The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor(62)

He was filthy from his thick hair to the tips of boot-encased toes. The jeans and T-shirt he wore were as far from salvageable as Simon’s baseball uniform had been after trying to slide into home plate half a dozen times.

“Clearing ten years worth of weeds.” He pulled off suede gloves and swiped his upper arm across his sweaty forehead. “Clears my head.”

“Uh-huh.” She hefted the pie plate. “Well, you have had a busy week. I had some extra blackberries. Thought you might like it.” Oh, please, could the cohesive-thought fairies land on her with some inspiration? She sounded like an idiot.

“You baked me a pie?” He looked as if she’d brought him a truck full of gold.

“Charlie and I did,” Holly explained. “She’s been getting a little bored with Simon and his comic books so she asked if I’d teach her to bake. The lattice crust is a little crooked, but—”

He moved toward her, his gaze alternating between what she’d brought him and...well...her. She swallowed, trying not to think about how nervous he made her or the fact that he was most definitely a male of the species. Or that it had been nearly two years since she’d even thought of looking at a man the way Luke was looking at her...pie.

“Thank you.” He tucked his gloves under his arm and took the pan from her. “Come on in.” He whistled. “Cash! Inside!”

The dog came racing along the same path Luke had taken, darting between them and diving into the house before Luke had the door completely open.

“You have him trained.” Holly stopped cold in the doorway. The house was so...gray. She could see a coating of dust on the sofa and coffee table. The ancient TV set may as well have been from a 1950s sitcom and the yellowed flower wallpaper had begun to peel free, as if trying to escape. She didn’t see any hint of a history, no pictures or remnants of the eighteen years he’d lived here. There was nothing except the bare necessities. No wonder he didn’t spend a lot of time here. She was getting depressed just looking at it.

“You can see why I’m thinking about tearing it down.” Luke was watching her with nary a hint of emotion on his face. “Not much to salvage. Definitely not much to look at.”

“It needs some...light?” she mentioned hopefully.

Luke shook his head. “You really do look for the silver lining. The kitchen’s better. Come on back.”

“Oh, I really just came by to bring you the pie. The bonus of having two waitresses now. Paige and Twyla are holding down the diner until I get back. Business is picking up again. Thanks to you, actually,” she added, as she followed his voice. Oh. She blinked against the sun streaming through the windows. The kitchen was definitely dated, with its thin cabinetry and chipped Formica countertops. Did they even make appliances in buttercup yellow anymore? But the room had been given a good scrubbing, from the scarred wood floor to the small kitchen table situated near a bay window beside a china cabinet stuffed to the gills.

“Better, right?”

“Much.” She set her purse on the counter. At least there was some color in an otherwise dreary dwelling. How could anyone, let alone a young boy, ever have flourished here?

“Stay for some coffee. And pie.” He angled it in her direction. “I hear it was made by a master baker. I need to clean up first.”

She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t... “Sure.” She hadn’t felt this jittery in a long time.

He pulled off the foil and looked at what was clearly a seven-year-old’s first baking attempt. “Perfect.” Luke grinned. “Just the way I like my crust. With homemade character.”

Holly’s heart clenched. He always said the right thing. “You know if I tell her you said that she’ll go all googly-eyed on you for months.”

“That kid won my heart yesterday.” He hit the button on the automatic coffeemaker. “Did she and Simon tell you about the rats we found out back of the center?”

“Simon’s not great with rodents.” Spiders and insects were another story, and hermit crabs...? Holly shuddered. She’d lost count of the number of vacated shells she’d stepped on over the years.

“So I learned.” Luke chuckled. “Charlie went right in and scooped them into a box. Asked me to drive her into the grove on the other side of town so she could let them go. Carpooling rats. Who would have thought? I’ll be right back.”

Holly frowned. “Didn’t she realize how dangerous—” She stopped following Luke when she realized he was headed upstairs, probably to his bedroom. She spun around to search the cabinets for plates and flatware before making quick work of the pie.