Luke bit back a smile as he straddled his dozing baby over his lap. He could almost swear Marcy had batted her eyes. A haze of ruddy color bled up the back of Patrick’s neck as his lips clamped into a tight line. Silence shrouded the table at the interplay between husband and wife as Patrick sat back in his chair and snapped his napkin in the air with a loud pop. “Well, I suppose I have no authority whatsoever, given the occasion.”
With a look of supreme victory, Gabe took “smug” to a whole new level. “Gosh, Mrs. O’Connor, you’re the best . . .”
Something flickered in Marcy’s cheek as she studied Gabe and then her husband. “Move to the children’s table, please,” she said quietly, finally turning her attention to Gabe.
Gabe’s eyes grew. “But – ”
“
Now
, young lady,” Marcy said with steel in her tone.
“But, you said – ”
“Not another word, or I will confiscate your stash of Dubble Bubble.”
Gabe gulped, right before her lips flattened into a grim line. She rose to her feet with a lingering groan and cauterized Patrick with a glare.
“And wipe that look off your face this instant, young lady. Mr. O’Connor is your foster parent and, as such, will have your respect. Is that understood?”
Gabe gaped, her eyes circled in shock . . . not unlike Patrick’s at the moment.
“Yes, ma’am,” she muttered. She moved to the children’s table where she plopped into the seat next to a gloating Henry.
As gingerly as possible, Charity leaned across the table to address Marcy with a loud whisper. “Uh, Mother . . . do you think Henry could spend the week?”
Marcy spooned potato salad in her mouth and chewed, the barest of smiles hovering on her lips. Reaching for the salt and pepper shakers, she skewed Charity with a look. “Very funny, young lady, but I think your father and I already have our hands full, don’t you?” She extended the seasoning to her husband, who sat watching her with wonder in his eyes. “Salt and pepper, Patrick? If I say so myself, my potato salad is rather bland.”
He took her by surprise with a quick brush of his lips to hers before squeezing her hand with a grin. “Not at all, darlin’, not at all. In fact, Marceline,” he said in a husky tone that brought a trace of rose to her cheeks, “I think it may be perfect – just like my wife.”
Luke popped barbecue in his mouth as a wail erupted from his daughter.
Katie started to rise. “I’ll take her, Luke – you finish your plate.”
He lifted Kat to his shoulder and hopped up before Katie could even clear her chair. “Nope, you stay and eat.” He nuzzled her neck while her chubby legs thrashed against his chest. “Come on, little girl, we’ll rock you and put you someplace comfortable.”
Katie chewed on her lip, only half listening to Sean’s story as she watched Luke cuddle and coo with his daughter on the way into the house. She startled at the touch of a hand on her arm and glanced up into the knowing eyes of Emma Malloy.
“He’s a wonderful father,” Emma said softly, her gaze trailing Katie’s to the screen door as it slammed behind Luke and his daughter. “He’ll make a wonderful husband.”
A sigh of frustration puffed from Katie’s lips. “Thanks, Emma. I agree . . . that is, if I ever get the chance to find out.”
A smile curved the left side of Emma’s mouth, almost obscuring the faded scar on the right. “Something tells me you will, Katie. And sooner than you might think.”
Katie squinted up. “You really think so?”
She nodded and rose, pulling Katie to her feet. “Come on, help me with ice cream?”
Katie followed her to the kitchen, reflecting on Emma’s comment as they chatted and scooped bowls of ice cream. Like the gentle woman herself, her words had been so soft, so sure, oozing into Katie’s spirit like a healing balm that helped to ease the frustration of Luke McGee.
When everyone had been served and Luke still hadn’t returned, Katie quietly slipped away from the lively buzz and hum of family conversations to seek him out. She found him in his room on the far side of the house, the one he shared with his daughter. Katie paused in the doorway, content to stop and just study him a while, this man determined to be only her friend. All at once, the realization that this was where he lived and slept stirred a warmth within, and her lips compressed. A warmth that was obviously getting harder to ignore.
Eyes closed, he lay on his back in his narrow bed. His feet were bare and his long legs crossed at the ankles while muscled arms folded protectively across Kat’s chunky little body as she slept on his chest. The rhythm of their breathing appeared as one, and the sunlit room was still except for the flutter of a breeze as it rippled the sheers of a large double window.
