Daddy, Unexpectedly Page 8

“You used to jog in college, didn’t you? You should run with us sometime.”

  “Oh, well, I don’t know. I usually work out in the gym downstairs. I probably couldn’t keep up with you anyway.”

  “Rex is very accommodating.”

  “I could give it a try. Sam, one of my business partners, has been after me to train with her for the marathon.”

  “Really? I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. She runs the whole thing. I’ve only ever done the half marathon, and my time is never great. I only do it to stay in shape and try to lose weight.”

  “How long is a half marathon?” he asked.

  “About thirteen miles.”

  “More than I’ve ever done.” And he looked impressed as he said it. “I only run so I can keep up with the bad guys. And wear off some of Rex’s excess energy.”

  Nice of Luke to try to boost her confidence, but she’d seen the legs beneath those jeans. He could outrun her without even breaking a sweat, and the bad guys wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “If you and Rex don’t mind taking it slow, I’d love to run with you sometime.”

  “It’s a date. How’s your steak?”

  “Perfect.” It really was. She hadn’t paid a lot of attention to what he’d used in the marinade, but it was delicious. “I hardly ever cook anymore. Cooking for one isn’t much fun.” Besides, she was usually on a diet. “So I eat a lot of salads, deli takeout, that sort of thing. What about you?”

  “I never go to a restaurant or bar alone, it’d be too tempting to order a beer. I mostly eat in, but nothing fancy.”

  “And you call this not fancy?” she asked. She was only partly teasing.

  He shrugged. “I’ve never done this before.”

  “This being...?”

  “Gone to a woman’s apartment and cooked dinner for her.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Dead serious.”

  Wow. She didn’t know how to respond to that. In a way that made her a first for him. She liked that, because she would have guessed that Luke Devlin had run out of firsts a long time ago.

  “I’m flattered. And impressed.” And totally turned on by the idea.

  His smile suggested he’d figured that out already. “How was your day?” he asked.

  “Good. Busy, but good. My new clients are already thinking about putting an offer on one of the properties I showed them. They’re going to sleep on it and call me tomorrow.”

  “And your open house?”

  She suspected he was only interested in knowing if she’d found someone to be there with her. “That went well, too. I took your advice and asked one of my business partners to go with me.”

  “Glad to hear it. Has Donald called again?”

  “Not since this morning.”

  Luke went quiet for a moment, as though carefully considering his next words, and it made her uneasy.

  “No sign of him hanging around the open house this afternoon?” he asked.

  “No.” What did he mean by hanging around? “What makes you think he would do something like that?”

  “I hate to tell you this, but he was parked out front when I got here a while ago.”

  Claire’s chest went tight. She set her fork down, knowing she wouldn’t be able to swallow anything anyway. “Donald was here? Where, exactly?”

  “He was parked across the street.”

  “He was in his car? Are you sure it was him?”

  “I’m sure.” His gaze connected with hers and didn’t waver. “I’m going to tell you something, and I’m not going to apologize for it.”

  “Did you pull your gun on him again?” she asked, not able to hold back a nervous laugh.

  Luke laughed for real. “No, that’d be pushing my luck. I looked up his vehicle registration so I would recognize his car if I saw it.”

  “You can do that?”

  A slight nod indicated he could.

  “And you did it because...?”

  “Because I was concerned he might be stalking you. Turns out, he is.”

  Stalking? Donald was stalking her? “That doesn’t make sense. He’s the one who cheated and moved on.”

  “It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but him. And when I asked why he was here, he didn’t have a good reason. Or any reason.”

  She picked up her napkin and noticed her hands were shaking. “You talked to him?”

  “I did.”

  Luke stood, came around to her side of the table, pulled her to her feet and into his arms. She went willingly, wanting to draw on his strength, letting his warmth seep into her suddenly chilled body.

  “I’m sorry, Claire. I hate having to tell you about this, but you need to know. You can’t keep yourself safe if you don’t.”

  “What did he say?” she whispered. “When you talked to him?”

  “Said he needed to talk to you but you weren’t answering his calls, so he was going to ring the buzzer.”

  Not answering his calls? That made no sense, either. “Other than that one time this morning, he hasn’t called today. The way he’s been lately, that’s kind of unusual but I figured...” Truth was she’d been feeling rather smug about it, assuming now that Donald knew she was seeing someone, he was backing off.

  “I don’t think he had any intention of buzzing. He knew you were here, though. I’m sure of that. He was waiting to see if I showed up.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe there’s some other explanation—” She desperately wanted there to be. The thought of her ex-husband sitting out there in his car, watching the building, knowing when she was out and when she was home...

  Her gaze darted to the railing and beyond. The terrace wasn’t visible from the street. From here they couldn’t even be seen from the complex’s other tower. Silly to worry, to feel exposed out here, but still she shuddered.

