Turn to me, p.18
Turn to Me, page 18
Excitement tingled from the soles of her feet, up the backs of her knees, to the tip of her scalp. She’d been having a very nice time, but now that Luke had arrived, her enjoyment had quadrupled. She felt the way she had when she was in high school and her long-time crush, Benton Nichols, had appeared unexpectedly at her friend Dorrie’s Fourth of July party.
She adjusted her dress—a cream floral design on a backdrop of red. It had fluttery sleeves and a gathered waist that flowed to a short breezy skirt. Holding her glass in one hand, she threaded her way through people toward Luke. She checked to make sure her three gold necklaces hadn’t tangled. They had a little, so she straightened them.
Since the day she and Luke kissed, she’d done a lot of thinking about whether the time had come to try dating again. She’d prayed. Talked about it more with Meadow and Bridget.
God’s will wasn’t always the easiest thing to discern. In this case, it was subtle—a gentle invitation to lay down her shields and regard relationships with an open mind. She’d been shoving even the thought of romance aside for a long time. She needed to quit doing that out of habit. And cautiously put herself back out there.
That much, she’d deduced.
She couldn’t date Luke, but to her chagrin, her body hadn’t gotten the memo. She was more and more drawn to him every day. Lately, when they made eye contact, her senses jumped with electric awareness.
Luke, of course, had remained very much in control of himself. Reserved. Not cold, just distinctly out of reach.
Yet he’d shown up here. Here! Which proved her five-step plan was working better than she’d thought.
Some of the guests were stealing covert glances at him. In fact, a pulse of interest seemed to be traveling through the room. Is that Luke Dempsey? she imagined one person saying to the next, like a game of telephone.
She greeted several acquaintances as she passed. Running an animal shelter in Misty River ensured that she could attend any type of gathering and find people there she knew.
A redhead came into view, standing beside Luke.
Finley stutter-stepped. Wait. The redhead was Dakota, the beautiful librarian who’d helped them research the Dewey decimal number.
Surely, Luke had not brought Dakota as his date. Luke and Dakota had been strangers the day of the library visit. Finley had introduced them. . . .
Vividly, she recalled the smitten looks Dakota had sent Luke.
Finley watched Dakota and Luke separate from Ben and walk together toward the fireplace.
In her whole life, she’d never experienced jealousy more powerful than a mild twinge. Until now. It began to simmer like acid in the center of her torso.
Finley had kissed Luke, and he’d kissed her back. Very thoroughly! Then he’d closed the door to the possibility of more between them. She’d thought he’d done so because of his inability to let himself care about anyone, because of his guilt, his issues. She might have gotten that wrong. Maybe it hadn’t been about him so much as her. Maybe he was able to care, he just didn’t want her.
She was still at least ten feet away from Luke. Even so, his chin turned in her direction as if she’d called to him. They looked at each other, his chiseled face inscrutable.
She pasted on a smile and approached. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” Her words sounded so merry that they rang false. If she didn’t tone it down, they’d think her tipsy.
“Same to you,” answered Dakota, who wore a tight navy dress that accentuated her curves.
“Thanks again for your help when we came by the library a few weeks ago,” Finley said to her.
“You’re welcome. I just wish I could have done more.”
All the things Finley wanted to say to Dakota, but wouldn’t, filled her head in a rush. I understand why you’d set your sights on Luke. Handsomeness and intrigue flow from him. However, I’ve spent more than a month talking to him, pulling hard-won smiles from him, getting to know him. You can’t possibly understand as well as I do how broken he is inside.
Derek appeared next to Finley. She startled. Upon seeing Luke, she’d temporarily forgotten about her date. “Have you both met Derek Upshaw?” she asked Luke and Dakota.
Luke’s hazel eyes turned to chips of ice.
“I don’t think we’ve met.” Dakota introduced herself to Derek.
“Luke and I went to high school together,” Derek said, shaking Luke’s hand. “Can you believe so many years have passed?”
“I can.”
“Have you been doing well?” Derek asked.
Luke gave a single nod but didn’t reply.
See, Dakota? This is what I’ve put up with from him for weeks.
Thank goodness she’d brought Derek. He was good-looking, flirtatious, and loved animals. Derek reminded her of a mirrored garden orb. Shiny. So what if he had a habit of speaking in questions? That really wasn’t annoying at all. It showed his willingness to involve others in discussions.
“What do you do, Derek?” Dakota asked.
“I’m a physical therapist. I’m really fortunate to get to work with patients, you know?”
“His patients are the fortunate ones,” Finley responded dutifully.
“How do you two know each other?” Dakota asked.
“I drove one of my friends to therapy appointments with Derek when she was recovering from surgery,” Finley answered. “We met then.”
“I’ve been trying to convince her to go out with me ever since,” Derek said. “And here we are. How did I get so lucky?”
A tendon in Luke’s neck hardened.
“Love’s in the air tonight.” Dakota smiled.
Derek had expressed interest in Finley several times and had taken it well when she’d told him that she still wasn’t over Chase. After all, Derek had no trouble in the dating department and certainly hadn’t sat around, crying into a hankie, waiting for her.