Katie released a silent sigh as she sagged against the doorframe, annoyed once again at the dangerous effect this man had on her pulse. The relaxation of sleep had no softening effect whatsoever on the firm jaw and finely chiseled profile that now sported a tan from time spent in the sun. She nibbled on her lip as she scanned his lean, muscled body, and heat suddenly steamed her cheeks at the thought of lying in his arms like that. With a catch of her breath, she quickly turned, suddenly anxious to leave.
“Don’t go.”
It was the faintest of whispers, but she whirled around, mortified at the blood that rushed to her cheeks. With a slow finger to his lips, his mouth eased into a half smile that caused her stomach to flip. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she watched him rise, graceful and strong like the athlete he was. With the gentlest of motion, he laid his daughter in the crib against the far wall, and then bent to press a soft kiss to her head.
Katie swallowed the emotion blocking her throat.
Oh,
Lord, will we ever be more than friends . . .
He reached for his shoes, then ushered her into the hall and silently closed the door behind, finally releasing a long, weary breath. “Poor, little girl – she gnawed on my finger forever, so I know she’s teething. A nap will do her good.” He stooped to put his shoes on before sloping back against the door and folding his arms, those blue eyes assessing her with a look that weakened her knees. “Did you . . . want something, Katie Rose?” he asked softly.
Her breathing shallowed as she lifted her eyes, swallowing hard when her gaze locked with his. “No, I mean, yes . . . I mean . . . do you want ice cream?” she blurted.
Everything slowed as he reached to brush a strand of hair from her face, and against her will, his touch quickened her pulse. “Not ice cream,” he whispered, “but there is something I want . . .” The smile in his eyes heated several degrees as his gaze slowly dropped to her mouth, all but paralyzing her.
God, help me, this is it!
she thought with a clutch of her stomach, and the notion almost buckled her limbs. “W-what?” she asked with a ragged breath, her lungs refusing to breathe.
He stepped forward and gently gripped her arms. “I need a favor, Katie. There’s a board dinner this weekend, and for once, Lizzie can’t watch Kat. Can you keep her on Saturday night?”
She blinked.
That’s it?
Her pulse was hammering, he had that look in his eye, and her bones had softened to churned butter . . . and all he wanted was for her to watch Kat??? Disappointment slammed so hard that it was a physical ache, and when the stun wore off, her anger took over, tingeing her words with an edge. “Sure, Luke – anytime.” Flinging his hands away, she turned to go, as angry at herself as she was at him.
A massive palm locked on her wrist, reeling her in with a dominant hold. Strong arms held her captive as he tucked his head close to hers, stealing her air. “I meant
forever
, Katie Rose,” he said in a husky whisper that blew warm in her ear.
She jerked away with shock in her eyes, her pulse erratic. “W-what d’you m-mean?” she stuttered, too afraid her ears had deceived her.
He grinned and gently pressed her to the wall, pinning her there with a look that told her
exactly
what he meant. He bent to slowly feather her jaw with kisses. “I mean Happy Mother’s Day, Katie Rose, and may it be the first of many.”
Her gasp drew his lips to hers and then turned to a moan when he cupped the back of her head to consume her with his mouth. Heat came in waves as hungry hands drew her close, and with another weak moan, she managed to push him away. Her breath was as jagged as her nerves as she stood, back to the wall and palms hard against his chest. When she spoke, her voice was a rasp. “Plain English, McGee, I want plain English. Are you asking me to marry you or not?”
Reaching into his pocket, the smile never left his eyes as he unearthed a roll of Life Savers and bobbled them in his palm. He popped one in his mouth and offered the roll to her with a grin. “Have a Life Saver, Katydid, I hear they’re your favorite.”
“I don’t want a Life – ” She stopped, unable to utter another syllable. Hot tears swelled in her eyes as she blinked, the roll of Life Savers little more than a blur – a blur that held the ring that would seal their future.
Tugging the diamond from where he’d wedged it in the roll, he placed it on her trembling finger. “Marry me, Katie,” he whispered, “and make the King of Misery give up his throne.”
She caught her breath and glanced up, a hand to her mouth. “Who told you?”
He brushed a strand of hair from her face and then stroked her jaw with his thumb. “Parker. Uh, I didn’t know, but apparently you had a number of nicknames for poor, defenseless Cluny McGee.” He gripped her chin as one blond brow angled high. “‘The
King
of Misery’?”
She grinned, avoiding his eyes as she stared at the ring on her hand, hardly daring to believe. She swiped a tear from her cheek. “Yeah, well, when I was eleven, it certainly fit. You drove me crazy.”
