Luke's Absolution (The Colloway Brothers Book 3) (14 page)

Her misty eyes, which look greener today, bounce back and forth between mine, seeking something. She must find it. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until I see the corner of her mouth turn and her mossy pools glimmer with…sheer happiness.

“Are you always so direct?”

“I see no reason to dance.” I scoop up her hair and push it over her shoulders so it’s cascading down her back like a waterfall. What I wouldn’t give to grab a handful, directing her every move as she sucks my aching cock.

Her smile spreads. I have a feeling she knows exactly where my mind has gone. “So you don’t like to dance then?”

She’s not talking about the waltz here, which, for the record I used to know how to do once upon a time. My mom made all us boys take dance lessons when we were younger. She wanted “well-rounded” young men. You can imagine how that went over with a bunch of eleven- and twelve-year-olds. Our dance teacher pretty much banned us from returning after the first season—something about scaring the girls, blah, blah, blah.

Ah…good times.

“Not when my entire future is on the line, no.”

“Luke…” she mumbles softly. She shakes her head and I can tell she doesn’t know what to make of me right now. Hell, I don’t know what to make of me either.

The semi I constantly sport these days starts to stiffen with the husky way she said my name and the doe eyes she’s giving me right now. If I wanted to press the issue, no doubt I could have her underneath me in fifteen seconds flat. So instead, I take a step back.

“Is the air clear now?” I ask roughly.

She nods.

“Good. Now, how about that dinner?”

“Okay.” She adds her qualifier quickly, making me chuckle. “But only because I’m hungry. Not because you’re making me.”

“Of course not. I’m pretty sure the only place I could make you do anything is in the bedroom. Only you’ll try to fight me there, too, because you don’t know how much pleasure I can bring you when you let me be in charge. Don’t worry, though…I can already see you’re a fast learner, fireball. You’ll catch on pretty quick.” I wink and her cheeks flush.

Did I tell you how much I really love the color pink?

I reheat the pasta for a few seconds and set it down in front of her, observing as she enthusiastically digs in. I’ve never enjoyed watching someone eat before, so what does that say about me? I’m a fucking goner for this woman, that’s what.

“This is fantastic, Luke. Homemade?”

I nod. “Thanks.”

The shy smile she gifts me tugs profoundly on my heart strings. I’ve known my feelings for Addy have been escalating at the speed of sound and I daresay before today I thought I was in love with her. Right now, the feelings of contentment and rightness and peace that race swiftly through my blood leave not one shred of doubt: I am unequivocally in love with Addy Monroe.

My color.

My fire.

My pin.

My future.

When I’m with her, things just make sense and I don’t feel quite so soiled. Is it possible Addy could actually cleanse my soul? It feels a little less black each time I’m with her, so maybe. I just have to be sure that blackness doesn’t rub off on her. If it does, although it would hurt like a mother, I’d let her go.

“You have plans tomorrow night?” I ask, knowing it’s time to up my game to the next level. She’s ready.

“No,” she responds around a mouthful of creamy goodness.

“Good. Don’t make any.”

She hesitates. “Okay.”

We stare at each other for a few seconds—not in challenge, unlike most of our interactions lately. This time, it’s something entirely different. It’s finally acknowledgment of what’s been completely out of either of our controls since our eyes first connected months ago.

I think I have some new prayers to add to my list this week. For once, I’m going to be selfish and ask God for something other than absolution, because let’s face it, sometimes that’s the most selfish thing us sinners can ask for when we’ve committed an unforgivable wrong. Which I have.

This week I’ll pray that if there’s a speck of anything deep inside me that even remotely deserves a woman like Addy, it will shine through the darkness so she can see its glimmer.

This week and every week from here on out, I’ll selfishly ask for
her
.

Yep. Complete and total goner.

“
H
mm
, I wonder what could have caused that giddy, goofy schoolgirl look on your face?” Alyse jibes, a shit-eating grin on her own.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Alyse.” I turn my attention back to the double stroller Livia has on her registry. Seven hundred dollars for a buggy with four wheels and two seats? Good grief. The baby market is a damn racket.

“Oh, I think you do,” Kam pipes up with a smile that matches Alyse’s. “How’s that new hunky roommate?”

Wow. That’s a fully loaded question.
How much time do you have?

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t see much of him. Our schedules don’t really mesh.” I intentionally keep my gaze down so my friends can’t see right through the lies I’m trying to feed them. I’m utterly transparent when it comes to lying. Like tissue paper. Or Saran Wrap.

“Mmm hmm.” Alyse doesn’t believe me, but I don’t care. “Say, Asher has a business dinner tonight so I was thinking that maybe we could make a girls’ night out. It’s been a while since I could join.”

Ruh-roh. “Uh…sorry, I can’t. I have plans.”