Earlier this week, Bridget had encouraged Finley to invite him tonight. “Valentine’s Day is so much more fun with a date!” she’d said. “If you’re going back on the market, who better to start with than Derek? He’ll do great in a party setting. He’s nice and he likes you, and we already know he won’t be upset if you decide you don’t want to go on more dates with him.”
Derek asked about Dakota’s job. She told him about her love of books and her responsibilities at the library.
Finley and Luke painstakingly avoided looking at each other. Even so, the air crackled with tension.
“Where are you working these days?” Derek asked Luke.
“I’m at the Center with Finley.”
Derek’s head pulled back. “What?” he said to Finley. “You didn’t tell me that you’d brought Luke on board, did you?”
“It must’ve slipped my mind.”
Derek slung an arm around her shoulders. “Finley runs the best shelter in the country. How do you like working there, Luke?”
Slight pause. “It’s not really my thing.”
Not his thing? Not his thing! Frustration shot her body temperature up precipitously.
“Weren’t cars your thing,” Derek asked, “back in the day?”
Was Derek innocently referring to Luke’s affinity for cars in high school? Or was the comment a barb, referencing Luke’s years working at a chop shop in Atlanta?
Luke’s restraint did not crack. “Yes. Cars were my thing.”
“Do you still work on them?”
“At the moment I’m working on my sister’s 1970 Pontiac.”
Hmm? Luke had told her nothing about this.
“A Firebird?” Derek asked.
“Yes.”
“Awesome car, right?” Derek took a sip of his drink.
“My grandfather owns a 1957 Plymouth Fury,” Dakota told Luke. “I have the best memories of driving around with him in it. I’d love to hear more about your interest in cars.”
“We’ll leave you to it,” Finley interjected before Luke could reply. She rested her hand on Derek’s forearm. “There’s a band outside, and we haven’t done any dancing yet. Want to give that a try?”
“How could I say no?”
They reached the tent. A band wearing matching white shirts with pink ties played fifties and sixties songs. The music invited couples to slow dance, two-step, and twirl.
If not a good dancer, Derek was, at least, a good sport. It should’ve been fun to dance a portion of the night away. The couples around them appeared to be having a marvelous time.
Finley pretended the same. Inside, however, she felt rattled. Hurt.
Her mind chewed on thoughts of Luke the way a child chews on a stolen piece of candy—secretly and relentlessly.
Luke cursed himself to hell and back.
He’d decided to come here.
He’d known Finley was bringing a date. But he hadn’t known that seeing her with Derek would be so sharply painful. Possessiveness had twisted together with wanting someone he couldn’t have to the point that he’d been unable to take a deep breath since she’d walked up to him.
He was mad. At the world. At Finley. Most of all . . . at himself.
For decades now, he’d been an expert at punishing himself. When they’d released him from prison, he’d told himself he was done with that. But apparently not.
He should have stayed home.
He felt sick to his stomach.
“I see my dad across the room,” Dakota said. “Want to head over and say hi?”
“You go. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“’Kay.” She moved off.
Dakota had approached him seconds after he’d entered the house. He didn’t have anything against her. She was attractive and friendly. However, she wasn’t Finley. So it was a relief not to have to keep making conversation with her.
He crossed to the bar. What were the chances they had tequila?
Zero, it turned out. They had regular and pink champagne, rosé, and a beer called The Love.
He picked up a beer and drank half of it down.
“Luke.” A feminine voice spoke his name.
He turned to see three of the Miracle Five. Natasha and her sister, Genevieve, both carrying small plates of appetizers. Plus Sebastian.
He swallowed a curse word.
“I’m so glad that you came tonight,” Genevieve said to him.
“Who managed to coerce you into attending tonight?” Natasha asked. “I’m going to send them a bouquet of flowers.”
“Was it CeCe?” Sebastian guessed.
“Yes.”
“In that case, CeCe will be receiving a bouquet from me,” Natasha stated. “It’s not easy to entice you into a public setting.”
“Maybe we can ask her if she’d be willing to give us lessons,” Genevieve said to her sister, “on how to be persuasive. The ability to persuade people to do what you want would be a fabulous life skill.”
“CeCe’s methods can’t be taught,” Sebastian said. “They’re in her DNA.”
Luke could see Ben on the other side of the space. He was pretty sure this was the first time all five of them had been in a room together since the ruined basement in El Salvador.
Uninvited memories carved into his thoughts.
Ben, hanging on to his optimism even though they were stuck in a dark hole. Natasha, stepping into the mom role, treating the cut on Genevieve’s arm and assuring Sebastian that his head injury would be fine. Genevieve, praying out loud over and over. Sebastian, threatening him if he refused to drink water. Ethan . . . dead.
“Would you mind grabbing me some punch, Sebastian?” Natasha asked. “Dickens liked to drink punch at the holidays with his family.”
“I’d be honored,” Sebastian said dryly, and left.
“Luke looks rightfully confused.” Genevieve gestured to her sister. “Tell him what Dickens has to do with anything, Natasha.”
