Page 38 of Legacy
A shirtless Luke flings one side of his front door open and descends the stairs, bulky muscles flexing and contracting with each millimeter of movement. Because honestly, how else would a hero come to a damsel’s rescue? A movie worthy welcome. Is his chest actually sparkling?Oh, it’s water.That makes sense, he does have on a bathing suit. The pool.
“Little Dempsey,” he says when he’s in earshot. “You made it.”
The swirling nervous nausea is replaced by the knowledge that I never felt like this while looking at Henry. It’s different and I can quantify it now. The difference between real and casual. I’m staring at Luke like some kind of weird jerk, and he’s asking me to tell him about the reporters and Henry. He wants names of media outlets. His lips are moving, but I’m in that space between crying with relief and turning to run away from the ticking time bomb standing before me.
His blue eyes meet mine. “Aara.”
“Why do you have to be so perfect?” My words come out just as he takes my bags from me. Perfect timing. “Why?”
He staggers back, narrowing his eyes. “I’m far from perfect.”
At least he takes the subject change with ease. “Do you even see yourself? Like really see yourself, Hart? I know I’m partial to you for obvious reasons, but look at you. You’re legitimately glittering in the sun. Like you stepped off a photoshoot for Playgirl.”
Hart wrinkles his nose as he turns toward the bright white marble. He looks over his shoulder. “Playgirl. Is that even a thing anymore?”
“You’re missing the point,” I reply.
“I could say the same about you.” Luke sets down my suitcase and bag at the entrance to his house. When I walk in, he shuts the door and locks it. The sound ricochets and sends a shock to my core. “You glitter in the sun. Especially almost naked. You bring a bathing suit?” He hikes his thumb to the back of the house where the pool is.
Nodding, I grab the smaller bag as he rolls my suitcase to the stairway that leads to the room where I changed before. It looks like it’s been rearranged completely since I was last in here. The bed has a different duvet, and there are canopy drapes in a gauzy lace wrapping around the sides of the bed.
“I let my sister pick out stuff.”
“Oh, is this where she stays?” Guilt strikes as I realize I’m taking his sister’s space.
Luke clasps his hands in front of his body. “No. Her room is down the hall a bit. You aren’t taking anyone’s space, Dempsey. That’s what you’re thinking right now? Trying to come up with reasons why you shouldn’t be here?” He pauses, watching me walk around the bed to gaze out the window overlooking the beach. “Don’t do that. There is literally no reason why you can’t stay here.” I hear him shift, his shorts making a swishing noise. “There’s a pen and paper on the dresser. Write down the things you like to eat and I’ll give it to my housekeeper, Margarita.”
“I can do my own shopping,” I say, scowling.
He lifts and lowers one shoulder, eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Fine. Just trying to make your life a little easier. Whatever you want.”
I sound ungrateful. I eye the pad of paper. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Yes. Please. That would be easier for me. It’s been a weird day.” Henry’s smile. My past boiling to the present. “I can’t believe he showed up at my house. He actually thought I was going to forgive him. He asked me to be a team.” I shake my head. “Can you believe it?”
He folds his arms across his chest as I wander closer to grab my suitcase. “It’s a pretty awesome thing to have you on my team, so yeah, I believe it. He’s realizing his mistake.”
“No. No, he’s not.” I unzip my suitcase like a madwoman and start shifting clothes around. “He wants to use me for the fleeting attention shining down on me right now. Like he used Aurora to get the world tour. I’m putting the pieces of his lying ways together and that man is one hundred percent that bitch.”
Luke chuckles. “What bitch?”
I shake my head. “One I never should have had anything to do with. I wish my mom would tank his tour. Give him awful press. Make him fail. Send him back to his motherland with his tail tucked between his legs.”
“Liar. That’s not you.”
I’m surprised by his ballsy assessment. “How would you know? We barely know each other.” I find the workout shorts and pull them on under my dress. “I’m ready for the pool.”
He tsks. “The bathing suit you wore last time is in the drawer. You know, if you liked it.” His smile is wide and knowing. “Because I liked it.” The lines between us are blurry. That was a step over it, though. And I don’t balk. Not even a little bit.
I groan, shaking my head. That thing was made of a few strings and nothing else. “Let’s go swimming, Hart. You’re pushing your luck. I might actually be as vindictive as you don’t believe I am. Gaining satisfaction from a tanked tour and low sales might make me happy.”
I walk past him and out the door. He smells like chlorine and sex. Not actual sex, like this masculine combination of manly body wash and a scent belonging to only Luke Hart. I glance over my shoulder to see him follow me.
“Fine, fine. I know that you’d never wish ill will on anyone, even the asshole who did you dirty because you’re character-driven.” He pauses, but I hear his footsteps falling softly behind me. “And you don’t let anyone else dictate how you feel. You don’t give permission for that. When you make a decision, it’s because you want to. You’d never let something or someone affect you in a negative way.” The warm, salt kissed air is circulating in the living room as I step down nearer to the patio outside. I shiver. From his words. From the air temperature change.
Luke’s presence is big and saturating—I feel him behind me. His heat permeating my skin, organs, soul. All of it. My knees feel weak because I’ve never felt so seen in my entire life. I swallow hard. “You’re right.”
His voice is a low rumble against my neck. “I know when you give yourself to me it’s because you want to. Not because anything influenced you. Your decisions are cautious. Well thought out. You do what you believe is right.”
My voice is scratchy. “What do I believe?”
