“Our youngest son, James,” Claire continued, pointing at a slightly younger, leaner version of Luke who was making short work of an apple. He winked at her.
“Sophie, you know,” Claire put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders and Harper was struck by their resemblance. All dark hair and olive tones. “And this is her husband, Ty Adler, and their little one, Josh.”
“Nice to see you again, Slugger,” Ty, in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans instead of his deputy’s uniform, said while tickling the mini me toddler on his shoulders.
“This is Uncle Stu and Aunt Syl,” Claire said, waving at the mustached man Luke had pointed out at Remo’s last night and his smiling, lanky wife. “And I think that takes care of the introductions.”
“Hi, um, everyone,” Harper said, waving awkwardly. “I’m Harper.”
“Hi Harper,” they answered in unison.
Luke sighed and took Harper’s hand, leading her through the throng. The floor did, in fact squeak under her foot.
“Smells good in here, Ma. What’s for lunch?”
The crowd filed into the spacious kitchen behind them. Something bubbled away on the granite island’s range. Claire slapped Luke’s hand away from the glass candy dish.
“Pot roast with mashed potatoes and roasted root vegetables. We’ll be ready in about half an hour. So why don’t you give Harper the grand tour and get out of my way? Harper, can I get you a glass of wine?”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Garrison. But I really would like that tour.”
“It’s Claire, please. And you two go ahead. We’ll call you when lunch is ready.”
“You’re finally going to let me have a girl in my room? It’s about time.” Luke put his hands on Harper’s shoulders and pushed her back down the hallway.
“Sorry,” he whispered in her ear.
She enjoyed the tickle of his breath against her skin. “That was only a little awkward.”
“Awkward and suffocating.” He guided her towards the stairs.
The farmhouse was laid out in a simple four-square formation on the first floor with the two rooms on the right opening into each other to create one large gathering room. Pictures plastered the walls and flat surfaces and there was a mixture of antiques and modern amenities. It was homey.
His hands slid to her hips as she started to climb the stairs. She leaned back against his chest as they ascended.
“If this is too much, tell me,” he said. “Soph said to sell it.”
“I don’t mind,” she said, her pulse jumping.
The stairs opened up into a wide hallway of sorts with a window seat built over short bookcases. “What a great way to use this space!” Harper leaned down to get a closer look. The shelves were stuffed with paperbacks and photo albums, each neatly labeled with a year range or name.
Luke stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Dad and I built this years ago after Mom ran out of room in the den.”
“Can I look at Luke One?” Harper fingered the spine of a navy blue linen album.
“Uh. Sure,” he said unenthusiastically.
Harper didn’t wait for him to change his mind. She plopped down on the thick cushion of the window seat and began to page through. “You were pretty adorable as a toddler.” She peered at a picture of three-year-old Luke trying to put on his father’s tool belt, grinning with pride.
He sat down next to her and grimaced. “Why don’t we look at Soph’s album —”
“Don’t even think about it, Handysome.”
“Repeat that name again and I’m going to have to murder you.”
“Roger that, Lukey Bear,” she said, un-phased by the threat. “Oh, look at your first day of kindergarten! That backpack is bigger than you are.”
Luke sighed heavily and wiped his hands down his face.
Harper paged through Luke’s childhood, pausing to admire his woodworking skills on a birdhouse in Boy Scouts. On the pages of the album he transformed from a gawky pre-teen to a hunky teenager. He was captured triumphantly crossing the finish line at a track meet and grinning as he led his football team off the field.
“Wow. You must have broken a lot of teenage girl hearts.”
“I’m sure you did your fair share of impressing the boys.”
“I was flat-chested and gangly until I was seventeen. It wasn’t impressing, it was depressing.”
“I’d like to see photographic evidence of that,” he teased.
“Thankfully, there is no photographic evidence of my awkward teen years.”
“How is that even possible?”
His grin faded when she turned the page.
“Look at you at Homecoming!” Harper pulled the album closer and studied Luke in a suit, stoically staring at the camera on a gray speckled backdrop. A gaudy crown perched on his head. He had his arm around a willowy brunette in a sparkling silver gown that perfectly matched the tiara. “Homecoming king and queen? You really had a fairy tale life, didn’t you?”