His pace changed, gathered speed. He threw his head back, the veins on the sides of his neck bulging. “You’re close, aren’t you? You’re squeezing me so… damn… hard.” Panting, he looked down at her, jaw set, eyes blazing.
Everything in her coiled tighter. “Oh, God.” Raising her hands, she pressed her palms against the headboard and tried to push into his thrusts, to increase the friction. Her heart pounded, loud and fast, matching the rattle of the bed against the wall. She crested the wave, knowing the crash was going to be epic.
Luke leaned down and took her lips, pulling her over. Her body shattered into a thousand fragments of bliss. Luke swallowed her screams and rocked into her, letting her ride out the peak. She shuddered around him, the pulses drifting further and further apart.
“Fucking beautiful.” Luke’s voice was as rough as crushed gravel. Rearing back, he grabbed her hips and pounded home, all restraint gone. It wasn’t long until he followed her over. His fingers bit into her flesh, and with a ragged groan, he quaked with surrender.
All the muscles in Luke’s face sagged, and he gave her a look of sleepy-eyed pleasure. He collapsed on top of her, his heart racing against hers.
Allison slicked her hands up and down his back, content to hold him for as long as possible. Their bodies cooled, and their pulses slowed.
“I can’t feel my legs,” Luke said, his voice muffled by the comforter. “That can’t be normal.”
Allison chuckled. “I told you I’d make it memorable. Not normal.”
With a sigh, Luke pushed up. He gripped the base of the condom. “I’d better get rid of this.” Rolling out of bed, he strode to the bathroom.
She watched him go. His ass was high and tight and entirely bitable, but even that satisfying sight couldn’t stop the sinking of her heart. She swallowed, the back of her throat burning. Luke walking away was going to be her reality in a few short weeks. Seeing the back of him was something she was going to have to grow accustomed to.
Allison sniffed. She was tough. She’d get used to it.
But would she ever recover?
Chapter Thirteen
Allison’s stomach twisted. She hopped from one foot to the other on the top step of her parents’ porch. A large boxwood wreath hung on the front door, a big red bow dangling from the bottom center. Luke slipped his hand into hers and squeezed. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he looked down at her, and Allison’s spirits rose.
“If we’re going to play boyfriend and girlfriend, we should hold hands, right?” he asked.
And like a roller coaster, her mood took another nosedive. They were only playing. And all playtimes had to come to an end.
It was getting harder to remember that. The past few days they’d been practically inseparable. They slept in the same bed, and every morning he woke her with a kiss. They went to work together. And she fell asleep wrapped in his arms.
And when they weren’t sleeping or working, they were christening every room in her house. Her bed was still Luke’s favorite place, but he’d grudgingly admitted the pouf was sturdy enough for their purposes.
Luke shifted a casserole dish to his hip, an egg concoction he’d made for brunch. He nodded at the door. “Do we knock or just go in?”
She sighed and dropped his hand. “My family isn’t big on advance notice.” Pushing the door open, she called out, “Hey everyone; we’re here.”
The chatter from the kitchen abruptly stopped. The grandfather clock echoed in the foyer. The blare of the television was noticeably absent. That was when Allison knew just how big a deal it was to her family that Luke had come to brunch. Football was on every Sunday during the season, without fail. Five minutes after Sam had announced her pregnancy, the guys had wandered back to the family room to watch. Babies weren’t even enough to silence the TV.
But Allison bringing a man home was. She gritted her teeth.
The sound of chairs scraping and shoes squeaking assaulted her ears. “Get ready,” she told Luke. “The interrogation is about to begin.”
“Auntie Alli!” A streak of black curls and high-octane energy threw itself around Allison’s waist.
She fell back a step and ran a hand through Molly’s hair. “Hey, Pooh Bear. How’s it going?”
“Everyone’s talking ’bout you,” Molly whispered. “And your boyfriend.” Boyfriend came out as a singsong.