“A few years back, I kicked off a year of living Austenly. During that time, I tested out a lot of Jane Austen’s habits. Last year, I completed a year of living C. S. Lewisly. And this year I’m doing a year of living Charles Dickensly.”
Luke had no idea what she was talking about. Everything she’d just said sounded like a foreign language.
Sebastian returned with a glass of pink punch. Natasha lifted it. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” Genevieve echoed.
Luke found Ben and Natasha the easiest to take. Sebastian and Genevieve were harder.
He and Sebastian had butted heads when they were trapped in El Salvador and every time since, whenever they crossed paths.
His reason for disliking Genevieve had nothing to do with her personality and everything to do with the fact that she was the one who should have died—would have died—if Luke hadn’t sent his brother to the back of the line. Because of Luke’s actions, Genevieve had been second to last walking through the basement hallway when the 7.8-magnitude earthquake hit. Luke had pulled her to safety. If she’d been last in line, Ethan was the one he’d have saved.
Genevieve had become a successful Bible study author and speaker. She’d taught hundreds of thousands of women. Her fame made things worse, not better, because Luke knew that some people would look at what she’d achieved and say that she’d survived for a reason . . . that she was destined to make an impact. The implication?
That Ethan had been more disposable than Genevieve.
Which was the opposite of true for Luke and his family.
Ethan had never had a chance to show the impact he could have made as an adult.
When they’d gone on that mission trip to South America, Ethan and Genevieve had been the same age. Twelve. Ethan was a goofy, talkative sixth-grader. The opportunity to become anything other than that had been crushed along with his body by the weight of an entire building.
“I know I speak for all of us,” Genevieve said, “when I say that we’d really like for you to hang out with us while you’re living here in Misty River, Luke.”
He sincerely doubted that she was speaking for Sebastian.
“We get together at least once a month,” Natasha added, “and it would mean a lot if you could come now and then.”
“Seeing one another has been good for us.” Genevieve set a half-eaten cookie on her plate. “It’s my hope that seeing us might turn into something that’s good for you, too.”
“I’ll think about it.” Luke didn’t plan to think about it.
“No gathering that the four of us have ever had,” Natasha said, “has felt complete without you in it.”
Luke never mentioned his affiliation with the group. Even so, the people in his life had occasionally found out. When they did, they immediately asked him about the other four. He could guess what it had been like for the rest of them, who didn’t hide their past and were out in society much more than he was. They’d probably had to field countless questions about him.
Two more people, who were introduced to him as Leah and Sam, walked up. Sam was engaged to Genevieve.
Sebastian’s girlfriend, Leah, was the sister of the kid who’d been feeding Luke information on Blair. “Thanks for setting things up between me and Dylan,” Luke told her.
“You’re welcome. When it comes to the teenagers in our lives, we adults need to have each other’s back.”
Sebastian’s face softened with tenderness as he looked at Leah. Luke had never imagined that the tough, miserable foster kid he’d known would fall for someone. But he had.
As they talked, Natasha’s redheaded husband also joined them. Apparently they’d been married for several years and had two kids together.
Three of the Miracle Five seemed content in their relationships. More than content. Happy. They’d accomplished what he never had. They’d moved on.
As soon as possible, Luke made an excuse and separated from them.
Dakota intercepted him. Great.
She steered him to the heated tent.
Once there, he spotted Finley immediately. She and Derek were slow dancing to Elvis’s “Love Me Tender.”
Futility and longing clawed at him.
“You like Finley, don’t you?” Dakota asked.
She’d caught him staring. “No,” he lied.
“I’d be the happiest girl in the world if you didn’t like me as much as you don’t like her.”
He remained silent.
“Finley’s awesome,” she said. “If she’s into you—”
“She isn’t.”
“—then I think you could be amazing together. How about we dance over to them and then you cut in? I’ll occupy Derek while you talk with Finley.”
The song concluded. A few seconds later, “Unchained Melody” began.
“Fine.” At the least, her plan would temporarily separate Derek from Finley. He took Dakota in his arms and expertly moved them across the dance floor until he tapped on Derek’s shoulder. “I’m cutting in.” No way was he going to ask the clown for permission.
“By all means,” Derek said good-naturedly. He let go of Finley and began dancing with Dakota.
Without a word, Luke drew Finley’s body against his. As they swayed together, he bent his head toward her hair, which smelled of shampoo. Her dress was as light and thin as air. Her waist, defined and feminine.
This was the best kind of torture.
“You can dance,” she said with surprise.
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
“And whose fault is that? I’d like to know you.”
“Trust me, you don’t.”
She met his gaze, eyes narrowed. “Yes, I do. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying very hard to know you.”
He’d been angry since he’d gotten here. Irrationally, he was pleased to see evidence that she was angry, too.
Keeping ahold of her hand, he led her off the dance floor and out of the tent. He followed a brick path that curved through flower beds and past trees until they came to a fence at the farthest corner of the backyard. Landscape lighting made the place feel like a king’s garden.
