“No, I’m not happy about it. I don’t know how they had the grounds for a warrant, but it should prove to them I couldn’t have set the fire. I was all over Broughton… Any word on… Well, that’s something, I guess. Thanks for the update. Take care, man.”
Dahlia’s brow furrowed. Warrant? Fire? Was he talking about the man Victor told her about?
Luke tucked his phone into the pocket of his shorts and picked up the spatula, humming a tune off-key while he flipped the burgers for their meal.
“I brought you a refill,” she said, handing him a bottle of beer.
Luke startled but gave her one of his devastating smiles. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”
“No problem,” he said, but his smile slipped a little. Luke hesitated and then seemed to come to a decision. “That was my friend Brady.”
“The ex-cop?”
Luke nodded. “He struck a deal with one of Hank’s friends. They are hoping to smoke him out.”
“That’s great news! I’d really like to get back to do some interviews in person.”
Dahlia picked at the label on her beer bottle. “I have two video meetings lined up for tomorrow morning. I thought I could pick a bare wall. No one needs to know where it’s taking place. I don’t want to put you in danger. I’m aware that I’m not the only one affected by this.”
“I’m not worried about me.” The look in his eyes sent her stomach swirling.
“Thank you.”
Luke took a swig of his beer. “You don’t have to thank me. Can you grab a plate?”
After lunch, Dahlia answered emails from several media contacts she had been forced to cancel on. She also sent out requests for virtual appointments to the lawyers on Luke’s list. If any of them thought it was unusual that she was reaching out directly instead of her agent or publicist, they didn’t mention it in their replies. She scheduled several calls for the following afternoon.
Dahlia smiled as she grabbed her notebook, intending to write on the deck. She felt confident. Accomplished.
Luke sat in one of the rocking chairs, reading a book. Dahlia only hesitated a moment before taking the chair next to him. Tucking her knees up to use as a writing desk, Dahlia let herself get lost in the two-act play she was writing for the camp she hoped to run.
Dahlia considered it was a little strange to feel so effortlessly natural sitting with Luke. She’d lived alone since Scott left and never had friends she could just hang out with. But this was… easy.
After dinner, Dahlia slipped a lightweight, long-sleeved shirt over her tank top and gathered the s’mores supplies. Luke had already started the fire, and she noticed he’d put a few beers in a bowl of ice.
It wasn’t a date, but the butterflies in her stomach weren’t listening. Luke sat in one of the Adirondack chairs and used a steak knife to strip the bark off two sticks.
“I thought camping wasn’t your thing?” Dahlia nodded at the sticks.
“YouTube.”
Dahlia grinned and picked a marshmallow out of the bag in her hand. Luke handed her a stick, and she slid the marshmallow over it, holding it near the fire.
“I’ve never actually done this,” Luke admitted from his chair.
“Really? My dad used to do it for us in the summer.” Dahlia smiled at the memory. “What kind of stuff did you do with your dad?”
From what Luke had said about his father, she suspected it was a complicated relationship, but surely there must be good memories. Dahlia had googled his family, but she was interested in what the Blooms looked like behind the headlines.
Luke stared into the flames, quiet for a minute. “David Bloom wasn’t what you’d call a hands-on parent. He cared about us in his own way. Primarily in how we reflected on him.”
Dahlia glanced at the darkening marshmallow and pulled it from the flame. She handed Luke two graham crackers and a square of chocolate.
She pulled the steaming blob of sugar from the stick, hissing when the dessert stuck to her finger. Dahlia popped the wounded digit in her mouth and sucked to ease the sting. “Stupid marshmallow,” she said around her finger and looked up to give Luke a rueful smile. But his expression had shifted.
The flames cast shadows across his face, but his eyes burned where he focused hungrily on her mouth. Dahlia watched his throat work through a swallow, and the air between them seemed to thicken.