Page 96 of Just Trouble

“Okay,” he agrees with a smile.

I reach out and brush an imaginary speck of dust from his lapel, just needing to touch him. He smells fabulous, too. “You clean up well,” I say and his grin flashes.

“You look beautiful, Daph,” he says, sobering as he gives me another smoky look. “Are you okay to walk in those shoes?”

“Yes, but not as quickly as you usually walk.”

“I have no issues taking our time.”

I lock the door and he offers his elbow, escorting me from the porch. I smile, thinking about courtship.

“If you’d rather I swept you off your feet, Daph, just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, because I will.

It’s lovely to walk together on an early summer night. There’s a breeze coming off the lake, cool but not cold, and the skies are clear. The sun is setting in an orange blaze of glory and I know the stars will be out later. I like walking alongside Luke, feeling his arm under my hand and his heat close to my side. That makes it feel like a beginning instead of an ending. I remind myself that now is what’s important, though my sucker heart doesn’t quite believe.

We talk about the weather, and our hopes for Merrie’s new venture. He tells me about the manic rush to get everything done on time, but won’t admit anything more about his week. Evidently, he went to Toronto for the suit, but beyond that, he’s like a sphinx.

Nothing has prepared me for the solid line of cars parked on Queen Street, every spot filled on either side of the street on this side of Big Red. I can hear jazz and smell wonderful food as we approach the restaurant. I cast Luke a smile and am going to comment on that when a car door slams and someone blocks my path.

“The ever-exquisite Daphne!” Rafe roars with characteristic enthusiasm. I catch a glimpse of Luke’s surprised expression, then I’m caught in a careful hug, having my cheeks kissed and my dress admired. Rafe even spins me around in front of him, ignoring Luke completely until I stop him and make introductions.

“He invited himself,” I confess to Luke in an undertone, and I get a look for that.

“You said a friend,” he says through his teeth.

“Yes.”

“I thought a girlfriend,” Luke says though his teeth.

Oh! Before I can explain that Rafe is a friend and only a friend, Sylvia is before us. “Table for four,” she says and leads the way into the candlelit shadows of The Carpe Diem Café.

Rafe, predictably, leads the way.

24

LUKE

Let’s just get this straight. I’m not the jealous type. I’m not lacking in confidence either. I’m not possessive or domineering—but I do like to know where I stand. That’s only natural.

And since I feel the way I do about Daph, it’s imperative to know what’s what.

To be fair, I didn’t even wonder. I thought everything was right on track—until this guy stepped out of his black Lexus SUV with gold accents and right into our path.

Not a girlfriend.

Even the car gets up my nose. It’s a huge gleaming beast of a vehicle and I swear it exhaled like a bull when he parked right in front of The Carpe Diem Café. The thing looks like a complicated watch—you know the ones that tell you the barometric pressure and the closing prices of the stock market in Tokyo instead of just the time and date. I’m sure it has every possible option. For a moment, I think the driver is some random jerk and that the choice of ride is compensating for something.

But when he greets Daph with an enthusiasm she obviously shares, I hope the big hunk of steel gives it up in the middle of a desert somewhere sometime, just because.

Raphael Rossetti is handsome, apparently as rich as Croesus, and Daph’s so-called friend.

I do not like Rafe.

This is almost purely because Daph seems to adore him. They exchange cheek kisses and a hug that lasts a little too long. They tease each other about what they’re each wearing, admiring and critiquing like BFFs, then finally remember yours truly, waiting on the sidewalk. I think Rafe restrains an urge to toss me his keys, like I’m a carhop, and good thing, too.

He might have gotten them back in his teeth.

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