Page 30 of Luke

"Not all of them," he said with a laugh. "But I have to say that I've seen amazing light shows from some of the highest mountain peaks in the world."

"And here I was just about to tell you that there's a rooftop patio perfect for stargazing."

"Good to know."

She licked her lips, and her eyes darkened, and he wanted nothing more than to lean across the island and kiss her again.

She must have read his mind, because she was suddenly on her feet. "I should talk to Kaitlyn," she said.

He was disappointed, but maybe it was for the best. He rose. "I'll clean up."

"No, I'll come back and do that later."

"I don't think cleaning up after me is in your job description."

"It's a few plates, and I know where everything goes. Really, it's fine. I'll walk you out so I can lock up."

She moved to the door, waiting for him to follow.

"Thanks for the meal," he said, as they left the kitchen.

"Of course."

As they walked through the dining room into the living room, he paused at the sight of the piano in the corner. "I remember that piano—or at least one that looked like that one. My mom used to sing at night with some of the other guests." He shook his head. "So strange, the memories that come back to me of her."

"You never talked about your mom when we were together."

"Not much to talk about. I barely remember her. Just bits and pieces come into my head, usually only when I'm around family or the house where I grew up, but being here reminds me of those family trips we used to take together."

"It's nice to have some memories. I don't remember my father at all. He didn't die, but he was gone before my third birthday."

"Do you know where he is? Have you ever seen him?"

"No to both questions. I have no interest in looking for him. He abandoned us. There's really nothing more to know."

"How's your mother?"

"She's the same. She still works at the salon, at least a couple of days a week. She has her battles with depression and alcohol. She can be good for a while, and then she's not. She fell apart after Kelly died. Kelly didn't just take care of me when we were growing up; she took care of my mom, too. But I think she's pulling herself out of the deep sadness. She called the other day to ask how Kaitlyn was; I thought that was a good sign."

He thought it was impressive that Lizzie had always been able to cut her mother slack for not being that great of a mom. But Lizzie had a big heart and the ability to understand that everyone had a weakness, everyone had a flaw. She used to tell him that she really believed the other side of a weakness was a strength, and you just have to find it.

Funny, he hadn't remembered that until now, but it was something that had helped him persevere when he thought he was too tired or too frustrated or too impatient to get to where he needed to go. Certainly impatience to have it all was one of his flaws. On the other hand, it was that impatience that drove him.

Lizzie had never been impatient. She'd been driven to succeed in music, but she'd been willing to play the scales over and over again, go to class, take tests, prepare and prepare and prepare. That dedication probably wasn't her flaw, but it had sometimes annoyed him when he'd wanted her to jump or take a risk and she'd wanted to assess every potential outcome, which usually meant he went ahead without her.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked curiously. "You have an odd look on your face."

"Just remembering how we used to be together."

"You really shouldn't keep going back there, Luke. We're not those people anymore. We've both changed. We've grown up."

He smiled. "You probably more than me."

She smiled back at him. "You said it; I didn't."

"Why don't you play something for me?"

"No," she said quickly, giving a vehement shake of her head. "I don't play that piano."

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