coming from the porch. For a moment she allowed her mind to visualize Luke swinging the sledgehammer. She could vividly imagine the play of the firm muscles in his arms and across his back. Her fingers tingled as she remembered the warmth of his skin beneath her touch.
From the moment she’d told him she was a widow, she’d sensed a subtle change in him. He seemed less standoffish, smiling at her with a gleam in his eyes that made her breath catch in her chest.
She shook her head, as if to dislodge the thoughts. The last thing she could do was invite a man into any area of her life. She was living a lie, and to allow anyone in meant the possibility of danger and heartbreak.
It was nearly an hour later that she heard the sound of the back door opening and closing and knew Luke had entered the kitchen. She left her bedroom and hurried into the kitchen just in time to see him gulping a glass of water.
“Whew, it’s definitely warm out there,” he said.
Abby nodded, trying to keep her focus on his face. At some point he had taken off his shirt, and his broad, tanned chest shimmered with a light sheen of perspiration. The dark, springy hair that sprinkled his chest formed a valentine pattern, the faint tail disappearing into the waistband of his low-slung tight jeans.
She suddenly realized he was looking at her expectantly as if waiting for her to say something, and a flush of heat warmed her cheeks. She leaned against the table, hoping he hadn’t noticed her intense perusal of his firmly muscled, gorgeous chest. “I meant to ask you, I’m going to take the kids out to dinner tonight, but we haven’t been in town to really see what’s there. Any suggestions on a good place to eat?”
He set the glass on the counter and swiped a hand through his beautiful thick hair. “My personal choice is the diner on Main Street. It’s nothing fancy, but the food is good, and it’s where most everyone in town eats.”
“With two kids, I’m not in the market for fancy. Do they have chocolate shakes?”
He grinned at her, that wide, sexy grin that did amazing things to his sinfully gorgeous eyes. “Do I feel the kinship of another chocolate shake addict?”
“Not me,” she protested with a laugh. “Jason is a chocoholic. I prefer anything with strawberries.”
“Hmm, the best way to eat strawberries is lying down on a blanket beneath a big old shade tree.” His gaze seemed to hold the glint of blatant flirtation.
“And they taste best of all when somebody else is feeding them to you, rather than you eating them by yourself.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” she said, her insides trembling at the picture he’d painted with his words.
“I’ve never had anyone feed me anything.”
“That’s an oversight that will have to be addressed,” he replied. He studied her for a long moment. “You mentioned earlier that you’re a widow. How long has it been?”
There was a gentleness in his voice that made her regret the lies she was about to tell. “A little over a year. He died in a car accident.”
“I’m sorry. It must have been tough for you and the kids.”
She nodded and averted her gaze from his. She didn’t want to see the sympathy there, sympathy for a dead husband who had never existed. “We’ve managed okay on our own.”
“Yeah, well, if you ever need a man around here, you know, to do any heavy lifting or whatever, don’t hesitate to call me.”
She looked at him again, and something in his metal-flecked eyes made her feel as if he were offering her more than strong arms to lift heavy items. Her cheeks burned with a blush as she wondered if perhaps she was reading more into his offer than he’d intended.
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“If you really want to eat at the diner, I recommend you go around five. By six the place is packed on most evenings, but Friday night is always the worst.”
She nodded, then turned and headed out the kitchen door. She drew a deep breath as she entered her room, wondering why a man she hadn’t exchanged more than a hundred words with affected her so. Maybe it was because the sight of him evoked thoughts and images that had little to do with conversation.
“Jason,” she said as she entered his room. “Time for a bath, buddy.”
“A bath? But it’s not bedtime,” he protested.
“If I’m taking my best boy into town for dinner, then I want him scrubbed sparkly clean.” His face screwed up for another round of protest. “And I hear the place we’re going to eat has the most super-duper chocolate shakes in the world.” The promise of his favorite drink did the trick, and he headed for the bathroom.
Within minutes Abby had Jason in the tub with Jessica waiting to bathe next. Abby had just pulled Jason from the tub and was fixing fresh water for Jessica when Luke appeared in the doorway.
“Sorry to bother you,” he said, “but I’m going to nail the front door shut, then knock off for the day.”
She quickly turned off the faucets, gestured Jessica to get in the tub, then stepped into the hallway and pulled the bathroom door closed behind her to afford the little girl her privacy.
The first thing she realized was that the hall seemed far too small. He stood close enough to her that she could smell the masculine scent of him, a mixture of fresh cologne and a whisper of hot male. The heat from his body radiated outward. “You’ll be back tomorrow?” she asked.
“Yeah, but before I leave, I wanted to talk to you for a minute about my hours here.”
She wanted to move him out of the hallway, step back enough from him that she didn’t feel so vulnerable, so overwhelmed by his presence.
“If it’s all right with you, I’ll work here each day until about three. Then I need to knock off. I work on the family ranch in the afternoons, then in the evenings I work at the Honky Tonk, a little bar on the edge of town.”
“Three jobs? You must be an overachiever.”
He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed in the pit of his stomach. “Not hardly. In fact, most people would tell you the opposite is true, that I’m just kind of drifting through life, dabbling here and there.”
“And what would be closer to the truth?” she asked curiously.
“I’m not sure. I’m still trying to figure it out,” he admitted with a wry grin. He started down the hallway toward the kitchen, and she followed.
“I’ll be back around seven in the morning,” he said as he reached the door.
“That would be fine,” she agreed.
“Then I’ll see you first thing in the morning.” With another of his beautiful smiles, he turned and left the house.
To Abby, his parting words felt like a nice promise, and that worried her. She closed the door after him and for a moment leaned against it.
What was wrong with her?
