“It’s a nice piece of property and the cottage has a lot of character even if it is on the small side,” she agreed. “I’m sure you’ll have no shortage of buyers. There’s not much available on the sunset side of the island, nor is there much vacant lake frontage left on the mainland let alone on Trillium.”
“You won’t mind new neighbors?” he asked.
Ali shrugged, even though the thought of sharing her private haven with other people held little appeal. It was bad enough that campers and hikers often sauntered into her midst from the surrounding state land. If she had the money, which she certainly did not at this point with every last penny sunk into the resort, she would make him an offer herself.
“Whoever buys it probably won’t stay year-round. I can tolerate anyone for a weekend or so,” she said meaningfully.
And with that she turned and walked back down the steps.
“See you later,” he hollered.
Ali waited until her slippers were touching sand to call back, “Goodbye, Luke.”
Back in her cottage, she had barely managed to pour herself another cup of coffee when she turned to find Luke on her deck, tapping insistently on the sliding glass door. He was still wearing one of his grandmother’s floral print towels around his waist. In his hands were the dripping garments in which he had taken his impromptu swim.
“What do you want?” she asked through the screen, although she figured she knew.
“Do you think you could throw these in your dryer for me?” His lips, she noted, were tinted blue and goose bumps covered the taut muscles of his chest.
Once upon a time, Ali might have wished Luke Banning would die a slow and painful death, but she didn’t want the man to expire from hypothermia while standing on her deck and ruin her perfectly good morning.
“Come in before you catch pneumonia,” she said, sliding the screen open. Once he was inside, she peeled off the oversize navy robe she wore and handed it to him, exchanging it for the wet bundle he held. “Here. Put this on.”
When he glanced at her curiously, she added, “It’s the only thing of mine that’s going to fit you.”
“Thanks.”
Luke nearly smiled as he shrugged into it. Ali was literally giving him the clothes off her back. He thanked God the robe was not some fluffy pink number, although even if it had been he still would have put it on. He’d never been so damned cold in all his life.
The soft fabric was warm from her body and it smelled like her, a subtle vanilla scent that he remembered from long ago. She looked like he remembered, too, but not quite. Without the robe, he could see that she was wearing a thin-strapped tank top and draw-string lounging pants. Silk lingerie couldn’t have been sexier or have done a better job of highlighting her small, firm breasts and long, tapered legs.
She crossed her arms over her chest, as if guessing the direction of his thoughts. “Do you want some coffee?”
“Please.”
She walked back into the kitchen and he followed her, glancing around as she got a mug down and filled it.
“You’ve done a lot of work in here, I see.”
Even that was an understatement. The room had been overhauled. Gone were the ruffled curtains and Formica countertops her grandmother had favored. It was now distinctly Ali with its terra-cotta-colored walls, rich granite countertops, maple cabinets and a no-nonsense Roman shade at the window over the sink. She’d always been one for clean lines and bold colors, and yet the place was definitely homey thanks to the framed botanical prints that hung on the wall next to the table. He had walk-in closets in his penthouse that were larger than the entire kitchen, but nothing about his modernly furnished apartment made him want to sigh.
He did now, though.
Luke blamed his sudden melancholy on the fact that he’d spent the night in his boyhood bed. Even with a decade’s worth of dust coating the furniture in his room, he’d sworn he could smell the lemon wood polish Elsie Banning had used. God, how he missed her. He’d half expected to hear his grandmother banging around in the kitchen when he’d woke that morning, as wrapped in memories as he had been tangled in musty sheets. But no bacon had been sizzling on the stove. The small room had been dark and oppressively quiet. He’d opened the cottage’s windows not so much to air out the interior as to bring in the sounds of nature. Anything to end that silence.
Of course, some nature had already found its way inside, he recalled now. And with a half grin he told Ali, “I think I have a family of raccoons in the attic. I heard something thumping around in the middle of the night.”
“You also have skunks under the back porch,” she replied, doing a lousy job of camouflaging her delight. “Or at least you did last summer. I nearly got sprayed when I was cutting down the weeds.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Nice to know somebody has gotten some use out of the place while I’ve been gone.” He finished off the coffee and pointed toward the machine on the counter behind her. “Do you mind?”
She moved out of the way. “Help yourself.”
As he refilled the mug, he said quietly, “I’m going to have to clean it out.”
“My coffeemaker?”
“No.” He took a sip of his hot beverage, scalding his tongue, but he knew that wasn’t why his eyes stung. “The cottage. I’m going to have to clean it out.”
“You can hire people for that.”
“I need to do it.” He pushed a hand through his hair, which was still damp. “I haven’t been in my grandmother’s room since she passed away. I closed the door the day she died and I never went back in. I need to go through her things.”
“I can help, if you’d like.”
He hadn’t expected her to offer. Her expression told him neither had she. Was it obligation that had prompted her kindness? He wanted to believe it was something more.
“Thanks, Ali. I’d appreciate that.”
