been a busy week and I have to get back to work. My lawyer will call your lawyer after we’ve looked at the papers.”
He was still blustering when she hung up.
Her hands were shaking and her stomach felt like a deflated balloon. Screw the diet. She dumped the raw veggies and rice cakes into the trash, snagged her purse off the counter and headed for the door. She debated whether to leave her phone at home and quickly ruled it out. The only thing worse than getting another call from the cockroach was missing a call from a client.
* * *
ON THE WAY BACK TO HER building, Claire navigated around a cluster of pylons on the sidewalk. A window-washing platform was suspended a few feet above the ground and a crew of workers was loading equipment onto a truck.
“Claire? Claire DeAngelo? Is that you?”
She whirled around, clutching a paper bag filled with guilty pleasure. Who on earth...?
She looked up at the man on the platform and stopped breathing. She’d recognize that devilish grin anywhere. “Luke!”
He vaulted over the safety railing, landed lightly on his feet in front of her and swept her into an enthusiastic embrace. “I knew it had to be you. What are you doing here?”
“Just taking a break.” She waved at the main doors of her condominium complex. “I’m on my way home, and back to work. I mean, I work at home sometimes.”
He planted a kiss on her forehead. “How long has it been?”
“I’m not sure. Since college, I guess.”
“Wow. Fancy digs,” he said. “Good for you. And you look great.”
So did he. Back in college he’d had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen and a smile that had melted a lot of girls’ hearts. She could see that hadn’t changed. The rest of him had. He’d always been athletic but Adonis himself would envy this body. He still had his arms around her and the biceps alone were enough to make a woman feel light-headed. His black T-shirt was streaked with water and dust, and he smelled like hard work and testosterone. When he finally released her, she felt slightly chilled.
“Are you married? Kids?”
She shook her head, still somewhat confounded by this unexpected encounter. “Separated. Almost divorced, actually. No kids. What about you?”
She asked because she felt she had to, but she knew his answer would be negative. Luke Devlin still didn’t look like the kind of man who’d ever be caged behind a white picket fence.
“Nope. Single and free as the breeze.”
That was Luke, all right. The college friend she’d known and loved, and he could still make her laugh. They had met in first-year American History when they’d been paired up to work on a Civil War assignment. Claire had gone on to major in English literature and Luke had settled for being a major babe magnet. She had occasionally played the role of platonic place-holder, hanging out with him after one of his many breakups, letting the old girlfriend think she was the new one. She had always been surprised they fell for it because, let’s face it, serious, studious and slightly overweight Claire DeAngelo was not Luke’s type.
A number of years ago she’d run into one of his old college roommates and he’d told her that Luke had joined the Seattle Police Department. Finding out he’d become a cop had been a shocker but finding him here, working as a window washer, of all things, was a complete bombshell.
“Free as the breeze, huh? Sounds just like the old days,” she said.
“Not quite. I had a pretty serious girlfriend for a while, but it didn’t work out.” His smile faded by a few watts.
What was this? Luke Devlin with a broken heart? Not possible. “Welcome to the club.”
“Seriously? Any guy who’d dump you would have to be crazy.”
“That’s one adjective that works.”
Luke grinned at her. “Misery loves company, isn’t that what they say? We should grab a bite to eat when I get off duty. Off work. We can catch up on however many years it’s been.”
After the insanely busy week she’d had, and especially after that last phone call from her ex, why not? She hadn’t been on a date since Donald left, which meant she technically hadn’t been on a date since before she got married. Not that a casual, off-the-cuff invitation to “grab a bite” constituted a date, but it would be more fun than sitting down to a salad, alone.
“Dinner would great,” she said. “What time?”
“I’m off at five. How does six o’clock sound?”
“Six will work. I’ll meet you downstairs at my front door.”
He kissed her again, on the cheek this time. As she walked away, she half expected him to swat her rear end the way he used to, but it seemed that even a guy like Luke grew up, at least a little. She looked back when she reached the entrance, but he’d already climbed onto the window-washing platform. That’s when she noticed the red lettering on his black T-shirt. Lucky Devil, with three prongs on the tail end of the letter y. She was still laughing when she let herself into the lobby and pushed the elevator button. Back in college she would have given almost anything to go on a date with Luke Devlin, even though he’d had a campus-wide reputation for getting lucky. Now she knew better than to give herself to a bad-boy-cop-turned-window-washer, but for the first Friday night in forever, she had dinner plans.
* * *
LUKE TOSSED THE LAST couple of pylons into the back of the truck. I’ll be damned, he thought. After all these years, he kinda sorta had a date with Claire DeAngelo, and he had just enough time to run this load over to the shop and get back here to meet her. Before he climbed into the cab, he reached up and yanked on the ropes to make sure the platform was secure on the roof rack. Better change your shirt while you’re at it.
He was back at Claire’s condominium complex at five minutes to six. He’d made it home in time to take his dog, Rex, out for a run and grab a shower and a change of clothes, and still made it here with enough time to spare to make it look as if he had all the time in the world. He wasn’t sure why that was important, but he didn’t want to make Claire wait. For one thing, knowing her, she wouldn’t.
He leaned against a light standard, arms folded, and while he waited, he kept a watchful eye on everyone who came and went from Claire’s building. After his years with the Seattle Police Department, maintaining a keen awareness of his surroundings was deeply ingrained. Claire wouldn’t know he was a cop and given his lousy study habits in college, she was probably not surprised to see him washing windows. Just as well. It meant he wouldn’t have to tell her he had her building under surveillance, or why.
She took his breath away the instant she stepped through the door. The reticent, sometimes even awkward study-buddy he’d hung out with in college had outgrown her awkwardness and blossomed into a beautiful, confident woman. She had the same soft blue eyes, still wore glasses instead of contacts, still dressed conservatively but with a lot more style.
She smiled when she saw him and raised one hand as if to wave.
“Claire!” The man who
