Page 20 of The Wedding Run
“Be with her?” Derek repeats, his tone deepening with a solid dose of irritation.
“Help her out,” Luke revises, “like you asked. Keep her here. For you. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Okay, fine. But don’t get any ideas. All right?”
Luke says nothing for a long time then, “I’ll do what I can.”
I release the curtain as car doors slam, engines start, and tires squeal as they peel away. “Just you try, Luke Maine,” I whisper into the night. “Just you try.”
CHAPTER 9
Luke
What was I thinking? First, agreeing to help Libby. Second, agreeing to help Derek.
No way is this going to end well.
It’s a cool and breezy morning when I pick up Libby from my folks’ house. Considering all she’s been through, she appears all bright and cheery. She’s wearing a Band Perry T-shirt that belonged to Sophie, and I ignore how snug it fits. I shrug into my jean jacket and pull my baseball cap low.
I offer a hand to help her into my truck. She’s unencumbered as she was yesterday and hops up as if showing she doesn’t need my help.
Her eyes light up when I offer her a travel cup of coffee that I made myself. “You’re speaking my language. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, cranking the engine.
From the corner of my eye, I notice her inhaling the coffee’s aroma as if trying to dissect the hints of pecan and nutmeg infused in the coffee beans.
“I didn’t know how you like your coffee,” I say, “so I brought you our most popular order.”
“Anything is fine. I usually make instant.”
My foot hits the brakes, and I glance over at her. “You’re kidding.”
“Why would I joke about that? Instant is fast. And I’m always in a hurry.” She takes a sip, gazing at me over the rim, batting her eyes, which causes me to do a double take. Maybe I imagined that.
I concentrate on the road. Traffic, which is never heavy in Storybrook, is relatively light. But I give it my complete focus.
“The Brew,” she reads on the travel cup, turning it to examine all sides. “Cute name. Is it fromThe Tempest?”
“Good guess,” I say. “But it references a line from Silas LaRoux’s novel,A Sky Full of Hunger.” I quote from the novel, “Some hearts don’t break—they brew. Slow and strong. Bittersweet.”
“Interesting. And this—” she raises the to-go cup in a salute— “is nice.”
I keep my eyes trained on the road. “Something wrong with it?”
“No, it’s… good.”
I notice a slight hesitation and glance at her. “You said nice. Nice usually means…”
But I lose my train of thought as she kisses the edge of the cup and drinks deeply. She’s a major distraction. Giving myself a shake, I drag my gaze to the road and the non-existent traffic.
From my peripheral vision, I see her smile at me. It feels like she’s toying with me somehow. My hands tighten on the steering wheel. It steadies me. But I feel off, like I’m drifting out of my lane.
She’s Derek’s ex. Therefore, she’s off-limits.
“Did I say something wrong?” she asks, which sounds more like ‘what are you doing later?’
“No, it’s uh… fine.”
