Back to Luke (6 page)

“Timmy’s not the only reason I want out. I hate this life now.”

“You’ll get over that.” She moved in close. “And I’m here.”

“I thought you’d come with me.” He had picked up her hand and rubbed the obscenely expensive diamond he’d given her. “We could settle in Riverdale. Raise our kids there. A big city like this is no place to have a family.”

Drawing back, she’d peered down her nose at him. In bed she was hot and needy. Outside of the bedroom, she could turn as cool as a February night. “I was raised here.”

It took him a while before he realized what she was saying, what ultimatum she was giving him. He called her on it, and she refused to leave with him. They’d parted with hard feelings, even though her father had understood Luke’s need to go home.

“Hey, boss. Where are you?”

He looked up to find Ranaletti had joined him at the bar. “Nowhere important.”

“Thinking about Her Highness?”

“Nope.”

Ranaletti took a seat next to him. The guy was about his height, but thinner. “How long is she sticking around?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t bring her to the job.”

“Jess did. I don’t blame him. She looks like that old movie star…what was her name?”

“Elizabeth Taylor.”

Some of his other men had moved in closer. One, Zeke Huff, a bulky son of a bitch who helped out on the electrical stuff with Cal, wasn’t Luke’s favorite person. He’d had run-ins with the guy on many Harmony Housing jobs. Zeke must have overheard Ranaletti’s comment, because he said, “She’s a nice piece, all right. Got Jess pussy-whipped.”

“Watch what you say, Huff. Rumors hurt people.”

“What, you think somebody in here’s gonna go running back to wifey and tell her Jess is thinkin’ with his johnson?”

“I said shut the hell up!”

The man’s dark eyes narrowed. “It ain’t just me who noticed. It’s happening all over the site. Now, if
you’re
thinkin’ about getting in her pants, that’s a different story. I wouldn’t mind some myself when you’re done.”

Luke scraped back the stool and stood. He wanted to rip the guy’s face off for his crude comments about Jayne. The only thing that stopped him was the door opening, and Mick O’Malley stumbling through it. Mick scowled at Luke, made his way down the bar and took a seat. A different kind of emotion filled Luke. Guilt had him pulling his punch and turning to leave.

Outside Harry’s, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to quell the mix of emotions swirling inside of him. Rage over the crude remarks about Jayne. Anger at himself for caring.

And, of course, guilt. Because every time he saw Mick O’Malley, Luke was forced to confront the fact that he was responsible for Timmy’s death.

F
ROM
J
AYNE’S VIEWPOINT
on the side porch, the backyard of Eleanor’s house sparkled. Dusk was setting in and tiny white lights twinkled from the trees, while pretty paper lanterns hung from garden trellises and dotted the slate walkways snaking through the flower beds. Of course, Luke’s gazebo, the generous gift he’d given
Miss Ellie
for her seventy-fifth birthday, was the focus of attention, garnering comments that stroked the man’s ego. Which, Jayne thought, had grown so big it needed a good deal of reinforcement.

Despite her anger at his reaction to her suggestions about the house plans, she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. He was so handsome tonight in a gauzy white shirt rolled up at the sleeves and knife-pressed dark slacks. She recalled how she’d loved his clothes in New York, told him how, sometimes, she couldn’t wait to get him out of them.

To escape the thought, she turned her attention to his date. The striking redhead with skeins of hair falling down her back, exposed by the halter-top sundress, was beautiful and sophisticated. Was
she
taking those clothes off Luke these days? The notion hurt more than it should have, given how long it had been since Jayne had done that.

Behind her, a voice said, “Luke’s got terrific taste in women, doesn’t he?”

Touching her short locks, Jayne said to Jess, “She’s beautiful.”

“You are, too.”

In the past few days, Jayne had bought some jeans and shirts to wear to the work site. She’d also splurged on a couple of dresses. The pale peach Ralph Lauren she wore tonight was silky and strapless. On her feet were high-heeled sandals.

“I thought I’d be a bit daring with this outfit.”

“Not your usual style.”

It wasn’t. Her taste ran to designer suits for work in several colors and styles, and black dresses when she had to go out at night. She wondered why she’d chosen something so different. Her gaze strayed to Luke again. Dear God, had it been for him?

“Isn’t the gazebo great?” Jess commented. “Luke’s the most generous man I know.” He studied the structure. “I think the posts should have been white, though.”

Jayne laughed out loud. “He and I had words over that.”

“You thought so, too?”

“Hmm.”

Sliding his arm around her shoulders, Jess tugged her close. His affection so natural, as it had been years ago. “We always were in synch, kiddo.”

“Jess?”

Naomi had come to the French doors facing the side of the house. Turning, Jayne saw she was dressed in a short white skirt and camisole of steel-blue, which went beautifully with her eyes and Florida tan. Jayne told her so, and the woman’s response was a crisp thank-you.

“Come out here, honey.”

