* * *
NORMALLY, THE SMELL in the diner would have Luke salivating for a double cheeseburger. He wasn’t really hungry, though. He’d eaten so much popcorn during the movie that he felt kind of nauseated. Plus, he’d been uncomfortable since they left the theater. Sitting in the backseat of the car with Sarah made his stomach feel funny—even before her cousin Elliot started in on him.
After they’d exited their movie, Elliot had suggested they duck into one of the other theaters for a “bargain double feature.”
“The trick is to do it one person at a time, casually,” he’d said, “like you’re just coming back from the bathroom.”
“Nah, we don’t have another two hours anyway,” Sarah’s brother had said. “Luke’s gotta be home by ten-thirty.”
Elliot had rolled his eyes. “What the hell? Doesn’t your mom know it’s summer? It’s not like this is a school night.”
Luke hadn’t known how to respond. Luckily, Sarah had interrupted to ask if anyone else had recognized an actress in the movie. Conversation shifted to television shows while they waited to be seated at the diner.
When the hostess finally showed them to a table, they passed Rick Jacobs, sharing a platter of buffalo wings with a couple of burly men in baseball caps. Rick nodded hello but didn’t intrude. He knew how to give a guy space, unlike Luke’s mom. Before she’d allowed him to go out for the night, she’d called Mrs. Pemberton and practically asked for the life history of Sarah’s brother. Luke wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d had the sheriff run a background check before agreeing that Luke could get in the car with him.
Once they were all seated, Elliot took a renewed interest in Luke. He glanced from Sarah to Luke, an unpleasant grin on his face. “I don’t know how I feel about some punk dating my little cousin. How do I know you’re good enough for a Pemberton?”
Sarah kicked him under the table. “We’re not dating.” Her face was bright red as she said it. Was she humiliated by people thinking she and Luke were more than friends?
Elliot ignored her. “She says it was just you and your mom who moved to this Podunk town. What happened to your dad—he take off?”
“Died,” Luke snapped. So far, he and Sarah had avoided having that conversation, and he resented Elliot’s asking.
“Oh. That’s tough luck, kid.” Elliot leaned back, looking genuinely sorry. Maybe he didn’t completely suck, although Luke wished Elliot didn’t view him as a “kid.” There was only a four-year difference between them. “My dad ran off a couple of years ago. Mom’s not terrible, but you should meet some of the losers she dates. That’s why I visit my aunt and uncle as often as possible.”
Luke was surprised to find himself on common ground with the guy. “I don’t like my mom’s boyfriend, either.”
“Sheriff Trent?” Sarah turned to him, surprised. “He seems okay to me.”
Elliot disagreed. “That a-hole gave me a speeding ticket during spring break. I wasn’t going that fast. Any decent dude would’ve let me off with a warning.”
By the time the waitress came to take their orders, Luke and Elliot had bonded over their shared dislike of Cole Trent. As Luke talked trash about the guy, he experienced a brief moment’s guilt, picturing Aly’s face. She’d be hurt if she overheard his comments.
But she wasn’t here now. It wasn’t as though Luke was saying anything bad about her. When the food came, Luke discovered his appetite had returned. He plowed through his onion rings, embellishing the story of how he’d first met the sheriff and his daughters. He was beginning to think Elliot was a lot like Bobby Rowe—a good guy to have in your corner, you just had to impress him first. And Elliot was guffawing at Luke’s shoplifting story.
Luke had another twinge of guilt, recalling that it was Rick he’d stolen from. I gave it back. No harm, no foul.
“So you took stuff right under the sheriff’s nose and put it in his own kid’s purse?” Elliot cackled. “Priceless. That took guts, Sullivan.”
Luke had left out the part about not finding out who Cole was until afterward since the sheriff had been in civilian clothes. “Yeah, but he caught me. Oops, right?” He rolled his eyes, trying to look nonchalant about his brush with the law.