“I miss her, too, you know. And my own Gran. They were good people, solid. You could depend on them.” She laid a hand on his arm, squeezed, and he found himself immersed in an unexpected eddy of emotions.
“Ali, I—”
But she was letting go of his arm and moving away.
“I’m going to get dressed. If you’re hungry, there’s milk in the fridge and cereal in the pantry. Bowls are in the same cupboard they always were. Help yourself.”
Good, solid, dependable. Ali was those things as well. But as he watched her disappear down the short hallway off the kitchen, Luke knew that it wasn’t only those attributes that had his stomach coiling into knots.
CHAPTER FOUR
ALI stood in her bedroom, staring sightlessly at the contents of the bureau drawer she’d pulled open. She was more than a little unnerved by Luke’s show of emotions. Even when they were dating he had played his feelings close to the vest. In her kitchen, however, for a brief time, his grief had been visible, damned near palpable, wafting off him like heat from asphalt in August. Even at Elsie’s funeral, he’d remained stoic, pushing Ali away when she’d tried to get close. Now, he hadn’t needed to push. Ali had distanced herself all on her own.
His arrogance the night before had made it easy for her to turn away. His need now made it all but impossible for her not to want to offer comfort, which she supposed was why she was in her room, staring at the neatly folded clothes that she had arranged by color, and wondering just what in the hell had possessed her to offer to help him clear out his grandmother’s belongings.
Blowing out a breath, she extracted a pair of shorts and a plain cotton T-shirt. She would go for a run, letting the crisp air clear her head of these thoughts and this newly resurrected need.
When she stepped back out into the living room, Luke was sitting in her favorite chair near the window, an empty cereal bowl on the table next to him and a fresh cup of coffee in his hands, judging from the steam curling over the lip.
He didn’t look at her when he said, “It’s easy to believe the rest of the world doesn’t exist when you sit
here and stare out at the lake.” He laughed then. “Hell, it’s easy to believe Wisconsin doesn’t exist.”
She’d had exactly that same thought from time to time, even though Green Bay was only about a hundred miles to the west.
“They say seeing is believing.”
He did turn now. “Going out for some exercise?”
“Yes.”
“I run, too.”
“Really?” That surprised her. Ali had averaged twenty-five miles a week since her junior year in high school, but Luke had never been one to pull on a pair of Nikes and join her.
“Took it up in New York,” he said on a shrug. “It’s easy to fall into an unhealthy lifestyle there when you work long hours and eat out.”
“Amazingly we have the same pitfalls here,” she said dryly.
His smile was slightly sheepish. “I guess so.”
“I’ll be back in about an hour,” she said, kneeling down to tie her shoes. “I’m sure your clothes will be dry before then.”
One of his eyebrows rose. “Eager to be rid of me, I see. Should I lock up when I leave?”
Ali sighed, the gulf between them seeming to widen once more. “This is Trillium, Luke. Only the seasonal residents flip their dead bolts.”
He frowned. “You should, too, you know, especially being out here on your own and surrounded by state land where anyone is welcome to tramp on through.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Don’t you think I can take care of myself?”
“I’d rather not find out. Bad things can happen anywhere, Ali.”
She tried to be put out by his misplaced concern and yet she couldn’t help but feel oddly touched.
“I do lock up at night,” she admitted. “Satisfied?”
That one word seemed to hang in the air between them. The three innocuous syllables took on a whole new meaning when Luke’s gaze strayed to her lips.
It was a long moment before he said, “I guess that’s better than nothing.” Then he stood. “Mind if I take a shower while you’re gone?”
“Help yourself.”
Once outside, Ali ran as if the hounds of hell were chasing her and she paid for it. She had a nasty stitch in her side after the first mile that made even a brisk walk painful. Still, she pressed on, giving Luke time to take his shower, dress in his dry clothes and clear out of her cottage.
When she arrived home he was gone, but that didn’t save her from thinking about him. Little reminders were everywhere. His bowl and spoon were on the counter next to his coffee mug. She rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. Then she cleaned out the coffeepot and tossed out the grounds, trying to eradicate every reminder of his presence. She almost managed it in the kitchen, but the bathroom was another story. A second plush blue towel hung beside hers on the bar next to the old-fashioned claw-foot tub.
She tugged off her sweaty clothes and turned on the shower. Stepping under the spray it occurred to her that she didn’t see a washcloth anywhere. Reaching for the soap, she pictured rather vividly Luke working that very same bar into a thick lather while he stood naked in the same spot. Disgusted with herself, she turned the spray to cold. The jerk was back a matter of days and already he had her fantasizing.
By midmorning she had rearranged the furniture in her cozy living room, packed away her winter clothes and swept the deck. She planned to wash the windows on the side of the cottage that faced the lake. She was a worker, not a lounger, which is why even with a coveted few days off from her job, she was determined to be productive and make the most of her time. Her parents often chided her for being too busy.
“You need to take some time for yourself,” was a familiar refrain whenever she spoke with them on the telephone.