Naomi stepped onto the porch a discreet distance away. Leaving Jayne’s side, Jess went to his wife and circled an arm around her shoulders. She remained stiff and scowling, making Jayne tense. Their proximity wasn’t pleasant for either of them, Jayne suspected. She was just about to excuse herself when someone she didn’t know came up to them.

“Jess, we need more beer in the cooler. Want me to get it?”

“No thanks, Joe. I’ll take care of it. I’m bartender tonight.” He kissed Naomi’s cheek. “Be right back.”

When he left, Naomi started to move away, too. Before she could leave, though, Jayne grasped her arm. She hated these kinds of confrontations but felt compelled to have this one. “Could you wait a minute? I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since I got here two weeks ago.”

Now, Naomi faced her. Her skin was flushed and the expression in her eyes was…fearful. “What do we have to say to each other, Jayne?”

“I’m sorry if my being in town upsets you. And I know you can’t like me working at the Harmony Housing site.”

Naomi’s face drained of color. “You’re working at the site?”

“Y-you didn’t know?”

“No, Jess didn’t tell me.” Her eyes filled. “Why are you here, Jayne? Why are you doing this to my family?”

Her heart began to beat fast. “I…I’m having a difficult time—”

“Are you so selfish to put your welfare above Jess’s?”

That hurt, so she didn’t respond.

Naomi wasn’t done. “You dig yourself into a professional hole and all of a sudden you’ve got to see Jess. You’re needy, Jayne, and seeking comfort. We all know who’ll be the one to give it, just like he did in college.”

“You only think that because of the men in your family.” Feeling cornered, Jayne spoke without censoring her words.

“Oh, my God, you know about that?”

“Yes, and it’s colored your view of me and Jess.”

“You bitch.”

“That’s
enough!
”

Naomi stiffened at the sound of Jess’s voice. When Jayne looked over, she took a sharp breath. She’d never seen Jess so infuriated, not even when they were falsely accused of cutting corners in college.

He said, “I have never done anything to dishonor you, Naomi.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Naomi’s voice rose a notch. “You tell this woman all my private business, and then you
don’t
tell
me
she’s working at the site. Is that honoring me?”

“You can guess why I didn’t say anything. You’re behaving badly.”

Naomi gasped.

Jess nodded to Jayne. “I apologize for my wife.” He turned and went into the house.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Jess Harper.” Naomi started after him. “I haven’t…” The rest trailed off when she disappeared through the French doors.

Defeated, Jayne leaned her head against the porch post. Well, that was it. There was no way she could stay in Riverdale now.

F
ROM INSIDE
his gazebo, Luke watched the scene unfold on Miss Ellie’s side porch and swore.

“Don’t hold back, Luke.”

Hell, he’d forgotten Elise was with him. Of course, he’d been tracking Jayne all night long. “I’m sorry. That was crude. I just can’t believe how much trouble one woman can cause.”

Elise lifted a bare shoulder. “Eleanor doesn’t think so. Her face lights up every time she looks at…what’s her name?”

“Plain Jayne.”

With the confidence of a beautiful woman who wasn’t afraid to recognize others’ attractiveness, Elise laughed. “You need glasses if you think that.”

Okay, so she was a knockout in the damn dress that bared her shoulders and upper chest. It made him drool and he imagined every other red-blooded man at the party was having the same reaction. Someone else approached her. Mick O’Malley. He gave her a big smile and held out his hand. Jayne shook it. Mick leaned in close, but Jayne’s back was to the post and Luke couldn’t see if she wanted to escape the pretty damn obvious invasion of her personal space. As he watched Mick, something came to him.

The guy had resented the hell out of Luke all through their childhood and had never missed a chance to needle him. He wouldn’t choose Luke for his team in any kind of pickup game; he made up excuses why Luke couldn’t talk to Timmy when he called the O’Malley house. And, routinely, he went after girls that Luke showed an interest in. What was Mick thinking now? Maybe nothing. Maybe he was just fawning over a beautiful woman with all that exposed skin.

The longer Luke watched them, the more it became
obvious that Mick was drunk. Again. Just like his father. Timmy had spent much of his time at the Corelli house because he and his brother lived in fear of Paddy O’Malley’s fists. Had they ever invited Mick to be part of that respite?

“Who’s the guy with her?” Elise asked.

“Mick O’Malley. The brother of one of my best friends.” Elise was new in town, having come to Riverdale Glass as an engineer this year, so she didn’t know all his relationships with people in town.

She touched his arm. “The one who died?”

Jayne pushed away from the post and turned so Luke could see her better. Her smile was stiff and forced, probably due to the tiff she’d had with Naomi.

“Luke? I asked about your friend.”

“Yes, Timmy’s the one who died.”

And the man flirting with Jayne blamed him. On more than one occasion, Mick had attacked him.
You bastard. You’re responsible for Timmy’s death.

To which Luke had no retort because, ultimately, he believed he
was
responsible.

“Luke, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I need another beer. Want something?”