Cam and Samantha bustled through the door. Karen squirmed on Cam’s hip, and Cam hissed something in her ear before beaming at Allison and Luke. “Hi, Allison. Glad you could make it.”
She drew her gaze down Luke with laser-like precision, and Allison could see her sister sizing him up. Samantha stepped forward and gave Allison a hug as the rest of the family piled into the foyer. Everyone stared at Luke as though he were a black swan, an animal no one had thought existed. Fitting he’d named his restaurant after one.
Luke draped his free arm around Allison’s shoulders. “Hello, everyone. Thanks for inviting me to brunch.” He lifted the casserole dish. “I made a shrimp-and-camembert frittata.”
Allison’s mother took it from his hand, and peeked under the foil. “This smells wonderful.” She gave Luke a hundred-watt grin. “I’m Janet, Allison’s mother. And this is my husband, Walter.”
Allison’s dad stepped forward and took Luke’s hand. “It’s nice to finally meet the man who’s parked himself at my daughter’s house.”
“Dad!” Allison’s eyes rounded in horror.
Her sisters tittered nervously, like he was making a joke, and her mother jabbed an elbow into his side. All the women in the family looked desperate not to chase away what they probably thought of as Allison’s last hope.
Allison introduced Luke to the rest of the family. Molly cocked her head. “You don’t look like a miracle to me.”
Everyone fell silent.
“What are you talking about, Pooh Bear?” Allison asked.
“Mom said—”
“It’s time you washed up for brunch,” Cam interrupted. Grabbing Molly by the shoulder, she herded her older daughter toward the kitchen. She threw an apologetic glance at Allison.
Allison’s stomach churned. She refused to look at Luke, didn’t want to see what he thought of her family believing it was a miracle she could land a man. It was a good thing she and Luke weren’t for real, or the horribly painful hours ahead with her family would end them quickly. “Why don’t we all go to the kitchen? I know I’d like a cup of coffee, and I’m sure Luke would, too.”
“Of course.” Her mother went into hostess mode. She led the group back into the kitchen. “Let me just get this frittata in the oven to keep warm, and we can all have a nice chat before brunch.”
Luke leaned against the counter. “Sounds great. Is there anything I can do to help, Janet?” Luke in his meet-the-parents mode was a sight to behold. Instead of his usual jeans and t-shirt, he wore charcoal-gray wool pants, creased so sharply they looked like they could slice bread. His sweater was forest green, of a cashmere so soft Allison hadn’t been able to stop petting it. That sweater had almost made them late. He’d gone clothes shopping for this brunch, and this time it definitely hadn’t been at Walmart.
“Everything’s all set. Just sit down and tell us about yourself.” Allison’s mom closed the oven door and wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “This one here has hardly said a word.” She pointed a finger at Allison. “You work at The Pantry?”
Allison pulled out bar stools at the counter for her and Luke. Maybe it was the added height, but she definitely felt more secure sitting at the counter than around the kitchen table with the rest of the family. “Yes, he’s one of my cooks.”
Her mother slid the dishtowel over the oven door bar, tugging at the edges until it formed a perfect rectangle. “And is that what you plan to do long term?”
Because being a cook at a greasy spoon wasn’t good enough f
or her mom. Allison clenched her fist, her nails digging into her palm. She wanted to tell her mother that Luke was a three-star-rated Michelin chef, damn it, that her daughter’s live-in boyfriend was one of the most well-known restaurateurs in the nation. But telling them that would be inviting a whole host of questions about what Luke was doing here, questions that could lead to Luke’s legal problems. Luke had made it clear that he wanted as few people as possible to know who he truly was; she hadn’t even told Sadie.
And shockingly enough, the Tree Twins, those queens of gossip, hadn’t spilled the beans about Luke Hamilton either. He hadn’t told them the whole story, but they must have seen enough in his phone to suspect. Charming those two into keeping his secrets was a feat worthy of Don Juan.