  Luke must have felt it, too, because he drew her even closer. He didn’t say anything, though. He just held her. She would never have guessed he could be like this. Gentle, comforting, and in a nonsexual way. She didn’t know why that surprised her, but it did. She wrapped her arms around his waist, nestled closer and pressed her face against his shoulder. This felt so good, so right. There was nothing she could do about Donald right now, but there was something she could do about this.

  “Let’s go inside.”

  “You’ve had enough to eat?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Now I’m ready for the next course.” She tipped her head back and he lowered his at the same time. The kiss they shared was filled with give-and-take, and for maybe the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid to show a man that, yes, she wanted him, but she also needed to feel safe, secure, sheltered from the world, at least for tonight. Tomorrow would take care of itself.

  Chapter Seven

  Dessert always had been Luke’s favorite course. They’d finished dinner several hours ago. Now, just minutes shy of midnight, he lay next to Claire, spent and relaxed, satisfied the same was true for her, and certain there was no sweeter way to end dinner with a beautiful woman. With her back against his chest and his arm limp across her waist, he could feel her breathing slowly grow shallow and even.

  Years ago his knack for charming the ladies had earned him the nickname Lucky. Truth was, he’d been careless and irresponsible, and if he had one regret, it was that he couldn’t turn back the clock and undo all the moronic things he’d done while he was drinking. Getting sober had kick-started his conscience, though. At first he’d tried to justify all of it by using the booze as an excuse, but over time he’d come to realize there was no was excuse. He’d done a lot of shitty things, he needed to own them, and when he could, he had to try to make amends for them.

  Being here with Claire felt right in just about every way possible, starting with the fact that she was one of the few women—hell, maybe the only woman—who had somehow looked past his flaws and been friends with him anyway. He had wanted to make love to her during their days of being study-buddies, but something had held him b
ack. Maybe because he’d always been sober, more or less, for their study sessions and had enough sense to know he didn’t deserve to have her. Claire wasn’t a one-night stand, and other than Sherri, those one-night stands were what he’d done best.

  With the tip of a finger he slowly, lightly drew circles around her navel and thanked his lucky stars he’d never screwed things up with her.

  Something had happened in her past, though. Over dinner he’d made an off-the-cuff comment about her not being much of a partier. He hadn’t anticipated her reaction, but it was one he’d seen before. Sadly, it was one that every cop saw way too often. Victims of domestic violence, sexual assault, rape—no matter who they were or what the circumstance, they had one thing in common. It was that reaction, and it was always nothing.

  Oh, shit.

  What if he...?

  Had he ever...?

  Shit.

  Claire shifted against him. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “You got tense all of a sudden. Did you hear something?”

  “Everything’s fine,” he whispered against her hair. Except it wasn’t, not by a long shot, and he needed to clear the air.

  “Earlier, when I asked you if something had happened, you said it was nothing. I didn’t buy it, and then I got to thinking about all the stupid stuff I used to do. All the partying and drinking. And that got me wondering, when we were in college, did I—?”

  Claire rolled over, and in the dim light cast by a single bedside lamp, he tried to read the reaction in those midnight-blue eyes.

  He kept an arm around her because he was sure that no matter how she answered his next question, the truth would be in her physical response.

  “Was it me? Did I ever come on to you or...” God, this was hard. “Or something worse?”

  For a split second her eyes went wide, then softened along with the rest of her. She touched a hand to the side of his face, kissed him lightly on the lips. “Never.” Then she smiled. “I used to wish you’d ask me out....”

  That was a surprise. He’d had no idea.

  “But you never did,” she said. “You didn’t do anything else, either. What made you ask?”

  “I was a jerk back then. Young, stupid. Drank too much too often, woke up some mornings with no memory of what I’d done the night before. I’d hate to think I ever did anything to hurt you.”

  “Of course you didn’t. We were just friends.”

  He drew her closer and returned the kiss she’d given him. “So what happened to you?”

  “I... What makes you think anything happened?”

  “I’m a cop. I see women’s reactions to certain things. Yours was textbook.” He still wasn’t sure she would tell him, though, until he heard her sigh.

  “It was a long time ago, freshman year to be exact. FYI, I didn’t even know you then. I went to a party in one of the dorms. To say I wasn’t used to drinking would be the understatement of the century, but there was this boy and I wanted him to think I was cool.

  “I woke up the next morning with the hangover from hell. I didn’t know whose room I was in, but I was alone. My underwear was on the floor and I had no idea if he used any kind of protection. When I got back to my dorm, my roommate dragged me off to the campus clinic. And after that—” She gave a nervous laugh. “As you said, I’ve never been much of partier.”

  “Did you remember what happened?”

  She shook her head. “Vaguely.”

  Sounded like maybe she’d been roofied. “Did you press charges?”

  “No. At the time I believed it was as much my fault as his. We were both drunk. Maybe if I hadn’t had so much to drink—”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” He hated that women believed that.

  “I know that now. But then I was young, naive, and I think I was more upset about losing my dignity and self-respect than my virginity.”

  Anger rumbled through him. There’d been plenty of girls in college who were willing to jump into bed with a guy. Hell, he’d made out with plenty of inebriated girls at parties, sometimes went all the way with them, but he had never crossed that line, never forced a girl to give it up against her will.

