle sending the hair on the back of her neck skyward. “But when I got home, you made me feel so much better.”
He turned his head to the side. “Wait.” His chest raised and lowered her body. “Just wait a second.”
Putting her hands beside his shoulders, she pushed up. “Why?”
His gaze snapped back to hers, landing like a blow. “I can’t think with you on top of me,” he said. “Get up.” He practically tossed her off of him in his hurry to put distance between them.
Her stomach began a slow spiral. This wasn’t going how it was supposed to.
“Let me get this straight.” Luke stood and began pacing. “You get in a fight with your family; you feel bad because you’re still single; then you come back and jump me. Is that right?”
She stood, as well, and wrapped her arms around her middle. “It wasn’t a fight so much as—”
“Doesn’t matter, that’s not the part I care about.” He stopped, shoved his hands in his pockets. “Am I your consolation prize, Allison? Are you feeling so low that you decided to just say screw it to your resolutions—or screw me, more accurately? I’m not going to be the hot fudge sundae you fall off your diet for, and then hate yourself over the next day.”
“That’s not what this is.” She grabbed his arm. “I changed my mind about turning over a new leaf. It hasn’t gotten me anywhere.”
“So you don’t want a husband and a house full of kids anymore?”
Allison bit her lip. Her chest tightened, and she dropped her hand and stepped back.
Luke pressed the heel of his palm to his eye. He sighed. “That’s what I thought. I like you, Allison. Enough that I don’t want to ruin our friendship on something you’ll regret.”
“But…”
He shot her a pained look. “This isn’t going to happen.” He strode to the door and pulled his coat off a hook. “The beef ragout should be done in thirty. Don’t let it burn.”
And then he left.
She hurried to her window and watched him stride down the sidewalk. He pulled out his new hat and tugged it down over his ears. She kept her nose pressed to the glass until he turned the corner and walked out of sight. Stumbling across the living room, she fell on the pouf, face-first.
She felt like she’d just been kicked in the stomach. Her body was still revved for action, but her heart was aching, and she didn’t quite know how to reconcile the two. She took a deep breath, trying not to cry. She didn’t think she’d been using Luke. And he was no woman’s consolation prize. Couldn’t he just be happy that she’d come around to his way of thinking? That while she kept an eye out for Mr. Right, she could still have fun?
After all his flirting and innuendo, she had finally decided to settle for a fling. And now he changed his mind?
If she weren’t so hurt, she’d have hunted him down and kicked his ass. Instead, she got up and checked on the simmering ragout. Leaning her face over the pot, she inhaled deeply, hoping the mustard and nutmeg would comfort her. Whatever else, Luke was an exceptional chef.
She brushed a hand over her wet cheek and leaned back so she wasn’t right over the pot. The ragout didn’t need any more salt. No matter how many times she told herself it was for the best, that he had done her a favor, she couldn’t get the hole in her heart to stop aching.
Because Luke had shown her something worse than rejection. He’d put their friendship above getting laid, her feelings above his desires. The more time she spent around him, the more he showed her that Luke Hamilton had all the potential of being her Mr. Right.
And knowing that she might have met the right guy, but could never have him, was worse than not meeting him at all.
Allison’s life was in Pineville, and Luke was only a temporary visitor. He had a five-star restaurant in Chicago, a level of fame and a place in society he could be proud of. And there was no way Allison and The Pantry could compare.
Chapter Ten
Raucous music pounded into Luke from the dance floor. He grabbed four beers by their necks from the bar and climbed down half a flight of steps to the bowling lanes. It was Tuesday night, and the Pins ’N’ Pints was rocking. When Colt had asked him if he wanted to join a group at Pineville’s combination bowling alley, bar, and nightclub, Luke hadn’t known what to expect. What he got was a rollicking good time.
The past couple of days had been uncomfortable as hell. After he’d picked his bike up from the shop, Allison had informed him he was welcome to stay at her house until he left Pineville, that she didn’t want what had happened between them to cost her a fry cook.
So he’d stayed, but their relationship hadn’t gone back to normal. He and Allison danced around each other at work and at her home. Not knowing what to say, he was silent. She was polite. If that was how the universe rewarded his good deed, then acting noble
was for suckers. Not taking Allison on her living room floor had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. The woman he’d been lusting after had finally been willing and in his arms.
And she’d been lonely and depressed. So, he’d manned up and done the right thing.
