Her Red-Carpet Romance (18 page)

She drew herself up. Calm, cool, collected, that was her. Maybe if she thought it enough, the words would be true. “I came by to...see you.”

She'd meant to say
talk to you
, but her eyes lit on Luke's tall, trim frame, and the word stuttered into
see
. He was wearing a bathing suit, the dark blue trunks hanging low on his hips, exposing a defined, tan chest, with a scattering of dark hair running a tempting line down the center of his belly. Her gaze followed that line, then she caught herself and jerked her attention back to his face. Damn. What was wrong with her? She was no longer a silly schoolgirl with an unrequited teenage crush on the older captain of the football team.

He quirked a lopsided grin. Busted. “See me?”

“
Talk
to you.”

The dog took advantage of the open door and scampered onto the porch. Luke waved a hand at the dog. “Charlie, sit.”

The terrier glanced up at Luke, as if to say,
Do I really have to?
When Luke didn't relent, the dog let out a sigh and plopped onto the porch. His tail swished against the wooden floor, hopeful, anxious. It took a second, but then Peyton remembered.

“Is that...” Peyton asked, as she leaned forward, peering at the lopsided brown ears, the big chocolate eyes, “...the same dog?”

A slow smile spread across Luke's face. “You remember that?”

Oh, she remembered a lot of things about Luke. Some memories that made her heart trip, some that tripped her common-sense alarms. “I thought you said you were going to bring him to a shelter.”

Luke shared his smile with the dog, then shrugged. “What can I say? I'm a softy.”

Peyton's doubts about bringing Luke into Maddy's life eased a fraction. But only a fraction. Just because the man had kept the dog they'd rescued years ago didn't make him a suitable parent. And if he wasn't going to be a good father figure, she was damned well going to make sure he either signed over custody or at least paid child support. He owed Maddy that much, at a minimum. Susannah might have been easy on Luke, but her younger sister had no intentions of doing the same. She needed to keep all that in mind and not get distracted by feelings half a decade old.

Luke gestured toward the wicker love seat and chair on the veranda. A ceiling fan swirled a lazy breeze over the white furniture and pale gray plank floor. Peyton's gaze kept drifting to Luke's bare chest. Damn, he looked good. Too good. He was distracting. Would it be rude to ask him to put on a shirt, so she could think with the rational side of her brain?

“So what brings you by?” Luke asked, settling into the love seat and draping one arm over the back.

She had thought this through on the long drive from Baltimore to Stone Gap. As much as she wanted to leap to the reason she was here, she needed to finesse the situation first. Feel Luke out. See if he had changed. Then she would decide which tactic to take. It was the way she approached her work—get a feel for the space, the dimensions, the history, the very air and let that influence the tone of her design. She perched on the opposite end of the small wicker couch. “Just wanted to catch up with some old friends while I was visiting town. I saw Cassie Bertram this morning and heard you were living on this side of town. I was in the area and thought I'd stop by. So, how have you been?”

If he thought her reasoning for coming to see him was strange, he didn't show it. “Good. Can't complain.”

Awkward silence. She flicked her gaze away from his chest—what did he have on there, magnets?—and at the clapboard siding. “Nice little house you have here.”

“Thanks. It's a rental, but I like it a lot. Kinda growing on me. And it has a pool. Pretty much all I need is that and a fridge.” He grinned.

“To make it party central?”

He scoffed. “If I was eighteen, yeah, maybe. I'm still a pretty simple guy, Peyton. Though my mother keeps haunting garage sales and tries to talk me into crazy things like spice organizers, whatever the hell those are. Jack's built me a table and chairs, so I guess you could say I'm settled in here.”

Okay, so maybe he wasn't the party-hard guy she remembered. Maybe he had matured a little. “Jack's building furniture?”

“Building whatever he can with a hammer and nails. He likes working with his hands. I convinced him to get serious about that a few months ago, after he got home from Afghanistan and was kind of at loose ends, trying to figure out what to do next. Now he's got business cards and orders and everything.”