Time to do what? Manicure her nails or goop some green gunk on her cheeks for a facial? That was what Audra would do, but Ali had never seen the point in such pampering. Or at least that’s what she’d told herself. She glanced down at her hands. They were roughened from work, the nails filed to a short and practical length. Just the night before those fingers had gripped Luke’s broad shoulders, the blunt tips sinking into firm muscle as she’d held on.
She let out a sigh and went in search of a ladder.
Luke was sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs on her deck when she returned. For a man who’d once walked out of her life with such apparent ease, she was having a hard time getting rid of him now.
“And he’s back again,” she muttered.
Luke grinned. “Your hospitality makes it hard to stay away.”
“What do you want now?”
“There’s a loaded question,” he said. When she scowled, he turned serious. “I thought we could go over the property if you’ve got the time. Weather is perfect for a hike and I’d really like a firsthand look.”
“I told you I’m on vacation this week.”
He inclined his head toward the ladder. “A working vacation?”
“So? I’ve never been one for sitting around.”
“Well, if it’s a working vacation, then you won’t mind taking a walk with me in the name of business.”
She opened her mouth to refuse, but then changed her mind. He was bound to continue pestering her.
Sighing heavily, she replied, “Let’s get this over with.”
Fifteen minutes later, she had donned a pair of hiking boots and stood next to her car waiting for Luke to walk over. Instead he rumbled up her drive on the Harley.
She eyed the bike tucked between his denim-clad legs and said, “You’re not expecting me to get on that thing, are you?”
The words came out sharp because part of her wanted to. Part of her wanted to be reckless and throw all caution to the wind for a change.
“Come on, Ali,” he coaxed seductively. “It will be like old times.”
His promise had heat curling through her system, which she fought to ignore. And the part of her that remained firmly planted in the practical, said, “We can take my car.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“It left town about the same time you did,” she replied, raising one eyebrow for emphasis.
But Luke only grinned. “Come on, Alice. Live a little.”
“Don’t call me Alice.”
He merely revved the bike’s engine, well aware that she detested the use of her full name.
“I’ll get on if you’ll agree to wear a helmet,” she told him at last.
She figured she had him there, but Luke reached behind him and grabbed the one that was strapped onto the back of the black leather seat.
He started to put it on, but then stopped and smiled. “Of course, if I wear it, then you won’t have one. Are you sure you want me to have it?”
She wrenched it from his hands and put it on, muttering curses as she secured the strap under her chin. Then she hiked a leg over the seat and settled in behind him.
She planned to hold on to the back of the seat, angled as far away from his body as she could manage. But then he shot off down the bumpy road and her good intentions were left in the dust. Ali would have been left in the dust as well if she had not snagged a handful of Luke’s T-shirt. She fisted the fabric in her fingers before the wind could plaster it against his taut abdomen, and then gave up completely. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned in. She was flush against his back from her shoulders to the V of her thighs, and the humming sensation she felt had nothing to do with the motorcycle’s vibration as it skimmed over the rutted road.
Fifteen minutes of delicious torture later, they arrived at Saybrook’s. She hopped off the Harley as soon as it came to a stop, needing distance but wanting something else entirely.
“I thought we were going to walk over the property?” she said.
“I wanted to grab some fresh clothes first.” He wrinkled his nose. “These smell like lake water.”
And here she’d thought they’d smelled like him.
“I won’t be long. You can wait in my suite if you’d like.” The
smile that accompanied his suggestion had her shaking her head.
“I’ll wait down here, thanks.” As she tried to work the helmet’s chin strap free, she said, “You still drive like an idiot.”
He stepped in front of her, and just as he had done a hundred times when they were younger, he pushed her hands away, unhooked the strap and pulled off the helmet. Her hair tumbled free. She had scooped it all up inside before leaving the cottage. The move was practical. The wind would have tangled it into painful knots. Luke set the helmet on the bike’s seat now and reached out to comb his fingers through it, holding on to the ends and using them to draw her closer.
“You always had the softest hair,” he said, his tone so low she almost thought she had imagined the words.
A car pulled into the parking lot then, intruding on the moment and saving Ali from having to speak. As Luke’s hands fell away from her hair, she wondered what she would have said in response to his intimate observation anyway.
She managed to walk into the resort on liquid limbs, eager to barricade herself behind the safety of her desk until she got a grip on her pulse. Of course, Audra was in the lobby when Ali and Luke entered. Her twin waved to Luke as he headed toward the elevator and fell into step beside Ali.
“Out for a joy ride with Luke?”
“Not a joy ride. It’s business,” she said, proud that she sounded so blasé when her pulse was still zipping along in overdrive and her skin felt as hot as the Harley’s exhaust pipe. “Luke and I are going to walk over the golf course site.”
“What are you doing here, then?” Audra asked.
“He needed a change of clothes.”
She wanted to kick herself as soon as the words were spoken.
Audra, of course, was grinning broadly. “A change of clothes, hmm? Does that mean he didn’t come back to the resort last night?”
They reached the management offices and Ali entered her well ordered one without bothering to reply. Audra, of course, turned in as well, closing the door behind her.
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