Did he get a thank-you from Allison? An acknowledgment that he had the self-control of a goddamn saint? No, he did not. He got stiff smiles and banal pleasantries. By the time Tuesday night had rolled around, he’d been ready to blow.
“You’re up, Luke.” Sprawled on the plastic seat, Colt pointed to the ball return.
Luke looked for his ball, the one that had a small chip at the hole where his thumb went. Not that it mattered. He’d tried three different balls, and his game hadn’t improved. The ball flew down the lane, a midnight-blue blur, and knocked over six pins. It rolled down the gutter his next throw.
“You really suck at this,” Colt said, reaching for his beer.
“Maybe.” Luke leaned back, crossed an ankle over his knee, resting his arms on the backs of the seats beside him. “But I look a lot better doing it than any of you yokels.”
Jerome Davis snorted. “I’ve never been called that before.” For the first time since Luke had met him, Jerome was out of uniform. The lawman draped an arm over the empty plastic seat next to him. “I was a city boy, just like you, until I wised up. But even in St. Louis, we knew how to bowl better than you.”
Pete laughed while drinking his beer, and ending up choking. He coughed up beer on Colt’s khakis. Colt flinched away. He took the napkin Jerome handed him and swiped at his pants.
“Jesus, Pete. We help you escape from your madhouse, and that’s the thanks I get?”
Jerome tipped his bottle in the direction of the bar. “Colt, I thought this was supposed to be a guys’ night. You invited your woman?”
All their heads swiveled.
Sadie and Allison leaned against the long, L-shaped bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention. Allison was wearing a clingy purple sweater and tight black pants, every inch of her generous curves on display. The man on the barstool next to Allison had his gaze firmly planted on her ass, and blood pounded in Luke’s ears.
Jerome was off-duty. Maybe Luke could get away with ripping the guy’s head off.
Colt stood up and waved. Sadie’s eyes widened, and she started laughing. Allison didn’t look as amused, but she followed Sadie when the woman came trotting down the stairs. Allison took the steps more carefully. Knee-high leather boots with four-inch heels had a tendency to slow a person down. Laces ran the length of the shafts, from her shins to her ankles, and Luke was mesmerized as he traced each crisscrossing ribbon down its path.
“Colt!” Sadie threw her arms around her fiancé amid a chorus of awwws.
“You just couldn’t stay away from me, huh?” Colt asked.
Allison nodded politely to Luke and brushed past him to talk with Jerome and Pete. She gave Jerome a quick hug, her platinum curls a bold contrast against the cop’s mocha skin.
She sniffed. “Jesus, Pete, you stink of beer. I hope you’re not driving tonight.”
“I spilled—”
“Spit it up like a baby,” Jerome corrected.
“—but if I have too much, Lea will come get me.”
Spying a stack of napkins on an empty seat, Allison bent over and picked one up. Luke’s gaze was drawn to her butt like a magnet. So were Pete’s and Jerome’s. Luke couldn’t really blame them for the automatic reaction, not when a woman with an ass like Allison wore pants like those. But he still might have to kill them.
He stepped between Allison and the guys and glared at the men.
Pete looked abashed. Jerome raised an eyebrow and glanced between Allison and Luke.
Allison handed Pete some napkins and went to kiss Colt on the cheek.
Luke gritted his teeth. Everyone was getting love but him.
“We didn’t know you’d be here.” Sadie grabbed Colt’s bottle of beer and took a sip. “I’ll leave you to your boys’ night out, and Allison and I will enjoy our girls’ night. I’ve got my dancing shoes on.” She threaded her arm through Allison’s, and they strutted up the stairs and back to the bar.
Luke watched to make sure that jerk eyeballing Allison didn’t cause problems.
Plopping into his seat, Colt toed off his bowling shoes. He shoved his feet into his work boots. “Sorry, guys. I’m out. If my baby wants to dance, it’s going to be with me.”
Luke joined in the good-natured jeers and shouts of “whipped,” but his heart wasn’t in it.
Jerome nursed his beer. “Must be nice.” He nodded at Colt and Sadie. Colt was dragging his fiancée onto the dance floor, both wearing huge grins. Jerome ran a hand over his close crop of dark curls. “I miss having a woman to come home to.”
“Divorced?” Luke asked.
Jerome nodded. “A nice woman, but it didn’t work out. But I got a daughter from it, so it was worth it.”