“And Mac? How is he?” She hadn't seen the oldest Barlow brother since graduation. He'd been the studious one, excelling in school, graduating at the top of the class.

Luke chuckled. “Still the rebel without a cause. Working a zillion hours a week at building the Maxwell Barlow empire, I'm sure.”

She wasn't surprised. Jack had always been the adventurous one, strong and loyal, a good choice for the military. She had no doubt he'd be as excellent at furniture, putting the same care and detail into that job, as he had everything else in his life. Mac was the overachiever, constantly trying to do more, better and faster than anyone else. Luke had always sat square in the middle, great at sports and popularity, but so-so with academics. She didn't remember him being particularly ambitious, but then again, none of the girls who had wilted at the sight of Luke cared if he only had a part-time job. Now, however, a regular paycheck was a necessity for supporting a child. “And, uh, where are you working now?”

He leaned back against the love seat. “Why does this feel like a quiz?”

“I'm just...curious.” She smiled. “Haven't seen you in a long time and I was just catching up.”

“Yeah, catching up. That's what we're doing.” Reservations still lingered in his gaze, and she got the feeling he was assessing her as much as she was assessing him. “I've been working with my dad in his garage. Jack and I were helping him out back when he had his knee surgery, but now that Jack is getting busy with his new business and my dad is thinking about retiring, I've been there more often.” Luke ran a hand through his hair, and his eyes took on a faraway look for a moment. “The future of Gator's Garage is still up in the air, though.”

“You aren't going to take it over?”

“That's a lot of responsibility. A lot of hours. And a long-term commitment.” He grinned again. “Those three things aren't usually on my personal résumé.”

“I remember.” She tried to act as if it was a joke, but inside her chest, disappointment was sinking her dream of Luke being the parent that Maddy needed. Only now did Peyton realize how much she'd been hoping Luke would have grown up in the years since she'd last seen him, and that he would want to be an involved parent. Not that Peyton couldn't raise Maddy on her own, but it would be good for Maddy to have a male role model, and even better, a biological parent who could be a big part of her life.

“So how about you?” Luke said. “You look...amazing.”

She blushed, and cursed herself for it. “Thanks.”

“You said you're visiting Stone Gap. Where is home now?”

And the tables were turned. Because he was trying to beat her at her own game or because he was truly interested? “Baltimore. I'm an interior designer and I work with a relatively large firm there.”

He considered that and nodded. “Makes sense. You were always the kind of kid who wanted to make things more beautiful, leaving flowers in my manly tree forts and painting your bike's spokes pink and purple. What am I saying? Kid? You're a beautiful woman now.”

Two compliments in the space of a minute. The blush crept into her cheeks again, but she reminded herself that this was Luke, the man who could charm the leaves off the trees in the middle of summer.

“Well, thank you. Again.”

A car went past, its noisy muffler putting a pause in their conversation. “How's your sister?” Luke asked.

She blinked. The air took on a chill, the sky seemed to darken. “You don't know?”

“Know...what?”

Peyton drew in a breath, then pushed out the words. “Susannah was...” Her voice wavered, her breath skipped.
Damn, why was this still so hard to say?
“She was...killed in a car accident a month ago.”

Luke sat back against the seat, his face paling. “Really? That's terrible. I hadn't... I hadn't heard. She was so young. Way too young.” He cursed, then leaned forward, his blue eyes intent on hers. “Oh, God, Peyton, I'm so sorry. Are you...okay?”

He touched her hand, a gesture of comfort, connection. The tight lock Peyton always held on her emotions loosened, and tears rushed to her eyes. She'd never expected him to ask her how
she
was. For a second, she wanted to tell the truth.
I'm falling apart. My life is a mess. Everything I thought I had under control is careening off a cliff and for the first time in my life, I don't know what to do.
“I'm...I'm fine.”

“I'm so sorry,” he said again, his hand curling over hers, solid, there.