By ten o’clock, Luke was feeling better about the evening. Sarah was quieter than she usually was while barking out locations of loot while they were gaming, but even she had giggled during Luke’s story about the gas station heist. He wished he didn’t have to go home so soon. Lame curfew. What did his mom care when he got back, anyway? She was probably still out with him. Luke’s stomach tightened, making him regret the onion rings.
Sarah’s brother calculated the bill, and they all dropped cash into the middle of the table. Luke still had a couple of fives left over and tucked them back into his pocket. While they waited for the waitress to bring change, Elliot leaned across the table with a grin. “Hey, Sullivan, know what you should do?”
“What?”
Elliot pointed across the way where an older couple were leaving their booth. As they walked away, the man tossed a bill on the table for a tip. “You should snag that. Bet you could buy a couple of candy bars for that little girl, and the funniest part is, the sheriff would have no idea they were ‘stolen.’” He hooted with laughter, amused by his own scheme. “You could even show him the receipt!”
Luke frowned. “I don’t know.” He’d seen the candy bar as belonging to the station, not a person. Their waitress tonight had done a good job. Swiping tip money was stealing from her. What if she needed it?
Elliot raised an eyebrow. “I thought you had guts. Were you even telling us the truth about taking stuff before?”
“Lay off,” Sarah’s brother said. “Let’s just get out of here.”
“Why, because little Luke has to get home for beddy-bye time?” Elliot sounded disgusted, their earlier solidarity disappearing. “Come on, man up, Sullivan, it’s just a few bucks. No one’s talking about breaking into the bank.”
Next to Luke, Sarah squared her shoulders, surprising all three of them when she said softly, “I’ll do it.”
* * *
THEY NEVER ACTUALLY got to the soap opera pilot. Over a thoroughly delicious dinner of shrimp pasta, they’d spent so much time discussing music that, by the time they loaded the plates into the kitchen sink, Kate wanted to see his CD collection. They’d laughingly cited bands that would be relationship “deal-breakers” if they discovered either of them owned albums by those artists. Cole pulled a couple of velvety brown throw pillows to the floor and they sat there eating brownies and reminiscing about the first live concerts each of them had attended.
When Kate ran across a CD by a jazz artist she’d never heard of, Cole put in the disc. Piano and saxophone filled the room, and he asked her if she wanted to dance.
She smirked. “Is that your go-to move, Sheriff Trent? Ask a girl to dance, and the next thing you know, the two of you are making out?”
“Damn, you’re on to me. Guess it’s time to drop the pretense,” he said, taking the CD case from her hand as he leaned tantalizingly close, “and just skip to the making out.”
His lips closed over hers, tasting like Cole and chocolate, and she went dizzy with bliss. Their kisses were languid and unending, the most perfect seduction she could imagine. He swept her hair to the side, giving him better access to kiss her neck and tease her earlobe with his tongue. She shivered, the lazy pleasure she’d been enjoying yielding to neediness.
He rolled her back against the pillow, nipping at her throat as his hand skimmed her ribcage toward her breast. She ached with the need to be touched there. By the time his palm covered her through her clothes, she couldn’t contain a moan. She turned onto her side, hooking one leg over his, trying to bring their bodies closer together, which wasn’t easy in a skirt. She wished her dress was gone. She wished he’d untie
the halter top knotted at her nape.
But then she’d be undressed in front of him, would make love with him.
Well, yes, her hormones agreed ecstatically. That was the point. Yet her mind didn’t seem to agree. She’d be making love with a man. Who wasn’t her husband. It was like a macabre sort of virginity; there could only be one first time. Eyes burning with conflicting emotions, she rolled back, putting nearly a foot between them and trying to gulp in air. Damn it. This was no time for a panic attack!
“Kate?” To his credit, Cole didn’t crowd her. He paused, searching her gaze. “Was I rushing you? We don’t—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I was enjoying everything we did. I wanted more.”