“He’s an exceptional cook—”
Luke covered her hand with his own. “I’m just at The Pantry until she finds permanent help. I don’t want Allison breaking her back working understaffed, especially as she’s helping with Sadie’s wedding. But I own my own restaurant in Chicago. It’s a French fusion restaurant.”
Her father’s eyebrows drew down low. “You have a restaurant in Chicago, but you’re living in Pineville? I don’t understand.”
Allison shot a panicked look at Luke. She knew he was trying to help her, be someone her mother would respect. But they should have stuck to the Luke being a fry cook story. The truth, or partial truth, just didn’t make sense.
But Luke had it covered. “I’ve transitioned more into an investor role. I have very good people running the show, and the restaurant only needs my occasional presence.” He smiled his thanks as Allison’s mother placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. “I was traveling around the country on an extended vacation when I hit Pineville. Let’s just say the town’s attractions made me reevaluate where I wanted to live.” He lifted Allison’s hand and placed a tender kiss on the back of it.
Allison narrowed her eyes. He was hamming it up a little too much, acting too affectionate. No one was going to believe all that crap.
Samantha sighed, and Camilla smacked her husband’s shoulder. “Why can’t you ever say sweet things like that?”
Even her mother’s stern chin softened.
The husbands in the room all gave a universal eye roll.
Allison’s shoulders started to unclench. She couldn’t believe her sisters and mother were buying his BS. As for the men, well, only charming 50 percent of the population wasn’t bad.
Luke looked her father in the eye. “Sir, you’ve raised a real fine woman. She’s the kindest, most generous person I know.”
Allison’s heart flopped around like a fish on a pier at his words. Damn, but he could sound sincere when he wanted to.
Apparently, her father agreed. He beamed. “My girl is something special. They all are. I’m glad she’s with someone who can see that.”
Allison scratched her nail on the counter. She’d considered the drawbacks of lying to her family, how hard it would be to make them believe. She hadn’t considered how slimy she’d feel. She was, in essence, tricking the people who loved her most. Her family didn’t deserve her childish lies. Yes, she and Luke were sort-of dating now, but they both knew deep down that it wouldn’t last. They were pretending something serious for her family, and it wasn’t right.
The oven buzzer went off, and everyone shuffled into the dining room, carrying plates and trays laden with food. This Sunday brunch her mother and sisters had gone all out. Two different kinds of coffee cake, one in the shape of a Christmas tree with dried cherries studded into the top as ornaments, Eggs Benedict, a big bowl of fruit salad, maple-glazed bacon, and Luke’s frittata weighed the table down. When her mother broke out the champagne and orange juice, Allison’s cheeks burned in shame. Bringing Luke to brunch was a big friggin’ deal.
Luke was peppered with questions the whole meal. It was a wonder he was able to swallow a bite. Her sisters wanted to know about their first date. Her parents asked leading questions about how financially secure he was. Her brothers-in-law talked sports with him. Luke offered them his season tickets to the Bulls anytime they were in town. Everyone was impressed.
Except for her nieces.
Luke scooped a serving of frittata onto each of the girls’ plates. “Ladies, I don’t think you’ve tried this yet.”
Molly turned up her nose. “I don’t eat fish.”
Luke pursed his lips. “Technically shrimp isn’t fish. But I think if you try it, you’ll like it.”
“Sh’imp are swimming around in fish’s poop.” Molly pushed her plate away. “I’m not eating it.”
“Molly!” Cam shot Luke an apologetic look. “Apologize to your aunt’s friend.”
“Sorry,” the girl muttered.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Luke shrugged. “She’s not wrong.” He glanced down at his plate. “I might be off fish for a while, too.”
Allison’s mother speared a shrimp. “Well, I think it’s delicious.”
An awkward silence descended, and Allison noticed no one went back to Luke’s dish for seconds.
Karen took her finger out of her frittata. “Are you going to give me another cousin, like Unky Pat did to Aunt Sam?”
“Uh…” For the first time that day, Luke looked uncertain.
“Don’t be stupid,” her sister said. “Everyone knows they’d have to get married first.”
