Page 79 of Just Trouble

“Live a little, Daph. Ever been on a bike?”

“No.”

“Trust me then. It’s good, even in the rain.”

I smile. “Okay. See you then.”

He leans closer, his arm tightening around me. “I do like the look,” he murmurs, his gaze roving over me before he bends closer and gives me a kiss. I can tell it’s supposed to be a quick sweet one—a courtship kiss, maybe—but I have an opinion about that, too. I lean into it and deepen the kiss, tangling my fingers in his hair to pull him closer. He makes a little groan of capitulation and pulls me closer, our tongues tangling as the temperature rises on the porch.

Luke pulls away with obvious reluctance, his eyes dark. “You’re not playing fair, Daph,” he says with quiet heat and I smile.

“It is my diabolical plan to get you naked again,” I admit.

He gives a mock roar and swings me up in his arms, kissing me once more before he puts me on my feet in front of my own door. “Friday. Six,” he says, as if I could ever forget, and then he jumps off the porch and strides into the darkness. He’s moving with purpose, as if he knows he won’t go if he lingers any longer, and I watch with a smile.

It’s so good to know that I’m not the only one in lust.

I can’t wait for Friday.

Funny how timecan pass both quickly and with excruciating slowness when you’re looking forward to something. I see Luke coming and going on Thursday. There’s a constant stream of tradespeople at the café, and Willow must be working there full-time.

Friday morning, my dad and I have our routine breakfast meeting. They have a quiche special at Eggs-traordinary so I go for that, reasoning that I’ll skip lunch.

My dad has been quiet but once we’ve ordered, he slides an envelope across the table to me. I must look wary, because he smiles. “Go on. Open it.”

“What’s this?” I ask as I flip it open. There’s a copy of a property title inside and I feel my eyes narrow as I read the address—on Queen Street in Empire.

“Me being reminded of a basic truth,” he says, stirring his coffee then taking a sip.

I’m counting buildings and trying to identify the address. “Is this the Foreman building?”

My dad nods. “Last Thursday night, I noticed your young man waiting for you on your porch and spoke to him.”

“He’s not my young man, Dad.”

It seems like such an old-fashioned way to refer to Luke that I have to protest.

On the other hand, I can’t say to my dad that Luke’s my lover. Not out loud.

Even though he knows.

Dad raises a hand and continues. “Whether he is or not, he knows something more about you than I did. Or maybe he just understands you better.”

“Luke?”

“I asked him why he’d included that property in his list for Patrick.”

“So Patrick would have something easy to eliminate.”

My dad shakes his head, taking another package of sugar. He’s trying to cut back, but it’s a battle he loses with his first coffee. “Luke planned to give that property to you.”

I blink.

“He has this idea that there’s merit in giving someone what they most desire, or the opportunity they want most, rather than just paying them in cash. He wanted to give you the opportunity which he believed you must want.” My dad meets my gaze. “That is, to set up a practice on your own.”

“We talk about this all the time,” I remind him, my heart in my throat, and he nods, his expression a little rueful.

“We do, but I haven’t really listened to you. I was sure that I knew best, that it would be the smartest choice for you to learn my business and eventually inherit it.” My dad empties that package of sugar into his coffee and stirs it again. He nods approval when he tastes it this time, then he looks at me again. “I was reminded that you are a clever and ambitious woman, and that the weakness of my plan was your inevitable boredom. Luke reminded me that smart people need challenges and purpose, and that paperwork for Cavendish Enterprises was unlikely to offer that kind of fulfillment.”

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