Page 52 of This Loving Feeling (Mirror Lake)

At the guesthouse, he and Sam tag teamed putting Stevie to bed. She turned down the covers and fished out a pair of pajamas, and they managed to change him out of his uncomfortable clothes and tuck him into bed.

Sam had already left the room when Stevie’s eyes suddenly flickered open and focused on Lukas. “Are you going to send me away ’cause I caused trouble?” He reached for his blanket, which Sam had wisely tucked next to his pillow.

“Trouble?” Lukas frowned. “You didn’t cause any trouble.”

“Yes I did. When we first got there. I was mad.”

Lukas knelt down next to Stevie and held his still-chubby little-boy hand. “You didn’t cause any more trouble than any kids cause every day. Everyone gets cranky. I don’t stop loving you just because you’re having a bad day.”

“So I get to stay?”

Lukas placed his hand on the little boy’s shoulder. “Stevie, my boy, there’s a saying in Greek.”

“What’s that?”

“Mi casa es tu casa. Do you know what that means?”

He shook his head.

“It means we’re family, and wherever I go, you go, too. Dig?”

“Dig.”

Lukas did a fist bump with him.

“I love you, Uncle Lukas,” he said, pulling his blanket close and tucking it under his chin.

Those three little words caught Lukas off guard. Something in his chest grew very heavy. His throat became clogged. He was not a crying man, but by God, tears burned in his eyes. He smoothed the hair back from Stevie’s forehead. “You too, buddy. I love you, too.” His voice sounded muted and choked, but Stevie didn’t seem to notice. He just smiled innocently and turned on his side. Lukas kissed him on the cheek and pulled up the covers.

As Lukas turned to leave, he noticed a flash of Sam’s leg turning the corner. When he shut Stevie’s door, Sam was halfway across the main room. Until she stubbed her baby toe on the coffee table and let out a fisherman’s curse.

In a flash, Lukas was next to her. “You okay?” he asked.

“Of course. I was just ...”

“Eavesdropping?” he said with a grin.

She took off her flip-flop and rubbed her toe. “You do know themi casathing is Spanish, right?”

“Yeah, well, since I only know cuss words in Greek, it’ll have to do.”

“You’re a good father, Lukas.”

His kid had just saidI love you, and that meant everything. “Considering I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment.” He moved a step closer. “Want me to look at your toe?”

“No, thanks.” She backed up a step. “You were an excellent clown today, too.”

He edged closer. She backed up another step.

“Look,” she said, “I want you to know that my family is finally getting to know you, and they like you. You charmed the kids, everybody. I just thought you should hear that.”

“Did I charm you, too?”

She couldn’t walk backwards anymore, because she was about to run into the couch. He put an arm on her waist to let her know what was behind her. And because he wanted to.

That one touch was lethal. Her gaze flickered upward and settled on his. He detected worry and conflict, the same emotions coursing through him. Any sensible man would back off now, but when had he ever been sensible? He wanted her too damn badly.

In one smooth move, he pulled her to him and held her, reveling in the feel of her in his arms at last. Her heady scent, the flowery smell of her hair, the softness of her breasts pushing against his chest, he took it all in like a drug. His breath was coming harder now. With one heavy sigh, he heaved all of his inhibitions—and his common sense—away and lowered his lips to hers.

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