Page 17 of Such A Good Guy

CHAPTER 5

Luna

Traveling with Luke O’Neill was always a memorable experience for an introvert like myself.

While I always solo traveled with my head down, my nose in my Kindle, and trying to talk to the fewest amount of people, he was a fucking inexhaustible fount of energy. Chatty, friendly, with a kind word for everyone he passed. He had compliments for everyone, from a big tip to the limo driver for dropping us off at the airport, to praise for the shitty burgers we picked up for $25 apiece, to the flight attendant for our seats in first class. Even the pilot got a hearty handshake, wink, and offer to help.

Even the cheesiest fucking shit was gold when it came from Luke.

And boy, it was fucking easy as shit to walk through an airport with him. That gleaming angel’s smile, his easy, friendly magnetism had every travel agent shepherding him through the process, guiding him to the front of the lines so he wouldn’t be inconvenienced.

He apologized to everyone for cutting in line as they guided us past.

And once they turned around they ate it up, because he gleamed like the absolute sun.

The annoying thing about his perfections was that although Luke was a chatterer, he always seemed to know when I was tired of playing cards or cribbage and just wanted to nap.

“Thank you,” I said sleepily as he stretched his tall form to grab a blanket for me.

“No problem,” he said.

`His T-shirt rode up a bit, showing the dark lines of his tattoos winding in looping spirals up his ribs and side. I tried not to look at his flat tanned stomach, the gleaming lines of muscle, and how he had tattooed himself in so many different languages.

“What do they all say?” I asked, annoyed to realize I was having to repress a desire to reach out and touch them.

Ovulation could go fuck itself because this wasLukewe were talking about here.

No one could be less compatible with me than a man who literally stopped at every single mall kiosk and explained earnestly that he could not purchase the product but he wished them well in future endeavors.

“Do you really want to know?” Luke asked. “They are special to me.”

This set off warning bells in my head. I shouldn’t be looking, and this could spiral out of control if I let it.

“Never mind,” I said hastily, ignoring the buzz on my skin. “I’m going to go to sleep now. It’s a long flight.”

He looked perfectly happy and unperturbed at this, and I tried to focus on him through narrowed eyes.

What had been that expression I had seen on his face?

Was I just so sleep-deprived after my flights that I had imagined it?

There wasnothingfucking feral about Luke O’Neill.

He didn’t even try to cop a feel as he tucked the blanket around me, his hands always at the appropriate, very friendly level.

My breasts still absolutely ached, throbbingly painful underneath my shirt, and I wanted to rip the fabric off, do anything to relieve their swollen heat, but of course I couldn’t do that.

The next day we flew into Nunavut, my eyes glued to the window as I watched permafrost and rocky tundra with scrubby trees pass by underneath. The capital city of Iqaluit was only a small town really, with a few thousand people, and the airport was a beautiful bright red color.

We collected our bags and I rubbed my eyes sleepily.

“I feel like death has warmed me over and regurgitated me into a deep freezer.”

I piled my loose waves into a messy bun on top of my head.

“Let’s go eat,” Luke said. “I want you to keep up your strength.”

OK, he had always been kind of protective of me, but that was going a little far.

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