Page 7 of Making the Call
The look on his face trying to explain that he isn’t into romance is downright hysterical. I outright belly laugh. I can’t help it. He’s so concerned he might’ve offended me. I end up doubling over, gasping for air. There may or may not be some snorting involved, but I won’t admit to anything. Just as I’m going into convulsions, he joins me.God, his laugh is beautiful. It brightens his entire features and makes him even sexier, if that’s possible.
After a few moments, when we’ve both calmed down, I ask, “So, romance isn’t your thing?”
He shakes his head and tries to keep his composure. “Nope. Can’t say that it is. I’m not opposed to it, but I can’t say I’ve read much.”
“Well, you can’t be perfect. At least I can say you now have at least one flaw I’m aware of,” I tease then realize what I just said aloud.Shit. What’s wrong with me?
“Dani, I’m far from perfect.” He shakes his head as he rolls his eyes. “Trust me.”
“Good to know,” I respond automatically.I really need to shut up.
We spend the next few minutes talking about some of our favorite authors. He likes Tom Clancy, Dan Brown, and a few others I enjoy reading as well. We talk about our favorite books as kids, too. His were the Hardy Boys and the Box Car Children, while mine were Sweet Valley High and Nancy Drew. Thank God, we both love Harry Potter, or I might not be able to talk with him about books much longer. By the time we’re done, we’ve shared quite a few laughs and gone down many memory lanes.
Eventually, we talk about life on the island and how much we enjoy it. At some point, Luke and I both get up and clear our plates into his kitchen. Thankfully, the ibuprofen’s kicked in, and I’m beginning to feel better. The inside of Luke’s home is stunning. It has an open floor plan, with hardwood floors throughout and granite countertops in the kitchen. There’s a breakfast nook in a bay window that overlooks the Sound, and a countertop with four barstools opening to a large living room. As I look around the living room, I notice there’s a larger than life television mounted on the wall with a large, dark-brown, leather sectional and matching recliner. This is the epitome of a bachelor pad, but with class and comfort mixed into it. The walls have still-life photos of things that can be found here in the Pacific Northwest. These images include Mt. Rainier, the Seattle City Center, an aerial view of a football stadium, and Puget Sound itself.
Minutes seem to fly into over two hours. When I look at my watch, I’m shocked. “Wow! I’d better get going. I have a conference call to make with my editor in less than an hour.”
“No problem. Let me just load your bike onto my bike rack, and we’ll be on our way,” Luke offers.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask, not wanting to put him out any further. “I’m feeling better. I can just walk if you’re busy.”
“Dani,” Luke says in the sternest voice I have heard yet, “if I didn’t want to help, I wouldn’t have offered.” A grin spreads across his face. “Besides, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. It’s not every day you meet an author, you know.”
“Oh, Geez.” I shake my head in disbelief. I know he’s joking, but I’ve never had it put that way. It seems ridiculous. “Authors are a dime a dozen. I’m nothing special.” My attempt at playing modest is awkward at best. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you better, too, Luke.”
We walk out the front door, and he leads me to his garage. In it is a Jeep Wrangler and a sleek charcoal-gray Mercedes. Luke sure does seem to have fancy tastes. His garage is neat and orderly. There are a few mountain bikes hanging from the rafters as well as a couple of kayaks along one side. He must love the outdoors. Now that I think about it, we never did get around to discussing what he does for a living, but I think I’ll wait for another time to ask that question. We seemed to get along well today, and I don’t want to spoil anything.
He attaches a bike rack within minutes to the back of his Jeep and seconds later, my bike is loaded. He assists me into his lifted Jeep, and we are soon on our way to my place. I can’t think of a time when I have enjoyed myself more in the company of a stranger. We make idle small talk as I direct him to my home. When we arrive at my place, he unloads my bike and puts it in my garage, next to my trusty Honda. My garage is nothing like his, as it has some of my grandparents’ things being stored in it, until they can come out and continue going through everything.
“Thank you so much for your help today. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“It was my pleasure, Dani. I’m glad to have met you.” His deep voice sends shivers through my body. He fidgets with the keys in his hands, suddenly for the first time looking awkward and out of place. It’s like he’s nervous or something.
“Maybe we’ll see each other around?” I offer, not really wanting him to leave.What the hell are you doing, Dani? You can’t afford distractions. You came out to the island to keep your deadlines.
“That sounds good. It was really nice to meet you today.”
He starts to turn toward his Jeep but stops and shocks the hell out of me. “So… If I were to read one of your books, what name would I look for? You never told me your last name.”
