“Being a firefighter is pretty straightforward. You learn what you need to in order to do the job well.”
“Firefighting and what I do are very different things,” I point out before I pop another piece of sauce-covered carrot into my mouth.
He watches intently as I chew. “You’re right, but you have a few irons in the fire, and from where I’m sitting, you’re acing all of it.”
“You’ve only seen me cook this one dish.” I tap the side of the plate in front of me.
“I’ve looked at your website a few times,” he admits, turning to face me directly. “Your portfolio showcases your technical talent, but your clients’ comments say a lot more about the type of businesswoman you are.”
It was Joel’s idea to ask a few clients for their thoughts on the projects we completed for them. Their recommendations were overwhelmingly positive. Joel was the one who chose what quotes to post online.
When I first read through them, I was overcome with emotion. I felt that even though I’d taken an unconventional path to get there, I had finally found the place I belonged career-wise.
“I work with a lot of great people.”
“I hope you’ll add my grandmother to that list.” His brows perch. “I passed along your number to her. She’ll be in contact soon to discuss the updated images for her website.”
I’m always thrilled when I know a new client is just on the horizon, but this feels special. “I’m looking forward to it.”
We linger there, staring at each other in silence until Luke breaks it when he clears his throat. “I made a hell of a mess. It’s time for me to clean up.”
I brush that away with a wave of my hand toward the disaster that is my kitchen. “I’ll handle it.”
“No.” He pushes to stand. “The first rule in the firehouse kitchen is to clean up the fucking mess.”
I jump to my feet. “I’m not a fireman, but I’d wager a bet that the person who does the cooking is spared the cleaning duties.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he glares down his nose at me. “How the hell do you know that?”
I tap the middle of my forehead with my index finger. “I’d say it’s intuition, but it’s a lucky guess.”
“A lucky guess?” He steps around the stool he was just sitting on to move closer to me. “Let’s see if you’re on a roll. Guess what I’m thinking right now?”
That you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you?
I keep that to myself and instead go for something more obvious. “That you’re glad you came over tonight.”
His eyes catch mine. “Very glad.”
The intensity in his gaze sets me back a full step. “I’ll help you load the dishwasher.”
“No way.” He reaches to grab my hand. “You’ll sit while I clean.”
“You might be the world’s most perfect man,” I blurt out.
The corners of his lips edge up toward a smile.
Dear God.
Looking as good as he does should be illegal.
“I’m not perfect,” he says in a low tone. “I’m just doing the best I can with what I have.”
He turns to head toward the kitchen sink giving me a perfect view of the back of him. From where I’m sitting, Luke has everything any woman, including me, could ever want.
Chapter 22
Luke
There’s no logical reason for me to be here still, but I am.
I did the dishes, put together a portion of the puzzle that’s still on Afton’s dining room table, and I took a call from Marti.
I reminded her to reach out to Afton soon. She said she’d take care of it this week.
“Do you want to sit outside?” Afton asks as she approaches me with two wine glasses in her hands. “This is a punch I threw together earlier. You won’t get drunk on it.”
Glancing at the puzzle in front of me, I push to my feet. “How can I resist an original Afton Neal mocktail?”
She dips her chin. “It’s not that original. It’s fruit juice and vanilla soda with a few chunks of citrus tossed in.”
I grab a glass from her and take a swallow. “This is good.”
She smiles. “I’m glad you like it. The entrance to the backyard is through my bedroom.”
I know the way. I took the route earlier when I went to grab some basil for our dinner. “Lead the way.”
She sets off in that direction, so I fall in step behind her. We don’t say anything as we pass her bed and approach the glass doors that lead out into the garden.
It’s different now that the sun has set. Small white lights illuminate the yard.
Afton sets her glass down on a circular metal table sitting atop the small paving stone patio. I wait for her to sit in one of the wooden chairs next to it. Once she’s settled, I do the same.