“Hey, speaking of Katie,” Pete said, “does she want some stupid cowgirl doll for Christmas? My youngest won’t shut up about it. She’s given me five letters to mail to the North Pole, afraid the others got lost by the post office.”
Jerome rocked back on his heels. “A doll with the same name as my girl’s? Yeah, she wants it. I’ve got it covered.”
Pete opened his mouth, but Luke elbowed him before he could speak. He nodded toward the bar. “Hey, Allison’s sitting by herself now. Maybe we should invite her to play.”
Pete laughed. “You’ve never seen Allison bowl obviously. And the worse she plays, the more she swears. Don’t worry. She won’t be sitting alone for long.” He pointed at two men who were already sidling over to the blonde.
Oh, hell no. Luke kicked out of his shoes and yanked on his boots, his sock balling at the heel. Allison laughed at something one of the men said, and Luke gave up on straightening the sock. If he didn’t get to capitalize on her attempt at cheer-me-up sex, no way in hell would any of those jackasses.
“Later.” Ignoring the grumbling behind him, he jogged up the steps and over to the bar. “Hey,” he said, out of breath. He wedged himself between Allison’s stool and one of the men. He gave back the man’s glare as good as he got. “I’ll get you a drink.”
She tapped the full glass in front of her on the bar. “Jack here already did.” Saluting the man next to her, she tipped the glass back and took a deep swallow.
Jack was looking down her scoop neck and was going to get his face slammed into the bar if he didn’t stop. “We need to talk,” Luke told her. “Dance with me?”
She licked her bottom lip and eyed him warily. Slowly, she placed her hand in his and excused herself from Jack and Dickface. Probably an unfair moniker, but Luke didn’t want to waste time with introductions. He guided Allison out from the pool of sharks and onto the dance floor. He tugged her into his arms, settling his hands on her hips. Her sweater was soft as a kitten under his fingers, the curves of her body luscious beneath his hands as she swayed to the beat.
“What did you want to talk about?” She stared past his right shoulder, avoiding eye contact.
What did he want to talk about? He mainly just wanted to get her alone, away from her admirers. But now that he had the opportunity, he did want to clear the air. Get them back to where they’d been before Sunday’s fiasco.
“How about why you’ve been treating me like I’m nothing more than a lodger. One thing I like about you is that you always speak your mind. But these last couple of days, you’ve been walking around on eggshells, being nothing but polite.” The last word burned on his tongue. He missed feisty Allison. “You’ve yelled at your customers more than you have me these past few days.”
Allison frowned. “I am always polite to my customers.”
Luke let that one pass. “And I know I haven’t been much better. I’ve been giving
you space when I should have been there for you, as a friend. If you need someone to talk to about your family, I want you to know that I’m here.”
Her fingers dug into his shoulder. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been my usual charming self with you, Luke, but it’s hard to act normal after I threw myself at you and you rejected me.” Little frown lines wrinkled the skin above her nose. “It’s embarrassing.”
He stopped dancing. “Hold up. You think I didn’t want to sleep with you?”
A couple two-stepping past them tittered. Allison glared at them. “Why don’t you say that a little louder?” she asked Luke. She stomped on his foot with her boot and got him back moving. “Better yet, have the band make an announcement. I don’t think the bartender heard that I offered up the goods to you.”
Tugging her in close, Luke lowered his head to her ear. “Let me make this very clear, sweet cheeks. There was nothing I wanted more than to take you to bed.” Or to the table, against the wall, it hadn’t mattered. “I still want to screw you senseless.”
Allison’s lips pressed into a white slash. Taking his hand, she led him off the dance floor and to the corridor that led to the restrooms. The music was muffled to a low roar. “I know you want me. You’ve made that clear. But it still hurt when you walked away.”
“I was trying to be a goddamned gentleman.” He glared at her. The woman was driving him nuts.
She laughed. Laughed until her eyes watered.
“What the hell’s funny about that?” he asked. Why couldn’t she just say thank you, maybe praise him for being a great guy, like any normal woman would?
She wiped her eyes. “Why did you have to be a gentleman the one night I was ready for a playboy? Talk about bad timing.”
Bad timing was one word for it. Dumb as a box full of rocks might be more accurate. He’d just blown his one chance with Allison. He rubbed his chest. He’d made so many mistakes lately, but trying not to hurt Allison probably wasn’t one of them. It had been the right decision. Didn’t mean he had to like it.
The Christmas Wedding Swap Page 13