He arched a brow, no doubt wondering why she’d suddenly bolted if she were enjoying his kisses so much. Unfortunately, she didn’t know if she could explain without sounding nuts. She wanted to have sex with Cole. She really did. And the visceral realization of how much she wanted it had broken her heart.
She sat up, tucking her knees to her chest. “After Damon died, I didn’t want to take the sheets off our bed. I knew that we’d slept in them together for the last time, and I didn’t want to wash them. It was like... When you lose someone, it seems like it would be all at once. They’re alive, then bam, they’re not. But that’s not how it is. You lose them in a thousand little ways, over and over.” A hot tear hit her arm, and she wanted to kick herself. They’d been having a wonderful night, and she was completely ruining it with her maudlin nonsense.
“Kate, it’s okay.”
She sniffed. “I want...you. But once I sleep with you, it’s another way I’ve said goodbye to him. A really big way.” She’d survived painful milestones like her first birthday post-Damon, the first Christmas without him, the smaller moments like the first time she’d picked up the phone and started to call his cell before remembering there’d never again be an answer at the other end. She’d worried about the first time she kissed another man, but kissing Cole had been so effortless and natural. It had given her an unrealistic sense of how easy this would be. “I th-thought I was ready...”
He stood, crossing the room, then returning a moment later with a tissue box.
She took it gratefully but couldn’t meet his gaze. What was the point in getting dolled up for a date if she was going to end up red-nosed with mascara pooling down her cheeks?
He knelt in front of her. “Sweetheart, look at me, please.”
Right now, the idea of letting him look into her eyes made her feel as exposed as if she were naked. She was trying to psych herself up to accomplish the tiny act of bravery when a jarring sound cut through the jazz still softly playing.
“That’s my phone.” She shot to her feet, grimly thankful for the interruption. Intellectually, she knew she and Cole would have to discuss this if there were any possibility of them moving forward. But emotionally, she wanted time to put this raging embarrassment behind her before facing him again. The number on her cell phone display was Luke’s. Was he calling to let her know he’d made it safely home before curfew?
Maybe it was fortuitous she and Cole had stopped when they did. She couldn’t imagine trying to pause in the middle of sex to talk to her son. “H-hello?”
But it wasn’t Luke’s voice that answered her. “Ms. Sullivan? This is Rick Jacobs, calling on Luke’s behalf. I’m at the diner on Main Street, where your son is currently talking to the manager. It might be a good idea for you to come down here.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yes, ma’am...but maybe in a little trouble. There seems to be some suspicion that he stole cash off a table, although Luke’s insisting the witness misunderstood.”
It wasn’t my fault this time. How often had she heard statements like that back in Houston? She choked back a sob, recalling her optimism earlier in the day. It seemed her confidence in herself and in her son had been misplaced. “I’m on my way.”
Chapter Ten
Luke was beginning to think he was going to hurl the onion rings back up. The flinty-eyed manager who’d hauled him into the stuffy back office clearly didn’t believe Luke’s story—that a breeze had fluttered the five-dollar bill to the floor and Luke had simply picked it up to put back on the table. Telling the truth would land Sarah in trouble. Luke wasn’t about to rat her out.
After saying she would take the tip money, she’d shot him a nervous smile as soon as Elliot was busy looking at his phone. Luke had the impression Sarah was trying to do him a favor so that her cousin would stop harping on him. Luke had wanted to tell her not to, but the words had stuck in his throat. After all, he’d been the one bragging about stealing in the first place.
Instead, he’d formulated a plan. He’d let Sarah swipe the money, then replace it with the cash in his pocket once the Pembertons were a few feet ahead of him. No harm, no foul. Except, a nosy customer who’d seen him standing at the table with a five in his hand had misunderstood the situation and accused Luke of stealing. The waitress who’d given him his onion rings with a friendly smile had glared daggers at him and called for the manager, asking that Luke be banned from the diner.