The table was full of adults shoveling food into their mouths so no one would have to say anything.
Molly looked around the table. “Right, Mom? Luke and Aunt Allison would have to get married first.”
Allison looked at her butter knife. It was too dull to do the job, but she needed something to kill herself with. This had to be the most awkward fake-boyfriend-meeting-the-family ever.
“That’s the way it usually goes, sweetie,” Cam said. “And don’t call your sister stupid.”
Luke cleared his throat, and directed his smile at Samantha. “Allison told me your good news. Congratulations to you two,” he said, lifting his mimosa in the direction of Sam and her husband, Patrick.
Sam rested a hand on her still-flat stomach. “Thanks.” She reached over and tickled Karen under the chin. “Your Uncle Pat and I will be providing the cousins for the foreseeable future. You’ll have enough on your hands teaching this little one the ropes. Don’t get greedy for more.”
Karen laughed and wiggled her little bottom on the seat. “She’ll be like my baby sister, ’cause Mommy says she won’t be giving me a baby sister.” She stuck a thumb to her chest. “I’m the baby of the family, and it’s going to stay that way. Right, Mommy?”
Cam took her napkin off her lap and wiped Karen’s face. “Right, baby.”
Molly glared at her younger sister. “And I’m the oldest. That’s more important than being the baby. Right, Mom?”
Allison could see a full-scale battle of epic proportions was about to begin over which birth order was supreme. These usually included shrieks pitched high enough to call dogs and a lot of crocodile tears.
Allison patted her mouth with her napkin. “You finished, Pooh Bear? Let’s clear our plates and go watch some football in the living room. I’m sure your dad will be joining us soon.”
John gulped down his coffee and nodded. The whole family knew that separating the two children now would be to everyone’s advantage.
John picked up his and his daughter’s plates. “The Cowboys are playing, sweetie. You know how much you like their cheerleaders. Maybe we’ll see some of them on the TV.” He saw the rest of the table staring at him and shrugged. “She likes to watch that reality show. We watch together.”
Samantha snorted. “Do you really think that’s appropriate television for a six-year-old?”
“Just wait until you have your own kids,” Cam said. “It won’t be all PBS programming and Disney. You learn to pick your battles.”
And yet another potential fight that Allison wanted no part of. She grabbed Luke’s elbow and pulled him to his feet. “Take your plate. Let’s go.”
After a detour to the kitchen, they made it to the living room and the flat-screen TV. Molly settled on Allison’s lap. Luke dropped next to them on the couch. Allison’s father was already ensconced in his favorite chair. The rest of the family trickled in and out. Luke’s interrogation was on official hiatus while the game clock ran.
Karen crawled in, barking like a dog.
Eyes wide, Luke shot a look at Allison. “Uh, do we…”
Allison kept her gaze on the TV. “Ignore.”
When it became apparent to Karen that no one would play, she gave up. She jumped up on the couch and clambered onto Luke’s lap. Luke froze, hands hovering in the air as if Karen was a live grenade he didn’t want to jostle.
Allison bit the inside of her cheek. For sheer entertainment value, this brunch was shaping up all right.
Karen sighed, and lay back against his chest, the top of her head tucked under his chin. Tentatively, Luke lowered his arms and gently embraced the girl. He dropped his chin to her hair.
Allison’s ovaries wept. Why did a man become ten times sexier the instant he held a child? Or a puppy? It sure didn’t work that way for women. Totally unfair.
But Allison couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Every time he shifted, when he and Karen cheered at the touchdowns, Allison saw it all. She drummed her fingers on the couch, feeling more and more restless.
With two minutes left, and the Cowboys up by twenty, Allison stood. She wanted to get out while the getting was good. The small break between this game and the next was a danger zone best avoided. Too much time for her family to renew their interrogation.
“Well, Luke and I have to get going. Need to check in at The Pantry.” Owning your own restaurant was a crap ton of work, but it also was a handy excuse for times just like these.
The Christmas Wedding Swap Page 16