Wow, have you ever really noticed how tiny newborn socks are? I mean, they’re like two inches long. And how long can they really wear them before they outgrow them? One or two times? So this little two-pack of Ralph Lauren socks for twelve dollars means it will cost like two bucks per wear. That’s insanely stupid. They’re socks.

I realize it’s silent and look up to see Alyse and Kam exchange knowing glances. “Well change them,” Kam insists. “Or do you have a hot date?”

Why yes. Yes, I do.
I think.
He didn’t say so, but this feels very much like a date. A scorching one.

I put on my best Judas face, intent on not giving away the fact I’m going to be spending the evening tonight with my sinfully sexy roommate. “If you mean with a bunch of paperwork so I can get ready for my tax appointment on Monday, then yes, it will be downright steamy.”

Kam studies me for long seconds. So long, I’m starting to squirm and my pits are sweating. I feel like I’m in an interrogation, eyes squinting under the bright lights meant to intimidate. This is stupid. I’m a grown adult, for Christ’s sake. I’m just getting ready to tell her to stick it when she starts laughing. “Taxes, Addy? Really? That’s the best you can come up with?”

Kam and I have been friends since college. She knows me better than almost anyone, besides Livia and my brother.

“Just admit you’re banging your new playmate so we can all sit around and gossip about how big his dick is. I, for one, really want to know if it’s as impressive as it looks behind a pair of tight denims.”

“Jesus, Kam! You’re ogling his package?” I squeal.
Do I sound possessive?
I have no right to feel that way, but damn if the fact that my friend is checking out Luke’s junk doesn’t piss me the hell off.

“Can you blame me? Hell, if you’re not doing him, hand him over. I’d be happy to take him for a ride or two.”

Jealousy fogs over my vision. Kam is stunning, successful, and rich. A catch for any man, although I know exactly what she’s doing. She’s goading me into giving up the goods. Still, it doesn’t stop me from visualizing her and Luke together anyway, even though he’s not shown one ounce of interest in her.

“Piss off, Kam,” I stammer, turning my back on her before I scratch her eyes out. No ogling with bloody retinas.

Judas would be so disappointed in me for losing my cool.

“God, did you see the balls of fire shoot from her eyes?” Kam laughs loudly.

“See it? It singed me,” Alyse replies.

“You’re a terrible liar, Addy. I honestly don’t even know why you try. You’re so doing him,” Kam says.

Before I can come up with another denial, because I only “did him” once, my phone dings. When I dig it out of my purse, superglue couldn’t have stopped the broad smile that splits my lips, followed immediately by a loud bark of laughter. I actually hear a huge chuck of my wall hit the ground.

Apparently, at some point, Luke helped himself to my phone. He’s added his contact info, only not as Luke. His reference last night to no dancing comes racing back.

I’m laughing so hard I can hardly type my response. Kam and Alyse must think I’ve lost it.

What the hell is wrong with me? I’m goading the great white that’s been circling me for weeks with fresh chum. I’m a clueless seal splashing merrily on top of the blue ocean water, completely unaware of what’s lurking in the depths below. Stupid, stupid girl.

Why do I believe that’s true? For some reason, Luke easily sees past all my barriers no matter how hard I try to keep him out. They become translucent. He seems to know what I need even more than I do. Is that what they call a soul mate?

Once again Luke has me speechless…and confused. He’s acting as if we’re a couple when we’re no such thing.
Are we?

I read his messages over and over. He’s so utterly complex and has a wicked sense of humor. He’s kind of mind-blowing all around. When I finally look up, Kam and Alyse are watching me, but the looks on their faces aren’t smug or full of “I-told-you-so’s.” They look…happy.

“In the ten years I’ve known you, I’ve
never
seen you look like this over a man, Ad. You’re glowing as bright as the Golden Gate Bridge at night.”

Kamryn couldn’t be more right. Guess my ruse is up. Not like it was working anyway. “I know,” I confess softly. Leaning back against the closest wall I let my eyes float to the ceiling.

My God, do I know.

T
hree hours
, two cocktails, and a dozen packages later, I walk into my apartment to sounds of Elton John playing loudly through speakers I didn’t even know we had.

I can’t help but laugh.

“Hey, how was shopping?” a disembodied male voice yells from the kitchen.

“Uh, fine,” I call back, dropping my purchases by the door. When I get to the kitchen, I think a grocery store may have exploded on our counters. There are boxes and bags and fresh vegetables and fruit everywhere.

Luke’s hunched over the sink cleaning something green, a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder. He hasn’t given me a clue what we are doing tonight, but it looks like we’re staying in. Does he know I would much prefer that to a fancy restaurant? My heart pangs with the domesticity of the scene in front of me and how much I like it.

I clear the frog in my throat. “What’s with the music?”

“Thought you were a big EJ fan?” His gaze slides to mine and I don’t miss the smirk tugging on his mouth.

I chuckle. “Not really, but if you haven’t heard of “Tiny Dancer,” you’ve been living under a rock.”

“Want something else?”

