More than Exist(38)

Maybe I needed to go have my head examined.





Chapter 27





I had a table set up in the living room, off to the side, and I was in the middle of covering it with food when Luke’s guests began to arrive.

I had Ginger’s seven-layer dip, chips, homemade salsa, ceviche, summer sausage, cheese, crackers, and assorted nuts out so far. I figured that would get them started, and hold them over while I made the hot dishes.

“There’s my girl,” Hank said with a wink as he pulled me in for a hug. Luke’s father was an unabashed flirt, and an all-around great man. Luke and Matty were so lucky to have him in their everyday lives, and I knew he was grateful everyday that his son had chosen the ranch life. “You got some good eats for us today?”

“You know it,” I responded with a smile. “I may even have a special surprise for you later,” I hinted, laughing when he clapped his hands together.

Luke’s father had a major sweet tooth, and I was making lemon bars and dump cake to serve with coffee toward the end of the game.

I went back to the kitchen, hoping to blend into the background so as not to interrupt the men and their bonding ritual.

I was buttering the sourdough bread for the mini grilled cheese with strawberry sandwiches when I heard a long whistle and looked up. Leaning against the wall watching me with a wicked grin on his face was a handsome man with dirty-blonde hair that was a touch too long.

“You must be Belle,” the stranger said as he pushed off and sauntered toward me. “I was beginning to think you were a myth, or some dream that Luke was lucky enough to keep having, but here you are, every bit as gorgeous as he said.”

I felt myself blush at his compliments, and I wondered if Luke had really told this man I was gorgeous, as I wondered who the heck he was.

“I’m Jones,” the handsome devil said, reaching out his hand to take mine, then turning it to place a soft kiss on my palm.

“From Vegas,” I whispered without thinking, when the name registered as the one Luke had mentioned.

“The very one,” he admitted with a jaunty bow. “Luke wouldn’t shut up about you for weeks after that night, and then one day you drop out of the sky and into his kitchen, which has me wondering … Are you an angel sent from heaven to heal his old wounds?”

I chuckled nervously at his mirth, he was obviously a character, but my heart stilled at his mention of Luke talking about me for weeks.

“Nope, just a human woman,” I answered, playing along. He seemed harmless enough, and it was nice to meet one of Luke’s friends.

“He’s not bothering you, is he?” Luke asked as he strolled in to clap his friend on the back. “Don’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth.”

“Don’t let him fool you, he loves me,” Jones said, then added, “And I must love him too, to come to a Super Bowl party with no beer!”

They said something else, but it fell on deaf ears. I barely noticed when they left the kitchen, my heart pounding in my ears as Jones’s statement played over in my head.

How had I not realized that I’d never seen alcohol in this house? No beer in the fridge, no wine on the counter, no secret cabinet filled with liquor bottles.

I gazed out to where the voices of excited men sounded, puzzled and awestruck. Did Luke not drink, or had he cleared out his home for me? And now, he was having a party in his house, but he’d put a ban on alcohol? At a Super Bowl party?

Could he have done that for me?

I tried to process all of the possibilities as I readied the chicken wings, barbeque meatballs, sandwiches, and fried shrimp.

“That’s a ton of food,” Luke’s voice drew me out of my reverie and I watched him come toward me warily. “Are you okay?”

I didn’t respond. I was trying to figure out what to say, which made him worried.

“Did Jones say something to upset you?” he asked, looking over his shoulder as if expecting to see his friend there. “Look, I’m sorry I told him about Vegas, but honestly, I never expected to see you again when I did … And then when you showed up here, well, I had to talk about it with someone.”

“No,” I said, finally finding my voice. “It isn’t that.”

“But there is something wrong,” he prompted.

“Do you drink? Normally, I mean. I know you haven’t had anything since I’ve been here, at least not in front of me, but I’d swear that in Vegas you’d had something.”

“Yeah, I do occasionally drink, but not all the time.”

“Why haven’t I seen anything in your house? Not that I’ve been looking,” I assured him. “In fact, I just realized it, especially after Jones said that he wasn’t allowed to bring beer.”