“No thanks.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Preoccupied, he made his way across the lawn where he met up with his sister Corky and her oldest son, Louie.

She kissed him on the cheek. Her eyes seemed sad and he could tell she was tired. “Your gazebo is beautiful.”

“Thanks.” He socked Louie’s arm. The boy looked just like Cal, with sandy-brown hair and hazel eyes. “Hey there, kid.”

“Hi, Uncle Luke.” His tone was off.

“Something wrong?”

Louie shrugged. “Dad didn’t come home after work. He was supposed to be here with us.”

Corky’s face reddened. “He was seeing an old friend.”

That sounded strange. Before Luke could ask about it, his high school math teacher approached him. Small towns, he thought as his sister excused herself and Mr. Lawson asked him about building a new deck. When Luke finally arrived at the porch, Mick was at the bottom of the steps at the cooler.

Lifting the lid, he grumbled, “Where the hell is the beer?” Then he saw it was Luke next to him. His expletive was cruder than Luke’s earlier slip had been.

Up close, Luke noted that Mick’s eyes were glazed and he was slurring his words. The guy was drunker than Luke had realized. “Doesn’t look like you need more. If you want a ride home, I’ll take you.”

Mick’s hands fisted at his sides. “Why, so you can plow into a tree and kill off another O’Malley?” Shaking his head, he stumbled away.

Luke felt like pond scum.

But the birthday girl came up to him, forcing him to pretend he was all right. She frowned down at the cooler. “Luke, dear, could you get some…oh, what’s wrong?”

He stared after Mick. “Nothing.”

A gentle hand on his arm. “He’s suffering, even after all these years. As you are.”

Luke sighed. What could any of them say? Instead, he pointed at the cooler. “I’ll get more beer.”

Miss Ellie gave him a comforting squeeze. “I asked Jess to do it. I wonder why he didn’t.”

He was too busy fighting with Naomi.
“I think he and Naomi went for a walk.”

“How nice. They need time alone together.”

Luke excused himself and took the stairs to the porch. Inside, as he opened the fridge, he heard scraping overhead. Someone was in the house, in the room above the kitchen. Closing the refrigerator, he walked into the living area and climbed the spiral oak staircase that not too long ago he’d helped Jess strip and restain. At the end of the corridor, in the room over the kitchen, a door was ajar and someone was rummaging around. He hurried to the entrance.

The desk was at an odd angle, as if she’d attempted to move it, but now Jayne was standing on the chair trying to get something from a high shelf in the closet. She was yanking on it when, suddenly, the chair swiveled.

“Oh,” she said as she began to fall.

Leaping across the distance between them, Luke caught her before she hit the ground. Unfortunately, her foot snagged in the arm of the chair. Then the thing swiveled again, knocking both of them off balance and onto the floor. He managed to take the brunt of the fall and landed on his back with her on top of him. At the physical contact, the first between them in years, he was swamped by associations, by memories, by the pure joy of holding her again.

But her violet eyes were wide with fear and she was trembling. Instead of railing at him for trying to help her, this time she buried her face in the folds of his shirt. The gesture was so tender, so familiar, he found himself cupping her head with one hand and sliding his other arm around her. His fingers brushed the creamy skin
bared by her dress. Her shoulders and her back were soft as silk.

Unfortunately, Luke felt himself go hard.

W
HEN
J
AYNE’S HEART
calmed down, she became aware of Luke. The feel of his muscular chest covered in soft material beneath her cheek. One arm banded around her. Her breasts pressed into him. Then there was his smell—oh, dear Lord—it was so sexy. And just like before, the combination of all that maleness made her go damp. She was helpless to draw away, until she became aware of
his
reaction below the belt. It took her a moment before she realized that their mutual response was
not
a good idea.

“Damn it,” she said.

The rest of his body tensed. “Look, it’s no big deal,” he barked. “It’s not like this hasn’t happened before.”

His dismissal of his reaction to her hurt, but she covered it with bravado. “We are so done with that. Control your hormones.” She scrambled off him and stood. Or tried to stand, before she toppled onto him again.

And again, the part of him that was indeed very male reacted. He was shockingly aroused this time.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” he asked.

“I must have twisted my ankle. It’s too weak to stand on.”

With a curse, he eased her to the floor and rolled to his feet. Then he scooped her up.

“What are you doing?”

He set her on the bed. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m just—” His comment stopped abruptly and his gaze narrowed on her. “You, um, better fix that.”

“Fix what?”

He nodded to her chest. She looked down. The bodice of her dress had slipped, revealing most of her breasts. “Oh.” She yanked the material up into place and held her hand there.

Seeming nervous, Luke averted his gaze. He caught sight of the closet. “What the hell were you doing up there on a goddamned chair that swivels?”

“I tried to move the desk but could hardly budge it, and the chair was the only other thing in the room to stand on. I was trying to get my suitcase down. Jess put it up on one of those high shelves.”