  Not that you can remember, anyway. What about all those morning-afters when he had no memory of what the hell he’d done the night before? And who was to say that wasn’t a selective memory? Anger was suddenly overcome by guilt.

  “I feel like I should apologize for the entire male species. We can be idiots.” Maybe apologizing to her was a way to make good for his past indiscretions.

  She snuggled closer, laughing softly. “Sorry, that’s one apology I can’t accept.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re not responsible for half the human race. Besides, I’m okay. I learned that I needed to look out for myself, that it was up to me to keep myself safe.”

  Her comment shifted his thoughts to Donald, and he suspected hers went there, too. Tonight he had planned to discuss moving in here, but an opportunity hadn’t presented itself and now wasn’t the right time. He’d wait until tomorrow, over breakfast, maybe. If he had to, he’d create an opportunity.

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying this,” Claire said. “But this is something Donald and I never did together.”

  Luke and Claire had done a lot of things since they’d stumbled into the bedroom tonight. He wasn’t sure which of them she meant. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.” He stroked the hair back from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.

  “Pillow talk.”

  He was already acutely aware that another man had shared this bed with her. Now the periodic pangs of jealousy that’d been elbowing him in the gut were chased away by a smug sense of superiority. No question he’d satisfied her sexually, but emotionally? As far as he knew, that was a first. The old Luke would have been scared witless by that, but this new-and-improved—or so he hoped—version of himself liked the idea. A lot. There might be some depth to his character, after all.

  “Pillow talk, huh? That’s what you call this?”

  Somehow, without him noticing, she’d slipped a hand around him and now it was slowly exploring the contours of his backside.

  “What would you call it?” she asked.

  For the briefest of instances, surely no more than a millisecond, the L-word flashed through his brain. No freaking way was he calling it that. That would be crazy. Make that insane.

  “Pillow talk works for me.”

  “Good.” That hand of hers got a little bolder. “What about this? Does this work?”

  With his arms around her, he flipped onto his back and rolled her on top of him. “I was thinking we should get some sleep.”

  “Really?” She smiled down at him. “You don’t feel sleepy.”

  She definitely knew how to keep a guy awake. “Are you saying you’ve had enough pillow talk for one night?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her, long and deep. There’d be plenty of time for talking. Tomorrow.

  * * *

  CLAIRE WAS CLEARING away their breakfast dishes, although it was close to noon, when “La Cucaracha” blared from her phone. Now what? she wondered as she picked it up. Luke was out on the terrace gathering up last night’s dishes but he must have heard it, too, because he appeared immediately.

  “What do you want, Donald?”

  “I wanted to find out what time you’re meeting with your lawyer tomorrow.”

  That was the best excuse he could come up with? Talk about lame. “I don’t have an appointment yet,” she said, trying to keep her tone pleasant. Given his behavior of late, there was no sense in antagonizing him. “I’ll call her office first thing in the morning and set something up.”

  Luke came up behind her and quietly set a stack of dishes on the counter.

  “Why didn’t you do that on Friday?” Donald asked.

  “I was busy.” Which wasn’
t exactly true. She’d run into Luke and everything else had completely slipped her mind.

  “We need to get the condo listed, Claire. It could take months to find a buyer.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  There was a long pause before Donald spoke. “Really? I know someone—”

  “I already have an agent in mind. If I’m going to do this, I want someone I can—” She almost said trust, but that would really get Donald riled. “I want someone I know.”

  This could be tricky. Having a lockbox with a key would make it easier for Donald to get in, and just the thought of it had her feeling queasy. They would have to make the showings by appointment only.

  “Fine,” he said. “At this point I don’t even care. I want to get my money out of that place.”

  A car horn blared in the background, and Claire could have sworn it echoed the same piercing sound that rose up from the street and through the terrace doors. She pointed outside, silently mouthing to Luke that she thought her ex was down there.

  He strode through the apartment, across the terrace to the railing and scanned the street below.

  “Claire? Are you still there?”

  “Yes. Yes, I’m here. Sorry, I got distracted.”

  Luke turned to face her, gave a single nod. His mouth, with those magic lips, usually so expressive, so ready with the quirky smile, was pressed into a grim line.

  “Um, listen, I really should go. Sam and Kristi are coming over for coffee and I need to get ready for them.”

  “So you’re alone right now?”

  How to answer that? If she said she was alone, he might want to come up. If he knew Luke was here...

  Who was she kidding? Donald had been out there when Luke got here yesterday. For all she knew, he’d spent the night out there, waiting to see if he’d left. Would he do that? Sit there all night? Why? Why did he care? And what about Deirdre? Luke was right. Something wasn’t right and for the first time in her life, Claire was truly afraid. Make that terrified.

  “Claire! I asked you if—”

  “I have to go, Donald.” She ended the call without answering his question and as her shaky fingers let her phone clatter to the counter, she sagged into Luke’s arms.