Elliot had glared, too, probably putting together what Luke had really been doing. He’d told the manager he and his cousin had to get Sarah home by curfew. That was when Rick had stepped up, saying that he was a friend of Luke’s mother and would call her. The Pembertons had bailed, leaving Luke behind.
Now, Luke sat at the front of the restaurant, where people traditionally waited for a table, with staff members eyeing him like he was a criminal while his mom made the drive from the sheriff’s house. Rick sat next to him, not abandoning him like the Pembertons, but not saying much, either. Luke wanted to ask if the man believed him, but it was difficult to get the question out since, technically, Luke wasn’t telling the whole truth.
Still, the silence was grating his nerves raw. He sighed as he watched his mom’s car turn into the parking lot. As much as he wanted to get out of here, he dreaded facing her. He had an image of himself grounded until he was roughly Gram’s age. “Mom is gonna lose her sh—her mind,” he amended at Rick’s reproachful look.
“Stop giving her reasons to,” the man said bluntly.
Luke slouched down, wanting to insist this was all Elliot’s fault. The creep had been goading him since before they even got to the diner. So why didn’t you ignore him, genius? Why try to impress him with the stupid candy-bar story? Not only was his mother going to be mad about Luke stealing, which he hadn’t even done, she was going to be ticked that her date had been interrupted. From the goofy smile she’d had all afternoon, he knew she’d really been looking forward to it.
She was not smiling when she walked inside. Her cheeks were blotchy, her eyes overly bright.
“Mom!”
Rick put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to have a word with your mother.”
The two adults stood off to the side, keeping their voices low. Luke couldn’t hear what they were saying, but his stomach sank even lower every time his mom darted a glance his way. He wished he knew whether Rick was putting in a good word for him or throwing him under the bus. He squirmed in his seat, wondering if the man would want his help again for the hospital magic show. Luke had enjoyed that. Performing for those kids had made him feel the same rush of pride he used to get when he showed his comics to classmates who thought the drawings were cool. He missed that.
Finally, Rick squeezed his mom’s arm and, with a nod in Luke’s direction, left. Next, she had to talk with the manager. Luke gathered from the bits he overheard that, since there wasn’t hard evidence that he’d been planning to walk out with the money, the manager didn’t feel as though he could ban him for life. However, he stressed that any time Luke came to the diner in the future, he would be watched very closely.
How was that fair? Elliot would go back
home, in no trouble at all, Sarah got to keep the five dollars she’d taken, but Luke would be treated like a criminal any time he had a craving for onion rings. Which, actually, might never happen again. Those might be ruined for life.
“Let’s go.” His mother’s voice was so soft his ears strained to hear her.
Was it a good sign that she wasn’t yelling? Maybe she just wanted to get him inside the car, away from witnesses. The farm was miles away from Main Street. He imagined his mom shoving him out of the vehicle in some darkened ditch. Even as the picture looped over and over in his mind like a GIF, he knew she’d never do anything like that. She loves me.
He swallowed, waiting as she unlocked the car. “How, um, was your date?” He wasn’t sure why he asked, but he had to say something. And he didn’t want to talk about what had happened in the diner. Besides, if there was even a slim possibility that talking about the sheriff might put that goofy smile back on her face, perhaps she’d be in too good a mood to ground Luke for sixty years.
“Don’t you dare.” Her voice was still low, but it sounded like a growl now, more ominous than it had in the diner. “It’s not easy for me, knowing you hate my relationship with Cole, but I respect your right to have feelings on the subject. Have enough respect for me not to stoop to brazen manipulation. It’s insulting and dishonest.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, a little surprised to find that it was true.
They’d been driving for five minutes before he spoke again. The tremor in his voice made him feel like a crybaby, but he couldn’t help it. “I didn’t take that money, I promise.”
Her silence was louder than any of the video games she told him to turn down because she could hear them even through his headset. “Give me one reason why I should believe you.”
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