“Okay.” I grab a piece of celery that looks to have been cleaned and take a bite, leaning against the counter as I watch him.

He wipes his hands and whips out his phone, punching some buttons. A few seconds later Lifehouse’s Jason Wade starts crooning “Falling In.” Luke’s sultry eyes sweep to mine. “Better?” He smiles cheekily, but I don’t miss the undertone of affection on his face or in his voice.

Shit. He’s good.

I gulp. You’ve listened to Lifehouse, right? So no, this is absolutely not better. “Sure,” I croak, trying to ignore the lyrics Jason’s singing about not being scared because it’s love we’re falling in. Stay calm and unaffected, Addy. Cool, calm, and unaffected. “So, ah, whatcha got going here?”

“That would be dinner. I know it’s a foreign concept to you, fireball, what with your protein bars, Cup-a-Soups, and frozen waffles that you think a meal makes.”

It sucks having someone so observant living with you, especially when that someone is who you’re trying your best to guard against. Somehow the secrets you want to keep buried deep seem to bubble to the surface and you can’t stop the fizz that draws their attention.

“I’m a busy gal.”

He turns from his task, pinning me with a deliberate stare. It burns the truth right out of me.

“Fine.” I throw my hands up in defeat. “I can’t cook. Not everyone has a ‘Leave It To Beaver’ mother like yours, Luke.” Mine was more like Courtney Love. I hate the sympathy I see in his eyes as he walks toward me.

Cupping my check, he says, “
I’ll
teach you, then.”

My eyes. They’re stinging.

“Okay?” he asks softly like I’ll blow away if he breathes on me too hard.

“Okay,” I answer just as quietly. Leaning down, he places a chaste kiss on my mouth. I try to keep myself from melting, but fail. Luke is simply unlike any other man I’ve ever met or known.
He keeps telling you that, showing you that
.

Remind me why I’m fighting this again, because I’ve gone and completely forgotten.

“Here, put this on.” He hands me an apron that he’s retrieved from a drawer.
Huh
.
We had an apron?
Who knew. “Gonna put you to work.”

“But I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know how to chop an onion,” I cry in a panic. Sad, but true.

His hand lands on my shoulder. “Take a deep breath, Addy. It’s an onion, not plastic surgery. I’ll teach you, babe.”

“Don’t make fun of me or I’m outa here.” I twist my head to look up at him and tremble a little at the amusement I see dancing in his eyes.

“Can’t guarantee that, fireball, but we’ll have fun.”

“You’re incorrigible, you know that, right?”

“So my mom used to tell me.” He kisses the tip of my nose before clearing the space in front of me, setting down a cutting board and a huge knife that looks very sharp.

“Uh, I’m not so sure you should be handing me such sharp objects. I tend to hurt myself. Don’t we have like a kiddie version of a knife somewhere? I know my brother got me one for Christmas two years ago. He bought it as a gag, but I seriously use it.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Luke, I’m serious here. I cut off the tip of my thumb once with a serrated knife. I still don’t have feeling in the end of it.”

“Then you won’t feel a thing if you cut it again.” He laughs and I slap his chest with the back of my hand pretending I’m really angry, although I don’t stop the smile that pops out. “Fine, then I’ll take you to the emergency room and you’ll get stitches. You’ll live.”

“Maybe I could just wash vegetables or something like that?”

“Now I’m more determined than ever to make you cut that damn onion. You do realize you’ve dug yourself into a hole, right?”

Shit
. Should have played that differently.

“Fine.”

We have two onions that need dicing, so Luke shows me how to do it on the first one. Cut it in half, peel off the first couple of layers, then slice thinly and dice into small pieces. He demonstrates his fine culinary skills slowly with his pungent piece while I try to replicate it with mine. Doesn’t seem so hard, until I look at the finished product. His pieces are all even and small; mine are large and irregular and look like the proud work of a six-year-old who used a butter knife.

I look up at him and he’s trying to hide a smirk; it isn’t long before he bursts out laughing.

“That’s it,” I growl, throwing down the knife and untying my apron. The knife bounces across the counter and falls off the other side.
Whoops
. Probably not the smartest idea I’ve ever had to throw weaponry around so carelessly.

“No, no. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he sputters. He grabs my hands, halting my angry movements. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not. You’re still laughing.”

Lightly chuckling, he pulls me close, careful not to touch my face with his now rank hand. “You’re just so fucking cute, Addy. I’m not laughing
at
you. Really.”

“Well, you’re definitely not laughing
with
me, because that would require me to laugh and, clearly, I’m not.”

“Baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You did good. And no blood or fleshy parts on the cutting board.”

“I didn’t,” I complain. “A blind five-year-old could do better.”

Laughter—
not mine
—echoes off the walls, drowning out Lifehouse. Well…that’s a plus, I suppose. “It all cooks the same, fireball.”

“We have to cook it now?” I shriek, throwing my hands in the air.