“Likewise, Sass,” he said with that dangerous look in his eyes. He gathered her into his arms and gave her a slow, luxurious kiss that turned her stomach to Jell-O. “And if it makes you feel any better, I knew I wanted to marry you the moment you stuck that sassy, little nose in the air on an Easter I will
never
forget.”
“Well, for somebody who wanted to marry me, you sure took your sweet time, McGee.”
He kissed her on the tip of her “sassy, little nose.” “Had to. You tend to be a pushy little thing with a knack for bulldozing your own way.” The smile in his eyes sobered. “And I needed time, Katie – thank you for giving me that. I just couldn’t rush into happiness with you in the face of my grief over Betty and the pain I caused you and Parker. I know it wasn’t easy for you, but you honored your promise to me and to God, and for that I’m grateful.”
“Luke! Be on my team,
please
?” Gabe shot down the hall, anxious eyes darting over her shoulder as Henry rounded the corner.
“Luke, no, she’s already got Uncle Brady, so it’s no fair!” Henry said with a gasp.
Gabe squinted her eyes, blocking the hall with two raised fists that halted Henry dead in his tracks. “And you’ve got your dad, Steven, and Sean, while all I have is Collin, so back off, buster. Luke is mine.”
“You’re mean,” Henry said with a sneer.
“That’s right, and don’t you forget it.”
Henry ignored her and shot Luke a plea. “Please, Luke, huh?”
“Sorry, Henry, but Gabe did ask me first.”
“Aunt Katie, can’t you talk him into it,
please
?” Henry begged, reminding Katie so much of Charity that she stifled a grin. She folded her arms in surrender. “Sorry, Henry, the man is a mule. I have no influence whatsoever.”
Luke arched a brow. “
I’m
the mule?” He tucked Katie under his arm and shot Henry a smile. “Tell you what, Henry, Father’s Day is next month, so I’ll be on your team then, okay?”
Gabe leapt in the air with a shriek while Henry puffed out a noisy moan. “Okay,” he muttered, and Gabe dashed past him in a race to the backyard.
Luke gave a satisfied sigh. “I love kids, Katie Rose.” He squeezed her shoulder and led her down the hall, planting a kiss on top of her head. “I want a houseful – at least eight.”
The balls of her feet skidded to a cold stop. “Two, Luke McGee, and no more.”
He turned and pulled her close. “Six, Katie Rose,” he whispered, allowing his gaze to settle on her mouth. He bent to punctuate it with a slow kiss.
“Two,” she repeated, despite the heat fogging her mind.
He leaned in and nuzzled her neck. “Five.”
“Three.”
“Four,” he muttered, his mouth warm as it vibrated against her throat.
He kissed her again and she moaned. “You’re taking advantage of me in a weakened state, Cluny McGee.”
“I know,” he said in a husky voice. He deepened the kiss, then trailed his lips to her ear. “I suggest you get used to it, Katie Rose, because I plan to make a habit of it.” He latched onto the small of her back and drew her in close, taking his time to kiss her thoroughly. “Four.”
“Four, then,” she rasped against his mouth, heat traveling her body like a steamy day in the devil’s kitchen. She looked up at the man who checked every box on her list – and God’s – then returned his kiss with a misty one of her own. “And I’d call
that
a definite maybe.”
To my agent, Natasha Kern, and my editor, Lonnie Hull DuPont – two of God’s many touches in my life – thank you for your faith in me.
To the great team at Revell, true professionals all – thank you for all you do. A special hug to Michele Misiak for her kindness and patience; to Cheryl Van Andel and Dan Thornberg for their great covers; and to the best copyeditor in the world, Barb Barnes, who makes editing an absolute pleasure.
To my brainstorming buddies – Charlotte Vernaci, Karen Chancellor, Judy Jackson, Linda Tate, Ruth Volk, Cherie Nevin, and Sandy Knight – I not only treasure your friendship but your valuable opinions, which have made this a far better book.
To the Seekers – sisters all – when it comes to talent, humor, and support, you ladies rock! I am so glad you have my back.
To Gabriella Dawn Smith and Alli Moser – two of my very favorite reader friends after whom I’ve named two of my favorite characters in this book. Thank you not only for your tireless support and encouragement but for going above and beyond in my newsletter contest to have a character named after you. I smile every time I see your names in Katie’s story.