She started to speak, then realized he'd left off the most important part. No questions about his daughter? About how Maddy was coping with the loss of her mother? Did the man feel no remorse that he had left Susannah to fend for herself for so long?

She tugged her hand out of his, reached into her purse and withdrew her phone. Peyton turned the phone to face Luke. Maddy's picture, a recent one from a happy day at the park shortly before Susannah died, filled the screen. “Aren't you even going to ask how
she's
doing?”

“Pretty girl,” Luke said. Charlie the dog padded over and lay down at Luke's feet. “Is she yours?”

“No, she's not mine. You know that. I can't believe you don't even recognize her.”

“I don't know that kid at all, sorry.” Luke shrugged. “What is she, three? Four? Good age. They're still cute then, but don't have diapers. I think. I don't know much about kids, though.”

“Because you have done your level best to avoid your own.” She stopped herself from adding,
you selfish, self-centered jerk
. Good thing she hadn't fallen for that whole concerned-about-you act, with the nice little touch of his hand on hers.

“My own? My own what?” Luke met Peyton's gaze, wariness creeping into his expression. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This is Madelyne.
Your daughter.
Remember?”

The words hung between them in the heavy, humid air, lead weights on the end of a fishing line. Luke's mouth opened, closed. The cicadas kept up their steady hum in the heat.

“Mine? But how... What...” He shook his head, cast another long glance at the photo of Madelyne. “Is this some kind of joke? I don't have a kid.”

“Don't play dumb with me, Luke. I know my sister told you about the baby and you wanted nothing to do with her. Left her to raise Maddy on her own. Well, now Maddy has lost her mother and I think it's about damned time her father was responsible and helped take care of her or at least supported her financially. She's gone through enough for one little girl.”

There, she'd said it. And without all the cursing that usually accompanied that lecture in her head.

Luke tapped the phone's screen. “I don't know anything about this kid, Peyton. I don't know what your sister told you, but Susannah
never
told me she was pregnant.”

A doubt tickled the back of her mind. “She said she did, Luke. She told me a hundred times how you broke up with her the instant she said she was pregnant. Either way, how can you not see the truth when it's right here? Don't you see your eyes and your smile in that face?”

He took her phone and held it closer. He studied Maddy's picture for a long, long time, then hesitated before handing the phone back, almost reluctantly. “Maybe. She does look like me, a lot like me. You gotta believe me, though, Peyton. I had no idea Susannah had a baby. That's the God's honest truth.”

Was it possible? Would Susannah lie? Her sister had never been the most conventional of women or mothers, but lying about something as big as this? Peyton couldn't see why Susannah would do such a thing, even though the doubt still haunted her thoughts. Susannah, the irresponsible. Susannah, the flighty. Susannah, who had told lies to the grocery clerk and the bill collectors and the boss of the week. Would she really have lied to her younger sister—about
Maddy
?

“Well, now you know. And if you want proof, I am more than happy to pick up one of those mail-in DNA tests. We'll have results in less than two weeks.”

“You have all the bases covered,” he said.

“I have to. Someone has to be responsible here, and right now, that's me.” Peyton started to get to her feet, suddenly anxious to be out of there, to go back to Maddy and hug her niece. “Once the DNA test proves you are Maddy's father, I expect you to support her financially, if nothing else.”

He reached out, captured her hand. The touch cemented her in place, unnerved her and had her glancing at his chest again. God, what was wrong with her? Why did she keep getting so off track?

“What, that's it? You come here, tell me I have a kid, tell me I need to do my part, then run off?”

She didn't want to tell him she was rattled by the idea that Susannah could have lied. That her years of righteous indignation might have been wrong. That she wanted to get out of here, so she could breathe, digest it, get her mind back on track. “I'm not running off. I'm just going back to my hotel. I'm in town for a couple of weeks, should you want to discuss this further.” Two weeks, that's all she had, to help Maddy feel grounded again, and then Peyton could go back to work and start building a solid foundation for the next phase of their lives.

“Should I want to discuss this further? Hell, yes, I want to discuss this further! Is the kid with you?”