Page 59 of The Wedding Run
“Money.” He laughs as he folds the dishtowel. “I’d love to travel across Europe, seeing cathedrals and ruins, walking through history.” He moves into the den and pours more wine into my glass. “Would you like coffee instead?”
“That might keep me up all night.” If thoughts of Luke don’t. “Where else?”
He sits in the reading chair. “All the usual touristy places. Paris, London, Rome, Barcelona. But also the villages and towns no one’s ever heard of and I can’t pronounce, the little mom and pop cafes.”
“Sounds lovely.” I lean into the loveseat’s cushions.
“Where would you go?”
I don’t even have to think about it. I point to the magazine cover. “Ireland.”
“That was very decisive,” he says.
“It’s always been on my list. And yes, before you ask, I do have a list.”
He chuckles as if he knew without asking. “Where else?”
“Same as you. Paris, Rome. All the famous places I’ve only read about. I want to see artwork, Renaissance paintings, and the Impressionists. I love Renoir. I want to see where the great writers lived. Dickens. Burns. Jane Austen. And all the sights like this.” I look at the cover ofTravel. “Sights that take my breath away.”
Right then, I envision Luke and I walking hand in hand, sampling gelato, drinking wine, taking pictures in front of the Eiffel Tower or on the Amalfi Coast, dipping our toes in the Mediterranean. Then, Luke pulling me against him for a long, slow kiss?—
Whoa!Stop with the kissing.
I break eye contact with him, sip more wine, which I do not need, and try to breathe.
“I’ll be right back.” He steps out of the room, angling down a hallway.
It takes a minute for my heartbeat to slow.What are you doing, Libby? Are you going to seduce him? Shut up, I tell myself, and fluff my hair.
This is much too fast. It’s too early. But I’m tempted. Really tempted. Luke is kind and generous and hot. Let’s be real.
He returns carrying a laptop, which seems odd. But whatever. Maybe he’s going to show me vacation photos. He tilts the laptop screen toward me. “I came across some old photos. Thought I’d show you some from our college days.”
Our? My spine stiffens. “You mean you and Derek?”
“You asked about our college days. Remember?” He clicks open a picture of Derek posing with kids. Vaguely in the background, I spot a fuzzy Luke carrying a pile of packages.
“Our fraternity collected presents for an orphanage each Christmas,” he explains.
He’s hyping Derek. Anger covers my disappointment. I cross my arms over my chest. “What are you doing, Luke?”
“Huh?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I thought you’d be interested… If you’re not…”
I remain silent. Fuming actually. Then I remind myself of my plan. “Fine. Show me about Derek.”
He clicks onto another picture. Instantly, I recognize Derek dressed as Billy Gibbons from ZZ Top with a fake beard and furry guitar. In the background, Luke plays an electric guitar. But it looks real.
“This was lip-synch night. Can you guess who Derek is?”
I shift the conversational spotlight onto Luke and playfully touch his arm. “I didn’t know you played guitar.”
“It’s been a while.”
“Derek’s faking it,” I add. “But you… I’ve always loved boys in the band.”
